“There were almost no references to Black queer girls in the films or TV I watched, only news stories about violence and hate crimes” 

IMAGE BY FELIX SEUFFERT

For the 40th edition of BFI Flare: London LGBTQIA+ Film Festival (18 to 29 March), the Closing Night will see a special screening of Sandulela Asanda’s exuberant romance Black Burns Fast. 

In Black Burns Fast (BBF), adorkable and studious Luthando is on track for a normal academic year at the prestigious South African boarding school she attends on scholarship. The arrival of a new girl in her class ignites Luthando’s suppressed desires which threaten her relationships and everything she thought she knew about herself. 

Ahead of the BFI Flare’s Closing Night, Sandulela Asanda chats to DIVA about the power of queer stories. 

Why was it important for you to tell this story? 

I’ve always felt the weight of this subject, even at times when it was pushed into silence. Growing up in South Africa, anything outside the norm of heterosexuality wasn’t acknowledged. At school and at home, queerness was either ignored or spoken about with derision and then quickly moved back into the shadows. There were almost no references to Black queer girls in the films or TV I watched, only news stories about violence and hate crimes. That absence shaped how I understood myself and my place in the world.

Now, I feel the urgency in giving young audiences the images and possibilities I never had. While researching this film, it was disheartening to find only two international references with Black cast: Rafiki and Pariah. There were no South African stories centred on two Black queer girls. That absence is still glaring. BBF aims to fill that gap by offering a Black lesbian love story that’s tender, awkward, joyful, and messy, reflecting real adolescence. Instead of trauma, Luthando experiences support, love, and belonging. 

Was there a specific moment or reference point which inspired your film? 

I started the development of this film during 2020, when there was a public discussion by alumni and current Black students of previously white-only schools about the micro and macro aggressions that they experienced. At the same time, I was coming into my queerness, and as a result, I was looking back into my youth for “the signs”, and what I found was that there was never really a space to even explore this part of myself because of the nature of the school environment that I grew up in. 

Like much of South African society, these schools are conservative and steeped heavily in Christian and class-based traditions. There was no space for me, or women who look like me, to explore identities outside of the binary or the set standard of what was “right”. I also went to a boarding school, which made this experience all the more consuming. Despite our democracy, Black students are still the minority in these PWI’s (previously white institutions)  and are expected to conform to their Western standards and “culture”. This is what inspired me to build the world of the story and this group of Black girls who navigate the space together, with Luthando’s story of self-realisation at the centre of the story. I spoke to old classmates, listened to the experiences of students and alumni from similar situations and realised that there was a very urgent need for this story. For our challenges, but also our joys to be represented in some way – not just for representation’s sake, but also for a sense of healing and reclamation of the traumas experienced. This became the guiding light to my development of the film. 

Did making this film change how you understand your own queerness?

The writing process forced me to really look back over my youth and properly put a name to the discomfort and “otherness” that I always had felt. I could see that it was always me and that is so gratifying to know, especially when after “coming out” there are so many questions about the “legitimacy” of your queerness, like “when did this happen? How, Why?”. Mind you, these questions can be internal as well. Now, I am so much more comfortable with who I am in the knowledge that this has always been me.

BFI Flare is a celebration of LGBTQIA+ storytelling. What do you hope LGBTQIA+ audiences at BFI Flare take away after watching your film? 

I think that every kind of coming of age story counts, and has a place in the world because our lives are just as varied as these stories are. I hope that the audiences embrace this joyful and dynamic approach to the African coming out experience and for themselves and be able to reclaim their own youth experience through the relationships of these girls.

BFI is celebrating its 40th anniversary this year. What LGBTQIA+ film from the last four decades has changed your life and why?

Pariah by Dee Rees. It is the first queer film that hit very close to home for me as a Black woman. I think that it can be easy to remember our youth when you’re not always connected to that part of yourself, and that film immediately dropped me back in that mindset. It’s beautifully written and shot. This film definitely has its fingerprint all over mine as one of my biggest references. 

Why is it so vital that we continue to support and celebrate spaces like BFI Flare for the next 40 years? 

It’s important that we have spaces where queerness is commonplace and not “other”, where we can exist as we are without exception. It’s not just a place of celebration, but also of community that we so badly need. As much as we’ve seen increased acceptance, we’ve also seen a backslide as well. This is especially apparent in the content that we see in the “mainstream”. Spaces like BFI Flare provide consistent places of safety, community and celebration for filmmakers and audiences.

BFI Flare has been running since 1986. What do you think queer audiences in 1986 would make of your film?

“Groundbreaking!” But in all seriousness, I think that although the film has a very specific setting, the theme of self actualisation is universal and that they’d respond well to all the warmth and fun. 

Why do you think LGBTQIA+ filmmaking is so important in 2026? 

As I alluded to before, we’ve seen a drawback in LGBTQIA+ content worldwide, as well as an increase in acceptance. Media plays a very important role in influencing societal beliefs and normalisation. Most importantly, showing our stories through film or nay form of media leads the way for others to see themselves and to dream about what could be. We exist (now, then and forever), and so should our stories! 

What queer cinematic ancestor would you want sitting next to you at your BFI Flare screening and why? 

Dee Rees, mainly for the reason of her being one of the first Black queer and woman filmmakers that I engaged with. I would be honoured for her to watch the film and for her to see the blueprint of her film in mine, to give her the flowers that she deserves as someone who has inspired my filmmaking. 

The 40th BFI Flare: London LGBTQIA+ Film Festival takes place 18 – 29 March at BFI Southbank. BLACK BURNS FAST premieres at BFI Flare on 28 March. You can find out more about BFI Flare here: whatson.bfi.org.uk/flare 

Love media made by and for LGBTQIA+ women and gender diverse people? Then you’ll love DIVA. We’ve been spotlighting the community for over 30 years. Here’s how you can get behind queer media and keep us going for another generation: linkin.bio/ig-divamagazine 

Did you know that DIVA has now become a charity? Our magazine is published by the DIVA Charitable Trust. You can find out more about the organisation and how you can offer your support here: divacharitabletrust.com

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