Movie Review – Kokomo City

Kokomo City (2023)
Directed by D. Smith

I have started to feel despondent about the state of documentaries in America. It seems everything that comes out is in the true crime genre. While some of these have been entertaining, like Wild Wild Country, most of them are fancier & longer Dateline segments. I want films that dive into the lives of interesting people or topics like the Maysles Brothers, Barbara Kopple, or Frederick Wiseman. I was so happy to find this doc, which is not just about fascinating people but very artfully made. 

Director D. Smith interviews four Black trans women who are sex workers from New York City and Atlanta. They operate across the entire economic scale of sex work, from women soliciting on the street to more expensive dominatrices. Through these conversations, ideas about the intersectionality of their genders, race, and occupations are discussed. We see re-enactments of encounters with clients, both humorous and sometimes harrowing. Even more, they interview Black cis men who either have relationships with Black trans women or are clients, and they share how other men like them are often hypocrites, hiding behind toxic masculinity and privately having sex with trans women.

This quote sums up the message of the film quite well, “Everyone is so worried about who is fucking who when at the end of the day, they all want to fuck each other. That’s the whole tea.” As transgender people have become a topic of neurotic fixation by conservatives in America, it’s quite apt. I’m a white cis man, so it’s strange for me to talk about this world, which is beyond what I have directly experienced. I can’t say I’ve ever felt a strong attraction to a trans person, but I’ve only felt an attraction to such a small number of people in my life, period. And I’ve never solicited a sex worker, cis or trans.

My wife and I aren’t swingers, so I don’t expect there would be a time when I would hook up with anyone else, trans or cis. I think there are many beautiful trans people, both physically and personality-wise. I really admire them; they have an authenticity that I envy. It’s tremendously hard to be out as trans in the States, and being Black on top of that sounds like something that comes with a host of unfair struggles. When I look at the sweaty, anxiety-ridden white Evangelicals who can’t seem to stop thinking about LGBTQ people, I find them disgusting. They are phonies, desperately needing the world to conform to an ideal someone else told them about. 

Through vibrant black & white photography, we hear stories about clients coming to appointments with guns. There’s a physical fight when one woman believes she’s going to be killed by the client, which ends in him running off. He does come back, and they do have sex, but he explains he was worried he might get jumped or robbed. Hence, decriminalized sex work would take away much of the peril associated with this life, just as with drugs. When things have to go underground, they become cesspools of exploitation and violence. In the light of day, people can be protected, and everyone can be safe.

Part of this underground is tied to the twisted gender politics of American society. Cis men don’t want to be seen as “weak” or “gay” for being with a trans woman. As a result, they won’t interact with these women unless it is in secret, and even then, they are so riddled with anxiety it’s not a surprise when they turn violent after the sex act. It’s socially indoctrinated self-loathing, which becomes deadly when combined with the violence of toxic masculinity. 

I was particularly struck by Daniella Carter’s eloquence, articulating both personal & political points connecting her marginalization to how capitalism pushes people to alienate from each other. We’re conditioned to see anyone unlike as an aberration of “normal,” which is an actual slippery slope. Eventually, even your “allies” will become your enemies because human diversity is essential to existence. You can see an incredible diversity among all these women, reminding us white people that Black is not a monolith but individuals with many shared experiences but a myriad of personalities and points of view.

The horror of how society treats Black trans women tragically became a part of this film. Koko Da Doll, one of the women based out of Atlanta, was found in April on a sidewalk dead from a gunshot wound. A teenage suspect was eventually arrested, but it’s honestly too little, too late. Koko never should have lived with this sort of bleak hell looming. She was as good a person as any of us. A hate crime investigation is ongoing, which means the authorities believe Koko was murdered because she was transgender. 

This causes me to recall the recent murder of Chyna Long in October 2023, another Black trans woman. She was shot while dancing on the sidewalk in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. If that wasn’t horrible enough, Chyna was the fourth trans woman murdered in that city over the last 18 months. There’s no reason any of this should be happening beyond the irrational hate fomented by insecure bigots. In 2023, 12 transgender women were murdered in total, 83% by gun violence. These are just the cases we know of. With sex work being done in secret because of its illegality, there are likely more.

Kokomo City brings these ideas up for discussion but refuses to let go of the joy in these women’s lives. One woman is in a committed relationship with a cis man, and it’s beautiful to see their love for each other. Don’t all people deserve to have that kind of love and not have to worry that their partner will be gunned down simply for existing authentically as themselves? Trans people have been with us since the dawn of humanity, and they will be with us until the last of our species goes extinct. What will pass are archaic dogmas that thrive & grow on hate, but clearly not soon enough.