by Avery Coffey, Staff Writer

Tubi, despite its corporate affiliations, is a cinephile’s dream on a budget. Their catalog ranges in timeless classics, international treasures, and indie gems. I was digging myself deeper into a hole of sapphic films this summer when I stumbled upon the 2018 Swedish film Blue My Mind, directed by Lisa Brühlmann. Think Aquamarine (2006) going toe to toe with Ginger Snaps (2000) while Thirteen (2003) referees. It’s a beautiful depiction of teenage girlhood while giving us some of the most grotesque visuals.

The movie follows fifteen-year old Mia (Luna Wedler) in the midst of starting over at a new school. After her father’s job transition, she’s an outcast in an unfamiliar place during puberty, a time when teenagers feel like strangers in their own bodies. Her efforts land her in the enticing circle of underage cigarette smokers. Though they inferiorize her for “underdevelopment,” her initiation into the group almost triggers the transformation that drives the rest of the film. Her friendship with Gianna, the Regina George of the group, awakens something deeper than her body’s development.

Body horror is best served in the depiction of a horrific transformation. Werewolf films like Ginger Snaps are rooted in rage, whereas creature flicks like The Fly (1986) are manifestations of morbid desire. They’re also inherently queer. Brühlmann’s film converges the experience of a teenage girl and the sapphic experience in a coming-of-age narrative. It tosses around indigestible topics easily masked by the fantastical mermaid transformation. Horror stands on this principle as a whole, but transformation horror can be heavy handed while hitting the nail on the head. We’re too distracted by the body horror of it all.

With a lifelong fondness for mermaids, I’m disappointed at how niche this horror category is. Maybe you’re in the market for capital C-horror with questionable CGI. We listen and we don’t judge. We’re lacking solid recipes though. We can thank Guillermo del Toro for being the blueprint. Blue My Mind balances the scales of horror and fantasy evenly without losing the dramatic tone. Similar to the magnetism that mermaids are said to have, this film lures you in with–if not with the synopsis–with the stunning visuals until you’re sunken and the credits are rolling.

The depiction of unruly teens without adult supervision is always an exhilarating watch, too. There’s an apprehension keeping you on your toes for when shit hits the fan. The drugs, alcohol, and reckless behavior always leads to a big climax. Mia’s caught between this obligated attraction to the boys she sleeps with and the desire to get closer to Gianna. She tries to outrun the progression of her mermaid features all while distracting herself with the approval that comes after every tick to her body count. That is, until Gianna is at risk of drowning. Mia’s instinctive act to dive in to save her is a testament to Gianna’s value in Mia’s journey. For most queer women, it only takes one homoerotic friendship to open your third eye.

This movie will leave an impression that you can’t shake. Beyond that, I found comfort in it. People say that your twenties are for healing your inner teenager. She’s one step closer to being healed with every piece of sapphic media that I consume. A movie like this is a manifestation of her wildest dreams. Blue My Mind, if more people knew about it, would find itself sharing lists with other queer cult classics.