On a Wednesday night in early fall, I walked up the steep grey steps and through the wooden doors of the francophone cultural organization Union Française in downtown Montreal. Purple, cream and black posters decorated the entrance. The images—of scattered objects and sprawling human forms lounging, dancing and spilling out of a vintage television screen—formed a bespoke collage referencing trans films, complete with an angel-like figure struck by arrows. It was the opening night of Exposures, one of the world’s few trans film festivals—an exact number is hard to pin down, but best estimations count less than double digits—and billed as the only one of its kind in Canada. 

As I entered the festival’s cinq-à-sept launch party, there was a hum of excitement in the room, contrasting a timidity from some festival attendees. A sizeable contingent appeared to have come alone, and were reading ...