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Alice Maio Mackay has released six feature films (with a seventh in the can), and she’s only 21. As creative as she feels in this moment, she knows “the stopwatch isn’t going to be forever,” she tells me. “No one’s giving me these opportunities. I’m still trying really hard to make my art and get to do it on a larger scale. I’m super grateful that I even get to be there. If I’m not feeling deeply and passionately about these films made, they just wouldn’t get made.”
While she basks in the glorious satisfaction of making stories, creating safe sets for trans filmmakers has also proven important to her work. “I love my trans friends. I love making art with trans people I look up to and just people, in general,” she says. “I still go on a set that isn’t my own, and it’s very isolating as a trans person, no matter how progressive people are. I love having these sets and working with trans people on and off-camera. That’s really special and an integral part of why I do what I do and why I love it.”
The weight of the world, particularly in the United States, weighs heavily on the shoulders of queer people. Living in Australia, Mackay certainly feels the pressure rising, too. To alleviate those anxieties and ground herself, she turns to reading and reality TV. “I love horror, but at the same time, my whole world is horror, so I love to kind of take a look outside of that sometimes. I love Bravo. I love Vanderpump Rules. I find reality TV very light. It’s great to just switch off. When I’m watching a horror movie, I’m thinking about the work I have to do, whereas reality TV is so far detached from that world. I’ve got no stakes invested in it.”
Mackay sets her sights on her seventh film, a sci-fi feature akin to Doctor Who, hitting festivals soon.
Over a recent Zoom call, the filmmaker discusses her latest film The Serpent’s Skin, how Gen Z isn’t as “woke” as the media would like to admit, and surprises on set when it comes to perception.
With The Serpent’s Skin being your favorite film you’ve ever made, what’s your second?
It’s so hard to rank them. Each film is like a different stage I’m creating in my life. Also as an artist, how I’m feeling in that moment. It’s almost like a diary entry–a pinpoint in my life as an artist and as a person.
I love ‘T-Blockers’ a lot, and it’s really special that the film keeps having a reaction. I didn’t think anyone would want to watch it. It’s surprised me the most. Then, I love ‘Satranic Panic’ because I got to write that with my housemate at the time.
In The Serpent’s Skin, there’s a moment when Anna sees the transphobic sign on the door. She then uses that rage as an outlet for her power. That really captures what a lot of queer people are feeling right now. Was that the place that inspired it?
Yeah, I think so. It’s less rageful than something like ‘T-Blockers’ or even ‘Carnage for Christmas,’ where it’s dealing with the issues that trans women face in society. But I also didn’t want to ignore Anna’s experiences. Obviously, she has the very sweet interaction with Danny. She’s still trans and still going through those things as a trans woman does in the world, regardless of how in love she is. There is a rage and an optimism, and her being in love with another queer woman is giving her the power and energy to take on the world.
There’s a ton of queer joy in the film, as well, especially when it comes to having sex with Danny.
Obviously, it’s a very sapphic story at its heart. I’ve never really seen a casual hookup between a trans woman and a straight guy on screen. I feel like there are a lot of straight men who are just immediately the villain. You don’t really get any of that trans romantic joy between a trans woman and a man. Although, he becomes demonic, and his trauma influences a lot of his decisions later on. I feel like having this sweet moment, and also introducing to the audience that it is a trans woman–it felt like a very nice, perfect moment to include.
When Danny does turn villainous, it’s not a bigoted response necessarily. The way he treats women is bad, but it’s the aesthetic that we chose, which is this emo 2000s, kind of rocker look. A lot of those guys at the time, like Panic! at the Disco and Falling in Reverse, you think are progressive, and they are, for a little bit, but they’re kind of not on the inside. It’s a guise to get closer to women.
A big part of Anna’s story is that she struggles with the morality of killing people, adding complexity to her character. It brings up an important issue of using pain for retribution. Does that make it justified?
The only real violent death is the man who robs the store and throws her on the ground. Later, we see him attacking a woman. I want the audience to feel like he deserves it, but at the same time, you’re watching this very sweet, shy, and reserved girl do something that’s considered monstrous. I want the audience to be cheering. He is a villain to women; he’s an awful man. Anna’s been through so much and let so much slide and let people treat her badly. In that moment, it’s an intersection of does she want to be happy with Jen and take on bad people in this way or not?
Towards the end, we see that she doesn’t necessarily choose violence outright. She wants to save Danny, no matter how much pain he’s caused, or how much he’s hurting and choosing to hurt others.
It also brings up another question of taking on another queer person’s pain. Is there an obligation there?
It’s an interesting thing to portray. Even in the relationship between Jen and Anna, they’re almost trauma-bonding in a way and taking on each other’s pain. Obviously, not to the extent of killing or anything violent, but it’s still this intense emotion of relying on someone and the codependency. They both start the film with self-harm and going from really deeply traumatic places and using that trauma to meet themselves and begin a relationship. That’s the foundation. Jen is putting her trauma into the tattoo on Danny, as well, and how that trauma then manifests in him. It’s all this unresolved stuff that’s causing all this chaos in everyone’s life.
You also explore the sexual fluidity of Anna. How did that duality of Anna come to play in writing the script?
A lot of times in media, there’s a trans lesbian and they’re together with a trans woman. It’s a very binary thing, and I feel like that is definitely still around. I love labels too, like that’s great, you know, it helps people define themselves and find community and things like that. But I think, in the world that I was depicting, it’s almost like a fairytale-ish queer, punk world. The characters just are who they are, and there’s not really a big deal about it. Anna tells Danny she’s trans, and that’s kind of the end of the conversation when it comes to that. There’s still bigotry in the city, but in this particular friendship group, people just form love with whom they fall in love with. I always knew that Jen and Anna were going to be soulmates, and that was the beating heart of the story. But that’s not to negate Anna’s and Danny’s sexual, romantic chemistry.
There’s a great moment when Anna goes for a job at the record store, and the shop owner hires her on the spot without question. It’s amazing to see how people can often surprise you. You think they lean one way, socially and politically, but they actually don’t. Have you had experiences like that?
When I’m on professional jobs that aren’t my own film sets, I deal with a lot of people of a certain age, especially a lot of sets are very male-dominated, and I might have this predisposition and be like, ‘Oh, I know what they’re going to be like’ – you know, not great around trans stuff or just pronouns, in general. I’ve had the opposite quite a lot of times. At least, growing up, I’ve seen media portrayals of a lot of 40-year-olds and 50-year-olds who are super transphobic. And I’m sure there are many, but I’m more apprehensive and nervous around people my own age. You’ve got all these super right-wing male influences and social media having this really negative effect on the younger generation. Growing up with social media, I’m seeing that more men my own age— rather than the people I guess you’d expect it most from–everyone thinks Gen Z is super woke, and I don’t think that’s necessarily true.
Alexandra McVicker brings such vulnerable presence to the role. What did she bring to the table?
It was really special working with her. This was her first feature film post-transition. She’s got this sweetness and very subdued nature about herself. The way she lets people, especially in the close-ups, she allows us to see into her. As the film goes on, she has this great chemistry with Avalon, who plays Jen, and is a really fun and bubbly person underneath that. I feel like Jen would have just killed Daniel or done something reckless, whereas Anna’s taking control. She gave this confidence, although still in a reserved way.
sink. your. teeth.
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