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Jordan Stephens on new gay short film, playing queer characters and what JADE reminds him about allyship (EXCLUSIVE)

Ahead of its premiere, Jordan told us all about the new short film - and teaching his straight pals about hun culture

By Gary Grimes

Jordan Stephens
Jordan Stephens (Image: @jordanfstephens/Instagram)

Rizzle Kicks star Jordan Stephens has added another string to his bow as he takes on the role of narrator in a new short film.

The short, entitled Two Black Boys in Paradise, is a gorgeous, tender gay love story based on a poem by award-winning writer Dean Atta. The film, directed by Baz Sells, uses stop motion animation that feels reminiscent of 90s children’s television to tell the story of two young black men who fall in love but also encounter predujice on account of their race and sexuality.

The film is screening at BFI Flare as a part of the festival’s To Your Souls programme of short films. Ahead of the screening, we caught up with Jordan to find out more about the film, and also chat about his experience playing a drag queen in the 2018 film Tucked.

And, of course, in a conversation all about queer stories, Jordan’s girlfriend, our favourite pop princess and staunch queer ally, JADE was bound to come up at least once…

Hi Jordan! I watched Two Black Boys in Paradise last night and really enjoyed it. How did you come to be involved in the project?

It just came through my agent, I saw a pitch document and I got involved in trying to initially get them the funding for the film. I knew Dean when I was younger because I had a brief stint on London’s poetry circuit, which I feel is kind of dwindling a little bit which is sad, but I’d see Dean around a lot at these spoken word events. I was like, I like Dean, this is cool. Then I saw mock ups of the animation and I thought, wow, that particular style of animation was really impressive. If they could attach my name to it, then there’s more chance they get funding, which is kind of cool, so I said yeah.

The themes of the text are beautiful and feel very in line with a lot of what you talk about in other parts of your work, like your recent book. Did you relate to the text at all?

Yeah. I mean, I guess I have my own feelings of otherness, just in life, there’ll be thoughts, beliefs, confusions that would result in me feeling slightly ostracised. But specifically to that story, obviously I couldn’t possibly imagine what that’s like. I often talk about my frustrations at normalised homophobia and this very limited expectation of how masculinity should be presented. I’ve been very fortunate to grow up with a quite diverse worldview, people of all sexualities around me as a kid, so I didn’t engage. I mean, I might have participated in using slurs when I was a teenager because I literally didn’t know any better, but in terms of the actualisation of it, I mean, I was a teenager in Brighton – gay Pride was literally the best day of the year, didn’t matter what you believe or thought. I saw in those moments how thinly veiled people’s stigmas are towards certain things.

But yeah, when I read the text and I was just like, fuck, that must really be shit, like not being able to be yourself without fear of being ousted. So, I felt really happy that I was asked to voice it, and I tried to do as best job as I could with everyone’s direction.

The film’s themes of homophobia are also tackled in one of your previous projects, Tucked – did your work on that project inform your performance on Two Black Boys at all?

The only way I can explain it is that I very much believe in fluidity in all senses. The only reason why I would categorise myself as as straight or heterosexual is literally based off the coding that we in society utilise to order people. Ultimately, I did Tucked because that existence lives in me somewhere, that desire. You know, it’s clothing, it’s dancing, it’s songs – I don’t understand why they have to come alongside a total identification. I have a huge issue with how our culture views heteronormativity. People have watched that and just assumed I’m gay from the film, and then I’ve had to challenge the idea that, no, I actually was just engaging with a part of myself that, to be honest, it would be harder to do that in my normal life without being completely redefined. So that’s why I wanted to do Tucked because – this is really important – it wasn’t me pretending to be a cross dresser or queer. It was me having almost a safe space to be able to actualise that form of expression. Do you know what I mean?

Yes, so you saw it as an opportunity to express yourself in that way?

Yes. And, dare I say it, I felt pretty empowered doing that, you know. And then, again, had this total eyes open to these different expressions in life. That same curiosity and that same desire to engage with parts of the world and people in my life who I love on a deeper level, I’m always going to do that. I feel like I drift in between worlds, in terms of identification or whatever. And I feel that’s quite important, actually, so people can see that there’s more connection. Not everyone’s siphoned off into these categories and unable to engage across them.

It’s tricky, isn’t it? Because, as you say, on one side, you’ve got people that, after that project, just assume that you’re queer in some way, and then you have this other cohort of people that might take issue with issue with a straight man playing such a role. What do you make of that kind of argument?

Well, around that time, Russell T Davies actually said that straight actors shouldn’t play queer roles or something like that. There’s two versions of this answer. Firstly, the story itself is about friendship. I probably would have had more questions in my own head if it was actually about coming out, or if it was a specifically gay love story, then I probably would be like, ‘Yeah, I can do my best, but I can understand why, arguably, somebody who’s gone through that could deliver more nuance’. I do understand that but with that story, it was an opportunity for me to just express myself in a different way, but tell a story that everybody will experience regardless of how they’re expressing or how they’re presenting or what they’ve been through. It’s just an intergenerational connection with a few hints at identity and sexuality.

I personally think the more situations where heterosexual or heteronormative men can be given an insight into how much more could be expressed in their life, I think that’s a good thing. If they’re willing to actually open that part of themselves up, I would encourage that. Because if you were to just apply that rule, I would worry that there would be an actor who has been put into this box and is trying to just get along, gets a role, and then maybe within that role that they go, ‘Wait, hold on. This is connecting to me’. Like, do we agree with fluidity or not? I believe that anybody at any point could engage with a certain world if they’re willing to authentically. It’s all about intention and authenticity. That’s why I stress that I’m not pretending to do something, I was connecting to something that’s in me, and that’s why I think it’s important to have that opportunity. But I think we can use our discretion.

I believe that I’ve at least shown allegiance in and around then, and afterwards. My values in what I was representing in that role and in my life 100% coincide. And I wasn’t even dating Jade then, ha!

You’ve clearly shown your allyship before and after that – and first and foremost, by being in a relationship with Jade Thirlwall! But seriously, I am curious to know has being with Jade, who’s obviously so revered for her allyship and has, more than many of her contemporaries, really put her money where her mouth is when it comes to supporting the LGBTQ+ community… Has being with her taught you anything about how to be an ally?

That’s interesting. It’s a great question. I don’t know if she’s taught me, but maybe reminds me that allyship, in the truest senses, requires genuine, authentic engagement with what you are aligning yourself with. If we were to compare that to inauthentic allyship, maybe somebody putting up a post when it’s appropriate, and then hoping that… all I’ve seen with Jade is that she is 100% engaged with that scene and world most of the time. I mean in her immediate circle, and then the circle around the immediate circle, in the things she’s passionate about, like films. She watches music videos and obsesses over moments in history that bring her to life. Her love for for that whole world is so much so that when I introduce her to queer people in my life, the immediacy of connection is insane. I always see it if I’ve got like, a gay uncle or my mum’s mate or my mate who I used to live with, there’s something natural [between them] because there’s just a relativity. It’s so funny, I’ve spent the last two or three years teaching some of my guy mates about hun culture – they didn’t even understand! But then they all have realised their casual interaction with it, it’s this whole entire language.

It’s its own ecosystem!

It’s literally an ecosystem! I just fundamentally find that fascinating, regardless of my own interaction with it. But yeah, man, it just confirms everything that, like I say, I think I was already armed with. It’s not new or alien to me to be in these spaces.

Well congratulations on Two Black Boys in Paradise – will you make it down to the screening at BFI Flare?

Hoping to, I’m not sure as I’m so busy at the moment, man, I’m doing like, four different disciplines at the same time. Right now I’m literally about to go finish Shon Faye‘s book! I’ve just read her description of addiction and my head is fucking blown.

Two Black Boys in Paradise screens as part of the To Your Souls: Shorts from the UK & Ireland programme at BFI Flare on the 23, 26 and 30 March.