Layla review – Bilal Hasna shines

Layla (Bilal Hasna) has been living a double life. As a non-binary drag queen, they’re surrounded by a queer artistic community and regularly perform at the fictional London nightclub Feathers. Yet in the presence of their Muslim family, they abide by tradition and still go by their deadname, Latif. When invited to perform at a corporate pride event for a ready meals company called Fork Me, Layla meets strait-laced marketing exec Max (Louis Greatorex), who ends up joining them and their friends at a Feathers queer party, kicking off their romantic fling.

Amrou Al-Kadhi’s debut trades in any unique qualities that a queer film can exhibit in terms of form and content, with the tried and tested formula of the palatable, cheesy odd couple romance. Here, it’s between the ​“eccentric” Arab non-binary drag queen and the ​“conventional” white corporate gay man. It’s this glaringly harsh contrast – between the vibrant and diverse queer scene in which Layla finds their community, and the drab, corporate, middle-class life of the straight-passing Max – that ends up driving the film forward; a somewhat ironic binary to rely on as a primary site of friction.

There is phenomenal cinematography and costume design on display, which come together to create a sumptuous atmosphere, but one that is sadly let down by a script largely shorn of the complex nuance behind all the ideas Al-Khadi is trying to explore. In an attempt to consolidate conflicting identities and communities, Layla’s journey of identity with their relationship to their family – as well as the added elements of racial dynamics in queer relationships and subtle transmisogyny microaggressions – few of these ideas are afforded with the adequate space to be fleshed out, or to be emotionally explored with nuance. This feels true especially in the case of Layla’s family portrayal and their Palestinian background, a thread established only in passing and quickly dismissed in favour of focusing on Layla’s struggle to navigate a new relationship with a white man.

Bilal Hasna shines as Layla, delivering a magnetic performance, but unfortunately the same can’t be said for the rest of the cast, who fall victim to the contrivances of a script that was maybe taken out of the oven before it was fully cooked. Yet, despite the cheesiness and familiar story beats, there is plenty of energy and heart behind this project, and its themes of transformation, freedom and authenticity are sure to resonate.

Little White Lies is committed to championing great movies and the talented people who make them.

By becoming a member you can support our independent journalism and receive exclusive essays, prints, film recommendations and more.