Set in a British secondary school during the 1990s, Lady Macbeth Was Never a Girl follows fifteen-year-old Jessica as they begin to notice a quiet disconnect between who they are and who everyone expects them to be.
- What drew you to explore the moments of identity that come before someone has the language to define themselves?
I feel that queer storytelling often centres moments of trauma, conflict, or coming-out narratives, and whilst these are all valuable stories, I was interested in showing a different facet of the queer experience. I wanted to use the medium of short film to zoom into that very first moment when you know something doesn’t quite fit, but don’t yet have the language or context to understand what you’re feeling. For me, noticing is such a crucial part of self-discovery, and something we haven’t given enough onscreen space to.
In the current climate, I also wanted to explore a trans experience in a way that could create empathy without requiring an audience to have lived it themselves. I think there’s something universal about stepping into yourself and realising you might not be who other people have expected or told you to be, and I hope audiences can connect with that feeling, even if their experience of gender is completely different. - How did setting the story in a 1990s secondary school shape the way you approached Jessica’s experience?
The 1990s setting came initially from this very clear image I had of the two girls watching the boys playing football at lunchtime, and my naïve perception that that kind of schoolyard sport segregation must be outdated, especially after the huge growth in visibility and interest around women’s football following the success of the Lionesses. But when we started scouting school locations, I noticed that that gender divide in lunchtime sport is still very present!
That made me think more carefully about what the 90s could actually give the story. If we weren’t trying to recreate some outdated world, and the scouting had made it clear how little some of those expectations have changed, why set it in the past? I realised I still liked the idea of setting the film in a period before the kind of instant access to information that we have now.
Jessica doesn’t have immediate access to a search engine, an online community, or a vocabulary that might help them. She has to sit with the feeling. I think that became quite important to the film. It’s not necessarily that the internet makes self-discovery easier or harder, but it has changed the speed at which we can move from experiencing something to finding a label or explanation for it. My instinct was to give Jessica some space between those two things; time to experience something before they can easily define it.
And I think that’s valuable even outside the specific context of the film. In the modern world, we’re often encouraged to understand ourselves very quickly; to name something, categorise it, and know what it means. But sitting with uncertainty and allowing yourself to fully process something before deciding what it means can also be productive.
So, although the 1990s gives the film a slight cultural distance, ultimately Jessica’s experience isn’t really confined to that period. In fact, I think the setting allows us to look at those expectations around gender and belonging from a little further away, in order to recognise how present they still are. - Shakespeare’s Macbeth plays an important symbolic role in the film – what does the play allow you to express about Jessica that dialogue alone couldn’t?
I was interested in using Macbeth as a kind of language Jessica can encounter before they have language for themselves. She’s surrounded by people and institutions telling her who she’s supposed to be, but Shakespeare offers this strange, indirect way of encountering ideas about identity, expectation and transformation, without requiring verbal articulation.
Macbeth felt particularly resonant because so much of the play is concerned with expectations of who someone is supposed to become, and what happens when an identity or future is imposed on you. There’s also a resonant backdrop of prophecy in the play; The play suggests that someone can encounter an idea about themselves before they fully understand what it means, and that encounter can begin to change how they see themselves.
I also wanted to speak to the idea that literature (or art in any form!) can sometimes recognise something in us before we’re able to recognise it ourselves. Jessica doesn’t explain what they’re feeling; the play, the Shakespeare quotation and the joggers gradually accumulate and give them a glimpse of a possibility beyond the identity that’s been prescribed.
That felt much more truthful to me than having them articulate everything through dialogue. The film is really about recognition rather than declaration, so Shakespeare becomes a way of externalising that internal process. - As both writer-director and lead actor, how did wearing those different hats influence the way you told Jessica’s story?
Well, to be honest, I wasn’t originally supposed to direct! But I’m really glad I got the opportunity (thanks to a last-minute drop-out!), and I’m especially grateful to have had such a fab team around me!
In terms of balancing writer-director and actor hats, there’s definitely something interesting about having those two perspectives in constant conversation. As the actor, I could embody Jessica physically and emotionally; as the director, I had to step outside that and think about what the camera was observing, what we were leaving unsaid, and how the audience would experience it.
I think being an actor made me quite protective of Jessica’s interiority. I didn’t want to over-explain her or force her into a neat emotional journey. And then, directing allowed me to carry that restraint through the whole film.
It was definitely a challenge to switch between those roles, particularly on a micro-budget where there isn’t a huge distance between you and every decision. But I’ve emerged with a newfound confidence in my directing instincts, thanks to the lovely feedback we’ve been receiving! - The film has received recognition from both audiences and established industry figures – what has surprised you most about its response so far?
Firstly, I’m incredibly grateful for the support the film has received – from Ian McKellen’s kind words to the festival recognition, reviews, and audience responses. It’s been a real gift to see the work connect with people.
One of the biggest compliments has been seeing people recognise something of themselves in Jessica. That was always part of the intention: I wanted to make something specifically rooted in a trans/non-binary experience, but not something that felt inaccessible to people who haven’t lived that experience. For me, there’s something universal about stepping into yourself and realising you might not be who other people have told you to be, so it’s been really moving to see audiences without the direct experience recognise that deeper process of questioning, becoming, and trying to work out who you are.
Something else I’ve found surprising is the response to the film’s pace. Some people have enjoyed its slowness and the space it gives moments to breathe, while others have found that challenging. But actually, that tension feels quite meaningful to me. We’re living in a world that constantly asks us to move quickly, define ourselves quickly, and know what we think quickly. I was interested in making something that resisted that pressure a little; something that allowed Jessica, and the audience, time to notice. - This is the first part of a planned trilogy – what can we expect to see explored in the next chapter?
Yes! And I’m currently seeking funding for the second instalment, To Hold This Shape.
The film follows quiet 17-year-old Alex, who is cast as Oberon in her all-girls school’s production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Through inhabiting this masculine role, Alex discovers an unexpected freedom, prompting her to question where the role ends and she begins – and ultimately whether that question actually needs a clear answer.
To Hold This Shape continues Lady Macbeth Was Never a Girl’s interest in identity before certainty, but moves that question somewhere else. Lady Macbeth Was Never a Girl is about that first moment of noticing something in yourself; To Hold This Shape is more interested in what happens when you actively inhabit something that feels unexpectedly like you.
The films across the trilogy aren’t really interested in giving characters definitive answers about their identities; they’re interested in what happens when you start to recognise something in yourself and give yourself permission to explore it.
I think that’s also what allows the stories to speak beyond gender. Of course they’re rooted in queer and trans experiences, but fundamentally they’re about the complicated, sometimes frightening, and sometimes liberating process of becoming a person outside of the expectations placed on you.
We’re now looking for producers, funders and development partners to help bring the second film into production. Please get in contact if you are interested!