The film is framed as a joyful celebration of resilience and community, emphasizing that drag is a powerful tool for enduring discrimination and bringing people together.
Insiders whisper that the documentary avoids sensationalizing the 1988 murder of drag pioneer Mummo, choosing instead to focus on the 'curmudgeonly' personality of survivor Jolanda to avoid exploitative trauma porn.
Premiering at the 30th Tallinn Black Nights Film Festival (PÖFF); Jolanda, 70, refused to use she/her pronouns and initially rejected the film; Director Kuosmanen cites the 1988 killing of Mummo in Helsinki as the historical anchor.
This isn't just a nostalgia trip; it’s a strategic reclaiming of language and history in a climate where fear is weaponized against queer joy.
Let’s cut to the chase: Finnish filmmaker Vesa Kuosmanen is dropping a trailer for *Fruitcakes: Dawn of Drag*, and it’s not just another feel-good documentary. Set to premiere at the 30th Tallinn Black Nights Film Festival (PÖFF) in Estonia, this film digs into the late 1970s, when Finland hosted its first drag show, *Happy Gays*. The headline here isn't just the glitter; it’s the grit. Kuosmanen explicitly links the historical violence against queer figures like Mummo—who was killed in his Helsinki home in 1988—to the current backlash against trans and queer rights. He argues that the anger we see on social media and in the streets is actually a mask for deep-seated fear. "It’s a fear of difference," Kuosmanen told *The Hollywood Reporter*, noting that while algorithms push anger, the root cause is fear. The protagonist, Jolanda, is a retired archivist and one of the original *Happy Gays* performers. At 70, he is described by the director as "curmudgeonly" with a cynical sense of humor who initially refused to participate. Jolanda kept every newspaper clip and document from the era, providing the visual backbone for the film. But here’s the tea: Jolanda refuses to use the pronouns "she/her," a detail Kuosmanen highlights to show his authenticity. The filmmaker deliberately avoided portraying him as a "righteous hero," instead opting to show a flawed human being. This approach seems to be a direct rebuttal to the polished, often sanitized narratives that usually dominate queer cinema. Kuosmanen wanted to avoid the trope where queer characters exist solely to be killed for dramatic effect, stating, "When you portray queer violence, in a way it creates more violence." The documentary employs a unique structure, mixing archival footage with reenactments performed by a new generation of drag artists. Since video evidence of the original *Happy Gays* shows was scarce, the film uses these cross-generational interactions to bridge the gap. Kuosmanen observed a distinct difference between the older and younger performers: the veterans have a "more honest attitude to life," while the younger generation is "polished" and over-thought. By pairing them, the film creates a dialogue about how drag has evolved from a subversive act of survival to a celebrated art form, yet still faces threats. The title itself is a statement of reclamation. Kuosmanen explains that words like "queer" and "fruitcake" were once slurs, but using them now is an act of defining one’s own identity. "It’s about reclaiming history in the sense that it’s us who define what we can be called," he said. As the trailer drops, the film’s sales agent, Rise and Shine, is pitching it as a "masterpiece of Finnish humor" with a "very timely message." Anja Dziersk from the agency notes that queer life is being "challenged and threatened every day," making the film’s focus on joy amidst horror particularly urgent. The film doesn’t dwell on the forensic details of Mummo’s murder, but rather on the long-lasting impact of sorrow and the necessity of celebration. For tea-rex, this is the ultimate power move: taking a history that was nearly forgotten—so obscure that finding witnesses felt like uncovering a lost civilization—and turning it into a loud, unapologetic party. The message is clear: fear drives anger, but drag drives resilience. And in 2026, we need that resilience more than ever.
