“Lesbian Space Princess“, an animated sci-fi musical comedy with perhaps the best name of all time, begins by claiming this is “the love story of Kiki and Saira.” That is, until Kiki tells Saira the two words no one wants to hear: “You’re dumped.” It’s even worse when that bomb is dropped unexpectedly, as is the case with Saira. Just two seconds earlier, the titular princess was going through a scrapbook she’d made of the pair’s relationship, saying “I know in our hearts we will be together forever and ever and ever.”
That’s no longer the case, of course, yet their story doesn’t end there, and that’s because it’s no longer a love story. Or at least, not the one you’d expect. Because when Kiki is suddenly kidnapped by the Straight White Maliens, who else is going to rescue Saira’s “Hot as fuck (ex) partner” than Saira herself, daughter to the lesbian Queens of Planet Clitopolis?
Subtle this film is not, but that’s very much the point. Immediately after Saira’s dumped, the words “She’s a lesbian, she’s in space, and she’s also a princess — oh, and she’s very sad” ring out in song, letting audiences know exactly what they’re in for. That absurdity carries through as this tongue-in-cheek adventure takes Saira out of her comfort zone in more ways than one. To deliver the ransom, her royal labrys, the titular princess has just 24 hours to reach the Straight White Maliens and hand over the most powerful weapon known to lesbian kind. Along the way, Saira must contend with a problematic ship (I see what you’re doing there) and Willow, a gay popstar runaway whose acoustic vocals can put you under her spell (see what I’m doing there?)
If you too are as obsessed with “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” as I am, you will see what I’m doing, because you’ll clock that one of Willow’s songs starts with a guitar riff that deliberately evokes “Under Your Spell”… Yes, that lesbian love song sung by Willow and Tara in the show’s groundbreaking musical episode, “Once More With Feeling”. It’s a small detail that will fly under the radar for most people watching, and the same is likely true for countless more that probably flew past me as well on this first watch.
This attention to detail and layering of gags within gags evokes “Wallace & Gromit” of all things, such as a DVD titled “Raiders of the Lost Dyke”, not to mention countless other visual jokes crammed into the world of Clitopolis and beyond. Yet the animation is literally worlds removed from Aardman Studios, inspired instead by anime like “Sailor Moon” as well as psychedelic hand-drawn cartoons such as “Adventure Time”, “The Midnight Gospel”, and to a lesser degree, “Rick & Morty”. It’s miraculous that South Australian co-writers/directors Emma Hough Hobbs and Leela Varghese manage this on what the press notes describe as a “near impossible budget”, crafting a heartfelt candy-colored love letter to lesbians in a galaxy far, far away.
The charm of their animation, earnest and a little rough around the edges, also extends to the characters themselves. There’s a touch of “Scott Pilgrim vs the World” going on here with our hero out to rescue their ex, yet this time around, the green-haired bisexual isn’t the ex at all. Instead, she’s the manic pixie dream girl vying for our hero’s attention. Gemma Chua Tran, of “Heartbreak High” fame, transcends that stereotype however with some much-needed nuance while Shabana Azeez takes the “Most Boring Royal (as voted for by the people)” and actually makes her pretty interesting.
In fact, Saira’s ongoing battle with anxiety is one of the film’s strengths, using the unlimited scope of animation to embody mental illness in a very physical and relatable way. The journey itself is realistic too in that Saira doesn’t automatically overcome her fears with ease simply because she’s the protagonist and is required to do so. Yet some of the impact is lost amidst the chaos because there is simply too much going on at once, too many gags and side quests vying for your attention. It’s beautiful and bright, yes, but there are risks to be had in flying too close to the sun.
“Lesbian Space Princess” proudly boasts of its many different genre elements, encompassing everything from drama and comedy to sci-fi and musical theater, all filtered through a rainbow lens. It’s part of the film’s appeal, of course, and at the beginning especially, this ambition pays off. But as more and more jokes fly our way, the hit rate begins to vary as if Saira herself is trying to make us laugh but occasionally tries too hard when she can tell it’s not always working.
Our initial encounter with “straight space” outside of Saira’s usual “safe space” is especially gag-worthy, but from that point on, other jabs (rightly) aimed at the cis straight white male majority sometimes fall flat. The Straight White Maliens are particularly on the nose, and it’s a shame because they didn’t need to be. The majority of audiences coming to a film like “Lesbian Space Princess” don’t require hand-holding when it comes to making fun of the actual people these villains represent because we’re already more than familiar with them in real life. There was scope here to be a bit more clever and go beyond the obvious, which might have been lost a bit in the film’s bid to do so much at once.
Where “Lesbian Space Princess” does excel — as you might expect and hope for — is in the way it explores queerness itself. By presenting this world as a rare queer utopia in fantasy and sci-fi, the film sets itself apart as a story that viscerally feels like it was made by and for queer people. Our stories are still a relative rarity in genre fare such as this, let alone films that actively take joy in ostracizing people who aren’t queer.. It’s a welcome role reversal, yet the film successfully has its cake and eats it too by shifting the usual queer allegory of not belonging into Saira’s struggle for power as a summoner of the legendary labrys. There she feels broken and unworthy, in ways that queer people often can, without recycling the usual tired stories of oppression and self-hatred. To be queer is the norm here in all its inter-gay-lactic glory.
So yes, this is a love story, but it’s “the love story of Kiki and Saira,” as we’re first led to believe. Refreshingly enough, it’s not necessarily the love story of Willow and Saira either. Instead, it’s a story about loving yourself, or at least learning to love yourself, which is very much needed in this day and age, even if the messaging is a bit clunky in places.
Grade: B-
“Lesbian Space Princess” premiered at the 2025 Berlin International Film Festival. It is currently seeking U.S. distribution.
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