Moving images of the British monarchy, in fact and fiction, are almost as old as the moving image itself, dating back to an 1895 dramatic vignette, The Execution of Mary Queen of Scots. Led by Queen Victoria, British monarchs themselves appeared in the new 'animated photography' from 1896. Half a century later, the 1953 coronation of Elizabeth II was a milestone in the adoption of television, watched by 20 million Britons and 100 million North Americans. At the century's end, Princess Diana's funeral was viewed by 2.5 billion worldwide. Seventeen essays by international commentators examine the portrayal of royalty in the 'actuality' picture, the early extended feature, amateur cinema, the movie melodrama, the Commonwealth documentary, New Queer Cinema, TV current affairs, the big screen ceremonial and the post-historical boxed set. These contributors include Ian Christie, Elisabeth Bronfen, Andrew Higson, Steven Fielding, Karen Lury, Glyn Davis, Ann Gray, Jane Landman, Victoria Duckett, Jude Cowan Montague, James Downs, Barbara Straumann, Deirdre Gilfedder, Jo Stephenson, Ruth Adams, Erin Bell, Basil Glynn and Nicola Rehling.

Open Access (free)
Quentin Crisp as Orlando’s Elizabeth I
Glyn Davis

’s ‘queenliness’ and his roles as Elizabeth I and II are examined. Do aspects of the persona and life story of this ‘stately homo’ (a term Crisp used in reference to himself) make him an appropriate choice for either impersonation? Next, attention is turned to debates about queer cinema that circulated in the early 1990s, and the complicated position that Potter’s Orlando and Quentin Crisp occupy in relation to

in The British monarchy on screen
Open Access (free)
Mandy Merck

confrontational queer activism. With it came a ‘new queer cinema’ which transgressed received history in a pointedly artificial mise-en-scène (Isaac Julien’s 1989 Looking for Langston , Derek Jarman’s 1991 Edward II , Tom Kalin’s 1992 Swoon ). Orlando can be seen as a prime example of queer cinema, given its play with gender and sexuality and the choice of Jarman collaborator Tilda Swinton for the title role. In casting the

in The British monarchy on screen
Translatina world-making in The Salt Mines and Wildness
Laura Horak

some of the black and Latinx participants in New York’s ballroom scene at the centre of scholarly conversations about gender performativity, racialised queer subcultures, and new queer cinema in the 1990s. However, some complained that the film sensationalised the performances as a modern-​day freak show or minstrel show, and criticised the realist ethnographic style that absented the film’s director, Jennie Livingston, a white lesbian filmmaker, from the diegesis (e.g. hooks, 1996; Reid-​Pharr, 1990). In contrast, queer film scholar Lucas Hilderbrand argues that

in The power of vulnerability