Bury Your Gays in Balkan Cinema: LGBTQ+ Representation from the 1990s to Present

 Tomislav Gotovac: “Prava je stvar snimati pedere!” (Plastic Jesus, Plastični Isus, dir. Lazar Stojanović, 1971)

 

• Abstract
  
  This paper discusses the result of a study that explored the “Bury Your Gays” trope and its presence in Balkan cinema. After broadly defining the trope and referencing some of the more well-known Western examples, the paper examines how Balkan cinema portrayed LGBTQ+ characters in its early stages (from the 1960s to 1980s), depending on the country of origin, and continues its analysis into the 1990s and the present day. The main goal of the research is to determine whether Balkan cinema was more or less progressive compared to its Western counterpart.

• Introduction

1. Defining Tropes: From Propp’s Morphology to “Bury Your Gays”

First and foremost, before even explaining the origin of the Bury Your Gays trope, one should explain the origin of tropes in the first place, and Soviet folklorist and structuralist Vladimir Propp’s Morphology of the Folktales. While Propp had not specifically analysed and identified tropes in literature, he had deconstructed 100 tales by Alexander Afanasyev (nos. 50 to no. 151, to be precise) into recurring motives and plot devices. Overall, counting 31 functions that can and often are the backbone of fairytales, he analysed the common occurrences in characters, plot devices, and sequences of events, which can easily be compared to how we observe tropes today. (Propp, n.d., p. 64)

First of all, it should be mentioned what the definition of a trope is – a common or overused theme or device, also known as a cliché. (Definition of CLICHÉ, n.d.) 

Bury Your Gays is a trope that first appeared in a different medium; specifically, it began appearing in the late 19th century as a literary trope. Due to decency laws that outlawed homosexual sex and made it punishable by imprisonment for up to two years, with or without hard labour, many authors could not tackle such themes without being accused of promoting homosexuality. (Book (eISB), n.d.)

One way of avoiding explicitly dealing with the subject of homosexuality was coded language. Code words can have a sexual and homoerotic effect or indicate something other than what a heterosexual account could explain. (deviating from the norm, page 1). For example, in Oscar Wilde’s The Portrait of Dorian Gray, the way Basil often describes Dorian could be read as queer-coded. (“‘Dorian Gray is my dearest friend,’ he said. ‘He has a simple and a beautiful nature. Your aunt was quite right in what she said of him. Don’t spoil him. Don’t try to influence him. Your influence would be bad. The world is wide, and has many marvellous people in it. Don’t take away from me the one person who gives to my art whatever charm it possesses: my life as an artist depends on him. (…)’” (Wilde, 1999, p. 16) “In fact, it was music that had first brought him and Dorian Gray together – music and that indefinable attraction that Dorian seemed to be able to exercise whenever he wished, and indeed exercised often without being conscious of it.” (Wilde, 1999, p. 158) In the uncensored version of the novel, some of these examples become even more obvious: (“(…) As a rule, he is charming to me, and we walk home together from the club arm in arm, or sit in the studio and talk of a thousand things.(…)” (Wilde, 2012, p. 68) In the first version that was published, the “and we walk home together from the club arm in arm” phrase is completely missing.

Another way to make it clear that homosexual behaviour was not endorsed was to have an LGBTQ+ character be “punished”, usually by killing them off. The same is present in Oscar Wilde’s novel, where Dorian first kills Basil, and later dies by stabbing his own portrait that Basil had painted.

While the earliest examples of LGBTQ+ characters in Western cinema were more sympathetic – where cross-dressing and gender-role reversals such as “pansies” and “butches”, as well as even same-sex kisses have been common – a change took place with Will Hays, and subsequent creation of the Motion Picture Production Code in the 1930s, by which the industry regulated itself. In the 1960s, it was more commonly known as the Hays Code. (Russo, 1987, p. 26) Again, it was never outwardly stated what the sexuality of a character was, and it depended on viewers to notice it based on subtext and queer coding.

In post-war Hollywood films, queer characters stopped being silly, and were instead often portrayed as villainous, such as the murderers Brandon and Phillip in Alfred Hitchcock’s The Rope (1948), or the thugs Fante and Mingo in The Big Combo (dir. Joseph H. Lewis, 1955). While in the former it is implied that both characters will be arrested (and presumably sentenced to death, which was the penalty for murder in the United Kingdom at the time), in the latter one of them, Fante, is killed by a bomb, while Mingo is badly injured and arrested. (Benshoff & Griffin, 2010, p. 37)

 

1. A brief history of LGBTQ+ representation in Western cinema compared to the early history of Balkan cinema

It is hard to truly tell what the first portrayal of an LGBTQ+ person on film was, as in the late 19th century there were all sorts of same-sex physical intimacies that today might be read as homosexual, but were more common at the time, such as hugging, kissing, and caressing between two people of the same sex. One of the early silent short film experiments (lasting only about 20 seconds), shot at Thomas Edison’s estate in 1895 depicted two men dancing. The short has been dubbed The Gay Brothers as no title card existed. (Benshoff & Griffin, 2010, p. 31) Of course, there is also the problem of the word ‘gay’ having changed meaning over time (although even in the 1890s it could have a promiscuous undertone), having started being used more commonly as ‘homosexual’ in the 1940s. (Homosexual – Etymology, Origin & Meaning, n.d.)

However, we can say with certainty that the first film with a gay romance was the Swedish film The Wings (Vingarne, dir. Mauritz Stiller, 1916), which presents a homoerotic plotline happening between a sculptor and his model. The film was based on the novel Mikäel by Danish writer Herman Bang. There was also a German adaptation, Michael (dir. Carl Theodor Dreyer, 1924). The first widely known same-sex kiss between two people of the same sex took place in Wings (dir. William A. Wellman, 1927) between two soldiers, one of whom is dying at that moment. However, due to aforementioned socially accepted friendly intimacies between two men, it remains ambiguous how homosexual it was intended to be. (Danesi, 2013, p. 137) The same can be said for the kiss between two men in Intolerance (dir. D. W. Griffith, 1916) or the two women kissing in the background in Manslaughter (dir. Cecil B. DeMille, 1922). 

While not technically a film but a chronophotographic sequence, Eadweard Muybridge’s Two Models Shaking Hands and Kissing Each Other (1887) captures two nude women doing just that. Because of  the social conventions of the time, however, women were considered to have little or no sex drive, so even in the eyes of Victorians it was not viewed as erotic. (Lim, n.d., p. 1) What is considered the first real homosexual kiss takes place in Sunday Bloody Sunday (dir. John Schlesinger, 1971) between two men. (Danesi, 2013, p. 137) Despite having no kiss, the first film that could be viewed as critical of homosexuality being a criminal offence was a German film Different from the Others (Anders als die Andern, dir. Richard Oswald, 1919), in which a gay violinist kills himself after being publicly exposed as gay. His partner tries to do the same but survives. (Nudes & Stiles, n.d., p. 8)

In the following decades, due to various censorship laws, LGBTQ+ characters were mostly only queer-coded. In the Balkans, particularly in Yugoslavia, that has also been the case. Occasionally, some seemingly straight characters would also engage in homoerotic behaviour – for example, the bride and bridesmaids engage in somewhat sexual wrestling in bed in Handcuffs (Lisice, dir. Krsto Papić, 1969). 

Despite homosexuality still being criminalised until 1977, Yugoslav cinema often featured LGBTQ+ characters in minor roles, even in more mainstream films of the time. During my research, I have found around 25 more that appear to include an LGBTQ+ character.

In the film Crows (Vrane, dir. Ljubiša Kozomara, Gordan Mihić, 1969) one of the characters, Čedica, is clearly written as a gay man. He is a ballet dancer, quite effeminate, who, like the rest of the characters, has been shunned from society. Another side-character also appears to be a homosexual, as at one point he asks for sexual intercourse with Čedica, which results in the gang killing him. Čedica is implied to survive at the end of the film although he is still physically assaulted by the main character. Two years earlier in the film The Rats Woke Up (Буђење пацова, dir. Živojin Pavlović), the same actor who played Čedica, Milan Jelić, portrayed a student who was implied to be in a relationship with a pornography collector, Milorad. Milorad is meticulous about self-grooming, and could be described as a dandy. Despite the main character being of lower social status when compared with an affluent collector, he is still considered to be above Milorad. (Gilić, 2021, p. 10) Both characters survive.

While Čedica was quite an important character in Crows, the gay character Simke in National Class Category Up to 785 Ccm (Nacionalna klasa, dir. Goran Marković, 1979) is more of a background character appearing only a handful of times. He is a DJ who has a boyfriend, with whom he breaks up by the end of the film.

The following year, a film by the same director, All That Jack’s (Majstori, majstori) also features a homosexual character, this time a more latent one. An art teacher at a local school is often teasingly nicknamed “Emanuela”, a distinctly female name, for that reason.

In The Promising Boy (Дечко који обећава, dir. Miloš Radivojević, 1981), the main character, Slobodan, has a brief fling with a queer-coded character Pit. Whether it was as a promotion for their band or something genuine is not clarified, although up to that point Slobodan only showed interest in women. Pit ultimately ends up dead, whether by suicide or accident, it remains unclear.

In many of the Yugoslav films up until the 1990s, homosexuality, though often laced with elements of homophobia, was not punished in the way it often did in Western films, nor were LGBTQ+ characters portrayed as inherently evil. Occasionally, however, they served as a stereotypical comedic relief. 

 

1. Beginnings:

1. Marble Ass (1995): The first LGBTQ+ film and its reception in Serbia and the rest of the Balkans
   
   While quite a few films had homosexual characters – either explicitly or subtly – before the 1990s, the first film that could truly be called ‘queer’, and not just queer-themed, was Marble Ass (Dupe od mramora, dir. Želimir Žilnik, 1995), because it used performers who identified as queer outside of the film itself, and was provocative narratively and aesthetically. (Jelača, 2016, p. 105) A docufictional comedy set in Belgrade that follows a transsexual sex worker, during the period of international sanctions and war. The film addresses ethno-nationalism, the rise of criminal activity, as well as hypermasculinity. It is interesting that, among many LGBTQ+ in the film – most of whom were trans sex-workers playing a fictional version of themselves – the only character that ends up dead is Džoni, a man who has returned from the war and is determined to get rich by any means necessary. Unlike other characters, he is hypermasculine and nationalistic, refuses to confront his wartime trauma and instead embraces it, and it is this behaviour that ultimately leads to his death.
   Surprisingly, the film was well received at the time, surprising even its director. “I was even surprised that there were no protests against the film. Nobody tried to censor it… They said it was a bit extreme, but we had had extreme films before.”, Žilnik said, while also assuming it was perhaps because the groups most likely to protest such a film were preoccupied with the ongoing war. (Marble Ass, n.d.)
   However, the change and fight for the LGBTQ+ rights was only just beginning, and the film did not make life any safer for sexual minorities. Tragically, the main character and star of the film, Vjeran Miladinović, also known as Merlinka, was brutally murdered only a few years later, and no one has ever been convicted for his murder. (Jelača, 2016, p. 119)
   In 1995, it won the Teddy Award at the Berlin Film Festival, considered the oldest and most prestigious award for queer cinema worldwide.

2. Analysing Balkan LGBTQ+ films made in 1990s and 2000s
   (Calvary (1996), Russian Meat (1997), Fine Dead Girls (2002), Guardian of the Frontier (2002), Take a Deep Breath (2004), Love Sick (2006), Obituary for Escobar (2008), Go West (2005))
   
   Occasionally, a homosexual character would still serve as a comedic relief in films, such as in Third Time Lucky (Treća sreća, dir. Dragoslav Lazić, 1995), where one the main character meets a homosexual man in prison. He is simply there to deliver a joke about being arrested for stealing bras – which is preposterous, as he has quite a wonderful collection at home already. The character does not influence the plot in any meaningful way, and serves purely as a source of humour.
   In 1996, Calvary (Kalvarija, dir. Zvonimir Maycug (Majcug)) was released, although primarily on VHS tapes. It was screened in only one theatre in Zagreb – cinema Kustošija, and was rejected from the Pula Film Festival at the time due to technical faults. ((PDF) [Curated Retrospective] PSIHOTRONIČKI FILM (PSYCHOTRONIC FILM) Of Zvonimir Maycug – Feature Film Retrospective | Zeljko Luketic – Academia.Edu, 2021, p. 158) Surprisingly, the movie does not portray itself as a “gay” or “queer” film, but rather as a film about human relationships, in which a same-sex male relationship is treated as entirely ordinary. (Nakon Molitve Bludili Smo Cijeli Dan, 2022) Unfortunately, the film is plagued with awkward editing, horrible acting, and is nowadays regarded as one of those ‘so-bad-they’re-good’ productions, which is quite unfortunate. Considering the film also engages with themes such as provincial unrest, scandal, and religion, it is a shame that its legacy now lies firmly within the trash category of cinema. However, both characters surprisingly survive the ordeals, and the film concludes on a somehow hopeful note.
   Russian Meat (Rusko meso, dir. Lukas Nola, 1997) is set in an elite brothel in Croatia. While the main plot follows a woman investigating the murder of her sister, who had worked there, it is heavily implied in the background that one of the senior female employees may have been in love with one of the prostitutes – also murdered, like the protagonist’s sister. She ultimately kills the brothel owner responsible for both deaths. In the film’s final shoot-out, all the characters except for the protagonist are killed. Although the story references the war and involves weapons smuggling, it is not as overtly political as some later films.
   The works that followed began to engage more directly with themes of homophobia, the deeply ingrained nationalism of post-Yugoslavian countries, and the lingering consequences of the war – in ways not dissimilar to Marble Ass.
   Fine Dead Girls (Fine mrtve djevojke, dir. Dalibor Matanić, 2002) follows a lesbian couple who rent a flat in a house full of strange tenants that serve as a reflection of society at the time. The flat itself was obtained through illegal means after the war. One of the tenants is a war veteran with PTSD who abuses his wife, and the police show little concern. He also loudly listens to a far-right singer, Thompson, who remains a highly controversial public figure today. Another tenant is a gynaecologist who practices illegally from home. Meanwhile, a prostitute living in the same building is tasked by one girl’s father with discovering whether the main characters are lesbians, in an effort to “bring her back to the right path”. Another tenant is hiding his dead wife’s body, pretending she is still alive to continue receiving her German pension. In the neighbourhood, a group of skinheads can also be seen, and it is implied that they are responsible for the brutal beating of a Roma man. Almost all heterosexual characters are depicted as hypocritical, misogynistic, and intolerant. This ultimately culminates in murder of one of the main lesbian characters, while the other marries her ex-boyfriend who is unaware of her past relationship with a woman.
   The Slovenian film Guardian of the Frontier (Varuh meje, dir. Maja Weiss, 2002) was released the same year, and also features a lesbian couple. While Slovenia did not experience the Yugoslav war in the same way as other nations – its conflict being very brief, and thus dubbed Ten-Day War – the film addresses Slovenian nationalism as well. The main antagonist is a local village politician, whose rhetoric is filled with hostility towards anything he considers unnatural, foreign, or contrary to traditional values. Amongst the “issues” he criticises the protagonists for their independence, language, and homosexuality, which he deems un-Slovenian. (‘Maja Weiss’ Guardian of the Frontier (Varuh Meje, 2002)’, 2023) It is also notable that even the protagonists initially view Croatians on the opposite bank of the Kolpa river – the border between two countries – as savages, still mentally stuck in the war. While the lesbian couple does survive, their friend, who is more timid and sexually shy, suffers instead.
   Go West (dir. Ahmed Imamović, 2005), a film from Bosnia and Herzegovina, similarly comments on nationalism and the war, like Fine Dead Girls and Guardian of the Frontier. This time, the plot is set during the Serbian aggression against Bosnia and Herzegovina. A homosexual couple lives in Sarajevo: Milan, a Serbian student from a highly patriarchal rural area, and Kenan, a Muslim cellist. To avoid being killed, Kenan disguises himself as a woman and hides in Milan’s home village, which is strongly patriarchal and nationalistic. While maintaining the pretense of being female, Kenan marries Milan, who is soon drafted into the war and eventually killed. The film critiques Orthodox priests who were warmongers, as well as the nationalistic ideology that led to unnecessary deaths. In the end, Kenan survives by fleeing to Western Europe. Go West faced harsh criticism, as many on the ideological right in Bosnia accused the director of diminishing the impact of genocide in favour of telling the story of an invented gay couple, and questioned the depiction of an oppressed individual forming a relationship with a member of the oppressing group. (Fejes & Balogh, 2013, p. 71)
   Take a Deep Breath (Diši duboko, dir. Dragan Marinković, 2004) includes a lesbian couple in its plot, but ultimately fails to critique society and its homophobia. In fact, it does not address issues of homophobia at all, instead focusing on the interpersonal relationships of a family falling apart. When the lesbian couple breaks up at the end, the film attempts to comment on a society insufficiently open to different types of relationships. However, this message is undermined by the fact that several couples cheat on each other, causing the final message to fall flat.
   The Romanian film Love Sick (Legături bolnăvicioase, dir. Tudor Giurgiu, 2006) explores a sort of love triangle involving Kiki and Alex, two young female students in a relationship, and Kiki’s brother, Sandu. The film, whether intentionally or not, draws a problematic parallel between a homosexual couple and an incestuous relationship. Ultimately, under the pressure from her brother, the lesbian relationship ends in a breakup.
   A surprisingly pro-trans film emerged in Serbia in 2008. In Obituary for Escobar (Čitulja za Eskobara, dir. Milorad Milinković), one of the main characters is born male but undergoes gender-affirming surgery in Amsterdam. Upon returning home, she attempts to seduce her childhood bully, Ghandi, who has become an infamous criminal. Despite these themes, the film is a dark comedy with fantastical elements. Its pro-trans message is delivered at the outset by an angel in heaven, who explains the events about to unfold. Even Ghandi’s “redemption” begins after he discovers that the woman he loves is trans. While the film briefly addresses homophobia, transphobia, patriarchal oppression, and domestic violence, much of this is conveyed through humour, which often does not fully succeed. This may explain why the film became a commercial success in Serbia, despite featuring a trans character. (Fejes & Balogh, 2013, p. 64) Interestingly, after “officially” becoming a woman, Lela gains power over her former abuser — a power she never had while living as a man. (Fejes & Balogh, 2013, p. 75)
   It can be concluded that most films from this era, while generally portraying LGBTQ+ characters positively, also engaged in social critique, addressing nationalism, war, toxic masculinity, and related issues, particularly in films from former Yugoslav countries.
   It is evident that LGBTQ+ characters are no longer merely side characters or plot accessories; they increasingly serve as main characters and act as mirrors to society, revealing the effects of injustice and violence prevalent during this period.
   

3. Greece as an exception: Exploitation and underground films
   (Island of Death (1976), Angel (1982), Singapore Sling: The Man Who Loved a Corpse (1990), See You in Hell, My Darling (1999), Hardcore (2004), Strella (2009))
   
   One of the most banned films in history features not one, but three LGBTQ+ characters. However, all of them exist solely to be brutally murdered by the “protagonists.” Island of Death (Τα παιδιά του Διαβόλου, dir. Nico Mastorakis, 1974) is an exploitation horror-thriller that, like many films in its genre, relies almost entirely on shock value. The plot is minimal and follows a young couple of murderers hiding on the Greek island of Mykonos, where they continue their killing spree. Driven by intense hatred for what they consider “perversion,” their victims include a gay male couple and a lesbian waitress with a heroin addiction. The film does not shy away from depicting violence, sex, and rape, and the inclusion of LGBTQ+ characters is intended to provoke shock. It clearly adheres to the male gaze, showing female nudity without presenting male nudity; even the gay male couple is depicted only in a brief kiss.
   In 1982, the film Angel (Άγγελος, dir. Giorgos Katakouzinos) was released, featuring a young homosexual man, Angelos, as its protagonist. The film is largely sympathetic towards him, though it portrays his life as extremely difficult. Angelos comes from a highly dysfunctional family: his mother is hysterical, his father an alcoholic, and his sister disabled. It is later revealed that both his mother and grandmother were prostitutes, which the film arguably implies may have influenced Angelos’s sexuality. Much of Angelos’s life is spent meeting men while cruising, often interrupted by police raids. When he eventually finds a boyfriend, a sailor named Michalis, the relationship becomes highly abusive: Angelos is coerced into cross-dressing, forced into prostitution, and raped. At one point, he joins the army, only to be discharged once his homosexuality is discovered. The film culminates in Angelos killing Michalis violently, stabbing him and then slitting his throat. While Angel attempts to portray the difficulties of being homosexual in Greece during the 1980s, it leans heavily on violence and shock, and can be argued to fall into the realm of “misery porn.”
   Nikos Nikolaidis created two films featuring LGBTQ+ relationships, although both are exploitation films: Singapore Sling: The Man Who Loved a Corpse (Singapore Sling: Ο Άνθρωπος που Αγάπησε ένα Πτώμα, 1990) and See You in Hell, My Darling (Θα σε Δω στην Κόλαση Αγάπη μου, 1999). Both films follow a pair of villainous women in a romantic relationship, set in fictional environments resembling hell, and positioned in opposition to patriarchy. While these works challenge the status quo and subvert patriarchal norms, the depiction of women remains problematic and, in some respects, misogynistic. (Fotiou, 2015, p. 1)
   The first film focuses on an incestuous mother-daughter relationship, characterised by violence, BDSM, torture, and the brutal murder of anyone who enters their home, whether an unsuspecting traveller or a servant. Eventually, a wounded detective arrives while searching for his lover, who has been killed by the murderous couple. He becomes their victim but gradually assumes a more dominant, patriarchal role, similar to that of the deceased father, who had been equally abusive and deranged. In the end, the daughter, alongside the detective, kills the mother, and the detective subsequently kills the daughter, who shoots him before her death.
   See You in Hell, My Darling follows two women, Vera and Elsa, who are in a relationship and trapped in a kind of purgatory or hell. Together with Elsa’s husband, with whom both are in love, they have robbed a van. Over the course of the film, they repeatedly attempt to harm and kill one another.
   In both films, lesbianism is not depicted as an expression of the women’s sexual identities, but rather as another manifestation of their perversion and fetishism, and possibly as a consequence of trauma inflicted by men in their lives. (Fotiou, 2015, p. 4)
   Hardcore (2004, dir. Dennis Iliadis) focuses on the lives of two teenage prostitutes, Martha and Nandia, who fall in love while working at the same brothel. In addition to their relationship with each other, they also date two male prostitutes from the same establishment. The film descends into violence, sex, and death, but ultimately Martha and Nandia manage to escape after killing their pimp, among others, and get away with it. However, when Nandia begins to capitalise on the publicity for her fame, she gradually neglects Martha, culminating in Martha suffocating Nandia with a pillow. Like other films discussed in this chapter, Hardcore has been banned in multiple countries due to its explicit sexual and violent content.
   In 2009, Strella (Στρέλλα, dir. Panos H. Koultras) presents many of the elements seen in earlier films, with one crucial difference: a happy, albeit morally ambiguous, ending. The film follows a former convict released from prison after fourteen years, who begins a relationship with a younger transgender woman, Strella. As a child, Strella had been sexually assaulted by her uncle, with whom she was in love. Her father discovered the incestuous and paedophilic relationship, murdered her uncle, and was subsequently incarcerated. It is later revealed that the convict is Strella’s father, and that they have also been involved in an incestuous relationship. Surprisingly, the film concludes with the convict and Strella continuing their relationship and living together, alongside a few minor characters, including the convict’s former cellmate and lover. Despite the unorthodox nature of this family, there is a sense of hopefulness in their newfound life. It is this eventual happiness that distinguishes Strella from earlier Greek films addressing similar themes and characters.
   

4. Miscellaneous: Immigrants in Greek films and Sworn Virgins
   (Virgina (1991), From the Edge of the City (1998), Black Field (2009), Xenia (2014), Sworn Virgin (2015), The Albanian Virgin (2021))
   
   Two themes in Balkan films warrant their own brief chapter.
   Set in the 19th century, Virgina (Virgina, 1991, dir. Srđan Karanović) focuses on a Balkan patriarchal custom known as “sworn virgins.” Sworn virgins are women who vow a life of celibacy and live as men, as such societies afford men greater freedom. This practice is less about self-assigned gender or sexuality and more about traditional patriarchal gender roles, in which women are perceived as inferior. Consequently, women choose to live as men primarily to gain more rights and, often, the ability to support themselves and their families. (O’Brien, 2009, p. 384) In the film, after the birth of yet another daughter, a father decides to pretend that his youngest child is a son and raises her accordingly. As she grows older, she begins to resist the manhood imposed upon her. She prefers to play with dolls and eventually falls in love with a boy her age. In the end, they escape to the USA, allowing her to finally live as who she truly is — a young woman.
   A similar narrative appears in the 2015 film Sworn Virgin (Burrnesha, dir. Laura Bispuri), in which a young woman, having taken an oath to become a sworn virgin, leaves the mountains of Albania to go to Italy and discover her true self, free from the harsh patriarchal laws imposed upon her. The Albanian Virgin (2021, dir. Bujar Alimani) addresses the same subject, but situates its characters in the 1950s and 1960s.
   Black Field (Μαύρο Λιβάδι, 2009, dir. Vardis Marinakis) is set in 1654 Greece, during Ottoman rule. A janissary — a soldier in the Ottoman army recruited through the devşirme system, whereby Christian boys were taken, forced to convert to Islam, and incorporated into the military (Ágoston & Masters, 2009, p. 183) — is injured and finds his way to an Orthodox monastery. One of the nuns, Anthi, begins to fall in love with him. When it is revealed that he is a deserter, the nuns decide to alert the authorities, but Anthi assists him in escaping. Once in the woods, it is revealed that Anthi is, in fact, a boy who had been hidden in the monastery as a child and forced to live as a girl to avoid recruitment into the Ottoman army. Although the soldier is reluctant to pursue a relationship with him, the film concludes with both escaping their captors and running into the woods, leaving the nature of their relationship ambiguous.
   
   Another recurring theme in Greek films involves LGBTQ+ characters who are already marginalised by society due to their immigrant status and lack of full acceptance.
5. From the Edge of the City (Από Την Άκρη Της Πόλης, 1998, dir. Constantine Giannaris) follows a young male prostitute and thief navigating the underbelly of Athens, and the people and crimes that surround him. While he engages in sexual activity with men, he does not identify as gay. It is important to note that the teenagers depicted in the film are Russian Pontians — people of Greek ancestry from the Black Sea region and Kazakhstan — who returned to Greece in the 1990s but are no longer fully regarded as Greek.

(BFI | Sight & Sound | From the Edge of the City (1998), n.d.)
Xenia (dir. Panos H. Koutras, 2014) follows two Albanian-Greek brothers who also struggle with their immigrant status, with the plot centred on the convoluted process of obtaining citizenship. The younger brother is gay and engages in sexual relationships with often older men in exchange for money. He also exhibits mental health issues, which may be seen as reminiscent, in a distant way, of the portrayals in earlier Greek films.

1. Mid 2010s:

1. Analysing Balkan LGBTQ+ films made in 2010s
   (The Parade (2011), Beyond the Hills (2012), Next to Me (2015), The Constitution (2016), Goran (2016), Soldiers: Story from Ferentari (2017), The Marriage (2017))
   
   The Parade (Parada, dir. Srđan Dragojević, 2011), co-produced by Serbia, Croatia, North Macedonia, Montenegro, Slovenia, and the Council of Europe, was directly inspired by the first Pride Parade held in Belgrade in 2010, which resulted in riots and hundreds of injuries. The film’s plot revolves around ensuring that the next Pride Parade in Belgrade proceeds without incident. This goal is negotiated between a gangster and war veteran, Limun, and a gay activist, Mirko. Limun’s fiancée insists that Mirko organise their wedding, while Mirko, in return, seeks protection for the Pride Parade from violence. Unable to find assistance within Serbia, Limun recruits old friends from across the borders, all of whom are war veterans of their respective nations — a Croatian, a Bosnian Muslim, and a Kosovo Albanian. With this premise, the film continues the thematic concerns of 1990s and early 2000s Balkan cinema, which addressed nationalism, the Yugoslav wars, and homophobia, offering critique not only of homophobia but also of the wider political and social climate. Queer cinema in the region consistently demonstrates the interdependence of nationalist memory, transnationalism, and contemporary LGBTQ+ rights. (Horvat, 2023, p. 48) However, similar to many films from earlier periods, The Parade also concludes on a sombre note: Mirko is ultimately murdered during an attack orchestrated by a group of skinheads. While the film was well received by both audiences and critics, that year’s Pride Parade in Belgrade was banned, an action that was widely condemned by human rights organisations worldwide. (‘Banning of Belgrade Pride Is a Dark Day for Human Rights in Serbia’, 2011) In 2014, the next Pride Parade was held in Belgrade under greater police protection, with fewer arrests and injuries. Although a portion of society continues to view homosexuality negatively, Pride Parades have been held annually since.
   Similarly to the previous film, Beyond the Hills (După dealuri, dir. Cristian Mungiu, 2012) was inspired by real events, specifically the Tanacu exorcism, in which 23-year-old Maricica Irina Cornici, an allegedly mentally ill nun at the Romanian Orthodox Church monastery of Tanacu, was killed during an exorcism in 2005 (a casualty of Romania). The film follows a young woman, Alina, who visits the monastery in hopes of persuading her former orphanage roommate, Voichița — with whom she had a relationship — to return to Germany with her in pursuit of a better life. However, during Alina’s absence, Voichița has fully embraced religion and follows the young priest in charge of the monastery, who, among other things, attributes the decline of faith in Western Europe to same-sex marriages. As Alina is viewed as problematic within the monastery, her conflict with the priest ultimately leads to an exorcism that kills her, mirroring the real-life events that inspired the film.
   While not strictly an LGBTQ+ film, Next to Me (Поред мене, dir. Stevan Filipović, 2015) explores the consequences of a young high school teacher locking her class in the school overnight after discovering that some students had participated in an attack against her the previous evening. Two of the male students are gay: Strahinja, who is openly gay, and Lazar, who is closeted. The film primarily examines societal issues; for example, the attack was partly in reaction to the teacher’s husband, a painter, whose latest exhibit criticises religion and nationalism. The student characters function as a mirror of contemporary society, reflecting both its flaws and virtues. Both gay characters reappear in the film’s sequels.
   The Croatian film The Constitution (Ustav Republike Hrvatske, dir. Rajko Grlić, 2016) follows the lives of four residents in the same apartment building in Zagreb. A notable departure from earlier films is that the homosexual transvestite character, Vjekoslav, is also a Croatian nationalist, partly influenced by his father’s affiliation with the Ustaša movement. Following a brutal attack, Vjekoslav becomes more reliant on his neighbours, one of whom is a Serb attempting to obtain Croatian citizenship. While Vjekoslav experiences a relatively positive resolution, his former lover, Bobo, is mentioned as having died by suicide a year earlier, while suffering from cancer. As with other films from former Yugoslav countries, The Constitution addresses not only homophobia but also broader societal issues, including nationalism and the country’s political climate.
   Goran (dir. Nevio Marasović, 2016) stands out because, despite featuring gay characters, it does not engage with wider social issues as many other films do. Two supporting characters are gay and in a relationship, with one ultimately killed by his lover’s father. However, due to the film’s darker narrative, several heterosexual characters also suffer similarly tragic fates.
   Soldiers. Story from Ferentari (Soldații. Poveste din Ferentari, dir. Ivana Mladenović, 2017) addresses not only homophobia in general, but specifically the experience of homophobia in Ferentari, a poor neighbourhood of Bucharest, Romania, where the majority of the population is of Romani descent. The film centres on the relationship between Adi, a PhD student researching manele music, a genre of Romanian pop-folk, and Alberto, a Romani former convict with a history of sexual abuse in prison. The narrative also explores the challenges faced by Romani people reintegrating into society after incarceration, as well as the bureaucratic obstacles they encounter. In the end, Adi leaves Ferentari, leaving Alberto behind. The film is based on a biographical novel written by the film’s writer and actor, Adrian Schiop.
   The Kosovan film The Marriage (Martesa, dir. Blerta Zeqiri, 2017) follows a young couple, Bekim and Anita, who are preparing to marry. Bekim’s former gay lover, Nol, returns from Paris in an attempt to rekindle their relationship and prevent Bekim from marrying Anita. Although Bekim initially hopes for his relationship with Anita to fail, he ultimately marries her and remains in Kosovo, while Nol returns to France, leaving both characters’ desires unfulfilled.
   While films from this period less commonly fall under the Bury Your Gays trope, the trope is still evident: even when LGBTQ+ characters survive, they often end up alone, and their relationships fail.
   
   

• Where is LGBTQ+ Film Now?

1. Analysing LGBTQ films made in 2020s
   (The Man with the Answers (2021), Housekeeping for Beginners (2023), Three Kilometres to the End of the World (2024), Sandbag Dam (2025))
   
   The Man with the Answers (Ο άνθρωπος με τις απαντήσεις, dir. Stelios Kammitsis, 2021) is the first film in this research that does not address homophobia, functioning instead as a conventional romantic road drama. Following his grandmother’s death, Victoras decides to visit his estranged mother in Germany. Along the way, he meets a German student, Matthias. While the film follows certain conventions of romantic cinema, with characters initially at odds, they eventually fall in love. There are no conflicts in the film related to the characters’ queerness, nor is homophobia ever mentioned. After many sombre films depicting LGBTQ+ characters and the hardships they face, a simple narrative such as this one is particularly refreshing.
   Housekeeping for Beginners (Домаќинство за почетници, dir. Goran Stolevski, 2023) centres on a makeshift family and a woman, Dita, who never truly wanted to be a mother, as she must find a way to raise her Romani girlfriend’s two daughters following the girlfriend’s death from cancer. While the family is dysfunctional and composed of many members unrelated by blood, they strive to make things work. Almost all the characters are LGBTQ+ and support one another in various ways, whether reluctantly or not. The film also addresses the challenges faced by the Romani minority in Macedonia, highlighting the hardships imposed by poverty and social marginalisation, regardless of the effort the family invests.
   The Romanian film Three Kilometres to the End of the World (Trei kilometri până la capătul lumii, dir. Emanuel Pârvu, 2024) explores the aftermath of a brutal homophobic attack on Adi, a 17-year-old boy. In his small Romanian village, news spreads quickly regarding the supposed “reason” for the assault, while the police are eager to turn a blind eye. Adi’s own family attempts to find a “cure” for him, even going so far as to try and perform an exorcism. In the end, Adi manages to leave the village and distance himself from his home and family. Although the ending offers a measure of hope, as Adi escapes his abusive environment, his relationship with his family and hometown is likely irreparably damaged.
   Similarly, Sandbag Dam (Zečji nasip, dir. Čejen Černić Čanak, 2025) is set in a small Croatian village. Slaven returns home from abroad for his father’s funeral and reconnects with his childhood friend and love, Marko. The two rekindle their relationship, which exposes them to further homophobia in their surroundings. The film concludes with the implication that both plan to leave together, heading west to a place where they might enjoy greater freedom to be themselves.

2. Current political climate and attitudes towards LGBTQ+ population (Film festivals, media coverage, national Oscar submissions, etc.)
   
   After the turbulent 1990s and early 2000s, attitudes towards the LGBTQ+ population improved. With Bosnia and Herzegovina holding its first Pride Parade in 2019, all countries in the Balkans now officially host Pride events, making LGBTQ+ people more visible in public spaces (povorka-ponosa.ba). However, while LGBTQ+ minorities have successfully advocated for certain rights, same-sex marriage remains largely unavailable in the region, existing only in Slovenia and Greece. Even in these countries, prejudices persist, and many individuals are still likely to conceal their sexuality at work or seek parental approval before coming out. (LGBT Rights in Greece, n.d.; LGBT Rights in Slovenia, n.d.) While Croatia and Montenegro have legalised civil unions for same-sex couples, Albania, Bosnia and Herzegovina, North Macedonia, Romania, and Serbia have not yet established such legal frameworks. In 2024, Kosovo’s Prime Minister announced his government’s intention to legalise same-sex unions; however, no such legislation has been enacted to date. (Euractiv, 2024) Compared to the Western world, the Balkan region still appears to lag behind in terms of LGBTQ+ rights and visibility. Nevertheless, LGBTQ+ themes are increasingly entering the mainstream in regional media, as evidenced by several recent films. The Marriage was Kosovo’s official entry for Best Foreign Language Film at the 91st Academy Awards (Hollywood Reporter), while Housekeeping for Beginners served as North Macedonia’s submission in 2024 (Focus Features), and Beautiful Evening, Beautiful Day (Lijepa večer, lijep dan, dir. Ivona Luka, 2024) was Croatia’s entry in 2025. (croatiaweek, 2024) Slovenia’s entry for the 98th Academy Awards is Little Trouble Girls (Kaj ti je deklica, dir. Urška Djukić, 2025), which also explores LGBTQ+ themes.
   In addition, there is increasing focus on the historical representation of homosexuality. At the 72nd Pula Film Festival, Warm Film (Topli film, dir. Dragan Jovićević, 2024) was screened, examining queer history through the lens of Yugoslav cinema (Topli Film). In 2025, Franko Dota published his PhD research, Politička povijest muške homoseksualnosti u Socijalističkoj Jugoslaviji, which also analyses the portrayal of gay characters in film. (Politička Povijest Muške Homoseksualnosti u Socijalističkoj Jugoslaviji / Franko Dota, n.d.)
   When it comes to film festivals focusing on queer themes, the Ljubljana LGBT Film Festival is the oldest LGBTQ+ film festival in Europe, having been launched in 1984, and continues to operate today. In 2003, Zagreb followed with Queer Zagreb, although in later years it has broadened its scope to encompass all performing arts, rather than film alone. (Kajinić, 2019, p. 2) In Serbia, Belgrade has hosted the International Queer Film Festival Merlinka since 2009. The festival is named after Vjeran Miladinović, the protagonist and lead actor in Marble Ass. (Kajinić, 2019, p. 22) It has also been held in Sarajevo since 2013 and in Tuzla since 2015, making it the only active film festival organised annually across more than one country. (Merlinka u Bosni i Hercegovini, n.d.) In 2020, Romania held the first edition of art200: International Queer Culture Festival (‘Ediția I’, n.d.) and in 2023, the Prishtina Queer Festival was founded. (Pristhina Queer Festival… – Embassy of the Netherlands in Kosovo | Facebook, n.d.)

3. Comparison to Western LGBTQ+ films today
   
   Recently, films with LGBTQ+ themes and characters have achieved considerable success with both audiences and critics. Everything Everywhere All at Once (dir. Daniel Kwan, Daniel Scheinert, 2022) won seven Oscars, including Best Picture in 2023. The film explores both the immigrant experience and the fear of coming out to immigrant parents, framed within a fantastical plot. Similarly, films such as Shiva Baby (dir. Emma Seligman, 2020) and Happiest Season (dir. Clea DuVall, 2020), which feature a main character hiding her sexuality from her familiy, are comedies that address these themes in a more light-hearted manner. The prominence of LGBTQ+ characters has become increasingly normalised, with some films almost entirely glossing over homophobia or potential challenges associated with being gay. For example, in Red, White & Royal Blue (dir. Matthew López, 2023), the son of the American president and Britain’s prince end up together without significant repercussions for international relations. Since 2020, even Hallmark—known for its simple romantic comedies—has released multiple films featuring same-sex relationships, further demonstrating the mainstream acceptance of LGBTQ+ characters.
   By contrast, in the Balkans, most films still centre on the challenges faced by the LGBTQ+ community and societal prejudices, despite some progress in certain countries. Genre-wise, the majority of these films are dramas, with comedies and romantic films being rare. However, the recent increase in LGBTQ+ film production may indicate the eventual emergence of lighter, less sombre stories in the region.

1. Conclusion
   
   While Balkan cinematography has historically lagged behind Western cinema, Balkan films were still quite progressive for their time, and LGBTQ+ characters were more prevalent than one might expect. However, after the 1990s, Yugoslav films in particular began to explore LGBTQ+ themes while simultaneously critiquing society, conservatism, and nationalism. Other countries in the region focused not only on LGBTQ+ issues but also on the experiences of ethnic minorities. The Bury Your Gays trope is relatively common in Balkan films, though it is less often used to punish homosexual behaviour and more frequently to elicit sympathy for LGBTQ+ characters from the audience. Surprisingly, earlier films rarely employed this trope, and LGBTQ+ characters were typically relegated to minor supporting roles. Today, queer films are more prevalent than ever, and it is hoped that, in time, they will increasingly allow their characters happier endings. 

Filmography:

 

Albania

• Alimani, B. (Director). (2021). The Albanian Virgin, Albania; Germany.
• Bispuri, L. (Director). (2015). Sworn Virgin [Burrnesha], Italy; Switzerland; Germany; Kosovo; Albania.​
• Dehlavi, J. (Director). (2014). Seven Lucky Gods, United Kingdom; Albania.​

Bosnia and Herzegovina

• Imamović, A. (Director). (2005). Go West

Croatia

• Juka, I. (Director). (2024). Beautiful Evening, Beautiful Day [Lijepa večer, lijep dan]
• Maycug, Z. (Director). (1996). Calvary [Kalvarija]
• Grlić, R. (Director). (2016). The Constitution [Ustav Republike Hrvatske]
• Matanić, D. (Director). (2002). Fine Dead Girls [Fine mrtve djevojke]
• Marasović, N. (Director). (2016). Goran
• Nola, L. (Director). (1997). Russian Meat [Rusko meso]
• Čermić Čanak, Č. (Director). (2024). Sandbag Dam [Zečji nasip]
• Karanović, S. (Director). (1991). Virgina

Greece

• Katakouzinos, G. (Director). (1982). Angel [Άγγελος]
• Marinakis, V. (Director). (2009). Black Field [Μαύρο Λιβάδι]
• Giannaris, C. (Director). (1998). From the Edge of the City [Από την άκρη της πόλης]
• Iliadis, D. (Director). (2004). Hardcore
• Mastorakis, N. (Director). (1976). Island of Death [Τα παιδιά του Διαβόλου]
• Kammitsis, S. (Director). (2021). The Man with the Answers [Ο άνθρωπος με τις απαντήσεις]
• Nikolaidis, N. (Director). (1999). See You in Hell, My Darling [Θα σε Δω στην Κόλαση Αγάπη μου]
• Nikolaidis, N. (Director). (1990). Singapore Sling: The Man Who Loved a Corpse [Singapore Sling: Ο Άνθρωπος που Αγάπησε ένα Πτώμα]
• Koultras, P. H. (Director). (2009). Strella [Στρέλλα]
• Koutras, P. H. (Director). (2014). Xenia

Kosovo

• Zeqiri, B. (Director). (2017). The Marriage [Martesa], Kosovo; Albania.​

North Macedonia

• Stolevski, G. (Director). (2023). Housekeeping for Beginners [Домаќинство за почетници]

Romania

• Giurgiu, T. (Director). (2006). Love Sick [Legături bolnăvicioase]
• Mladenović, I. (Director). (2017). Soldiers: Story from Ferentari [Soldații. Poveste din Ferentari]
• Pârvu, E. (Director). (2024). Three Kilometres to the End of the World [Trei kilometri până la capătul lumii]
• Mungiu, C. (Director). (2012). Beyond the Hills [După dealuri]

Serbia

• Žilnik, Ž. (Director). (1995). Marble Ass [Dupe od mramora]
• Milinković, M. (Director). (2008). Obituary for Escobar [Čitulja za Eskobara]
• Dragojević, S. (Director). (2011). The Parade [Parada]
• Marinković, D. (Director). (2004). Take a Deep Breath [Diši duboko]
• Filipović, S. (Director). (2015). Next to Me [Pored mene]

Slovenia

• Weiss, M. (Director). (2002). Guardian of the Frontier [Varuh meje]​
• Djukić, U. (Director). (2025). Little Trouble Girls [Kaj ti je deklica]​

Yugoslavia

• Marković, G. (Director). (1980). All That Jack’s [Majstori, majstori]
• Kozomara, Lj., Mihić, G. (Directors). (1969). Crows [Vrane]
• Papić, K. (Director). (1969). Handcuffs [Lisice]
• Marković, G. (Director). (1979). National Class Category Up to 785 Ccm [Nacionalna klasa]
• Stojanović, L. (Director). (1971). Plastic Jesus [Plastični Isus]​
• Radivojević, M. (Director). (1981). The Promising Boy [Дечко који обећава]
• Pavlović, Ž. (Director). (1967). The Rats Woke Up [Буђење пацова]

Others

• • Lewis, J. H. (Director). (1955). The Big Combo
  • Oswald, R. (Director). (1919). Different from the Others [Anders als die Andern]
  • Griffith, D. W. (Director). (1916). Intolerance
  • DeMille, C. B. (Director). (1922). Manslaughter
  • Hitchcock, A. (Director). (1948). The Rope
  • Schlesinger, J. (Director). (1971). Sunday Bloody Sunday
  • Stiller, M. (Director). (1916). The Wings [Vingarne]

• Wellman, W. A. (Director). (1927). Wings

Bibliography

 

Ágoston, G., & Masters, B. A. (2009). Encyclopedia of the Ottoman Empire. Infobase Publishing.

Banning of Belgrade Pride is a dark day for human rights in Serbia. (2011, September 30). Amnesty International. https://www.amnesty.org/en/latest/news/2011/09/banning-belgrade-pride-dark-day-human-rights-serbia/

Benshoff, H. M., & Griffin, S. (Eds). (2010). Queer images: A history of gay and lesbian film in America. Rowman & Littlefield Pub.

BFI | Sight & Sound | From the Edge of the City (1998). (n.d.). Retrieved 23 October 2025, from http://old.bfi.org.uk/sightandsound/review/367

Book (eISB),  electronic I. S. (n.d.). Electronic Irish Statute Book (eISB). Office of the Attorney General. Retrieved 6 November 2025, from https://www.irishstatutebook.ie/eli/1885/act/69/enacted/en/print

croatiaweek. (2024, September 6). Croatian film Lijepa večer, lijep dan enters Oscars race. Croatia Week. https://www.croatiaweek.com/croatian-film-lijepa-vecer-lijep-dan-enters-oscars-race/

Danesi, M. (2013). The History of the Kiss! Palgrave Macmillan US. https://doi.org/10.1057/9781137376855

Definition of CLICHÉ. (n.d.). Retrieved 6 November 2025, from https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/clich%C3%A9

Ediția I. (n.d.). Art200.Culturaqueer. Retrieved 6 November 2025, from https://art200.ro/editia-i/

Euractiv. (2024, April 26). Kosovo promises to introduce same-sex unions in May. Euractiv. https://www.euractiv.com/news/kosovo-promises-to-introduce-same-sex-unions-in-may/

Fejes, N., & Balogh, A. P. (2013). Queer Visibility in Post-socialist Cultures (1st ed). Intellect Books Ltd.

Fotiou, M. (2015). Monstrous Women and the Subversion of Patriarchy in Nikos Nikolaidis’s Films Singapore Sling and See You in Hell, My Darling. In D. Farnell, R. Noiva, & K. Smith (Eds), Perceiving Evil: Evil Women and the Feminine (pp. 109–117). BRILL. https://doi.org/10.1163/9781848880054_012

Gilić, N. (2021). The Rats Woke Up – On Figures of Dissent in Belgrade’s Underbelly in Pavlović’s Vision. [Sic] – a Journal of Literature, Culture and Literary Translation, 1.12. https://doi.org/10.15291/sic/1.12.lc.2

Homosexual—Etymology, Origin & Meaning. (n.d.). Etymonline. Retrieved 6 November 2025, from https://www.etymonline.com/word/homosexual

Horvat, A. (2023). Bring on The Parade: Queer cinema, memories of war and transnationalism in Srđan Dragojević’s Parada (2011). Transnational Screens, 14(1), 47–63. https://doi.org/10.1080/25785273.2023.2184568

Jelača, D. (2016). Dislocated Screen Memory. Palgrave Macmillan US. https://doi.org/10.1057/9781137502537

Kajinić, S. (2019). Post-Yugoslav Queer Festivals. Springer International Publishing. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-28231-8

LGBT Rights in Greece. (n.d.). Equaldex. Retrieved 6 November 2025, from https://www.equaldex.com/region/greece

LGBT Rights in Slovenia. (n.d.). Equaldex. Retrieved 6 November 2025, from https://www.equaldex.com/region/slovenia

Lim, J. S. (n.d.). The Photographic Construction of Kissing, Late 19th to Mid-20th Centuries.

Maja Weiss’ Guardian of the Frontier (Varuh Meje, 2002). (2023, August 28). East European Film Bulletin. https://eefb.org/retrospectives/maja-weiss-guardian-of-the-frontier-varuh-meje-2002/

Marble Ass. (n.d.). Arsenal – Institut Für Film Und Videokunst e.V. Retrieved 21 September 2025, from https://www.arsenal-berlin.de/en/cinema/film-screening/marbel-ass-2471/

Merlinka u Bosni i Hercegovini. (n.d.). Kvirhana. Retrieved 6 November 2025, from https://www.kvirhana.ba/copy-of-home-1

Nakon molitve bludili smo cijeli dan: KALVARIJA ZVONIMIRA MAYCUGA | Zeljko Luketic – Academia.edu. (2022, January 31). https://web.archive.org/web/20220131195247/https://www.academia.edu/8041423/Nakon_molitve_bludili_smo_cijeli_dan_KALVARIJA_ZVONIMIRA_MAYCUGA

Nudes, A.-S., & Stiles, S. (n.d.). –e*I*45– (Vol. 8 No. 4) August 2009, is published and © 2009 by Earl Kemp. All rights reserved. It is produced and distributed bi-monthly through http://efanzines.com by Bill Burns in an e-edition only.

O’Brien, J. (2009). Encyclopedia of Gender and Society. SAGE.

(PDF) [Curated Retrospective] PSIHOTRONIČKI FILM (PSYCHOTRONIC FILM) Of Zvonimir Maycug—Feature Film Retrospective | Zeljko Luketic—Academia.edu. (2021, December 19). https://web.archive.org/web/20211219133112/https://www.academia.edu/45161024/_Curated_Retrospective_PSIHOTRONIC_KI_FILM_PSYCHOTRONIC_FILM_Of_Zvonimir_Maycug_Feature_Film_Retrospective

Politička povijest muške homoseksualnosti u socijalističkoj Jugoslaviji / Franko Dota. (n.d.). Retrieved 6 November 2025, from https://katalog.kgz.hr/pagesResults/bibliografskiZapis.aspx?&currentPage=1&searchById=0&sort=5&new=30&age=0&selectedId=58000367

Pristhina Queer Festival… – Embassy of the Netherlands in Kosovo | Facebook. (n.d.). Retrieved 6 November 2025, from https://web.facebook.com/DutchEmbassyKosovo/posts/pristhina-queer-festival-starts-today-dont-miss-the-opportunity-to-attend-the-fi/693201006183587/?_rdc=1&_rdr#

Propp, V. (n.d.). Morphology of the Folktale.

Russo, V. (1987). The celluloid closet: Homosexuality in the movies (Rev. ed). Harper & Row.

Wilde, O. (1999). The picture of Dorian Gray. Oxford University Press.

Wilde, O. (with Frankel, N.). (2012). The Uncensored Picture of Dorian Gray. Belknap Press of Harvard University Press.