Trans people have been moved into the spotlight in the last decade, though not always by choice. Media, politicians, and celebrities have frequently framed trans people, and often the rights and freedoms of trans people, as the hot button topic, pushing us as an 'issue'. As such, it's become increasingly rare to see trans voices actually be given the chance to talk honestly and freely, as we're either forced to defend some small part of our existence, such as toilet access, against a panel of transphobes (purely for 'balance' of course), or we're simply not included at all. Edhi Alice, one of the films at this year's Queer East Festival, centres the experiences of two trans women in South Korea, allowing them to share their stories.
The documentary is really a film in two halves, with the beginning of the film focusing on Alice, a lighting director for Korean film, with the latter part of the film shifting to follow Edhi, a younger trans woman who's navigating her family life and her choices to go through with gender realignment surgery. Because of the structure of th Edhi Alice it's easy to forget that you're going to be following two people, and when the shift in focus comes it does create a slight tonal change that leaves the film feeling a bit disjointed, and more like two shorter films that have been stitched together.
'I'm Alice who is living in the present,' is one of the first things we hear when we meet Alice, a trans woman who's navigating life after coming out as trans. It's a small introduction, and one that doesn't seem to convey much at first glance, though I think that it manages to show the audience a lot about the woman we're going to spend the next hour with. Alice's comment about living in the present almost seems to be her wiping away a past that never felt right to her, yet unsure about her future as a trans woman, forcing her to only be able to live in the present. Alice's story seems to be one that's slightly sad. Over the course of the film Alice tells the audience about how she's been victimised in her work, losing jobs because bosses don't like trans people. She had a marriage that didn't work out, she lives alone in a small apartment, she dreams of being able to dance, and there's a heart breaking scene where she laments being excluded from women's spaces.
There seems to be a trend in documentaries about trans people, where our stories are depicted as either joyous or tragic. Films will either focus on the elation and euphoria that comes when a trans person is able to live freely as themselves, or it will show the tragedy that often comes with being trans in a world so hostile to us. Alice's story comes across as a balance of the two. She makes it clear that in many ways transitioning saved her life, made her so much happier than she was before having to pretend to be someone she's not. But there are quiet moments where you can also see the sadness and trauma that she carries with her.

More so than the second half of the film, Alice's story is one that highlights the tragedy of transphobia. We don't see her experience overt transphobia, there's no scene of her being thrown out of somewhere, of being abused, but you can see the pain of those moments with her in the way she falls back into herself when she's on a film crew in a women's bathhouse, thinking about the fact that despite being a woman she doesn't feel like she belongs there. She want's to dance, to be able to feel comfortable and free enough in her body to express joy in the simple act of dancing, but when she begins her lessons she's stiff, she's holding herself in tight, afraid to draw attention or stand out. These are moments that immediately stood out to me because they're things that I recognised well.
But this isn't to say that there's no joy to be found here, or that Alice is a tragic figure. As the documentary follows her she begins dance lessons, seeking to meet her dream she always saw as being impossible, of being able to put on a dance performance. Whilst she begins very shyly, and you can see that she feels out of place, as time goes on you begin to see a change in her as she becomes more confident and comfortable
I think a lot of trans people will relate with Alice quite a lot, we'll recognise the moments of joy and comfort she finds in getting to be herself, but we'll also recognise the fear and the pain. Unfortunately, there are a lot of trans people who carry trauma with them because of how we've been treated by society simply for being trans; especially those who transitioned older, or are more visibly gender non-conforming. There were times watching Alice where I simply wanted to reach out and give her a hug, to tell her that she wasn't alone, that despite the toughness of being trans there's still a lot of beauty in this world and a community that loves her, despite not having ever met her. Her story draws you in and I think it will probably make a lot of cisgender people watching the film question how tough life is for the trans community.
Edhi makes for quite a contrast to Alice in some regards, and where Alice comes across as introverted, Edhi is extroverted, where Alice seems somewhat alone and uncomfortable in her body, Edhi seems more relaxed and happy. It's a sharp contrast between the two, and there were a few times when the sudden shift in who we were following and the change in their attitudes made the split narrative structure feel somewhat a bit too jarring. It's perhaps a personal issue, but I can't help but feel that going back and forward between the two women and their experiences would have helped the film flow better.

Edhi is younger than Alice, and works for a local LGBTQ+ centre, where she counsels other queer and trans people, using her own experiences to help them navigate their world. We learn a little about her past, more than Alice it feels, and learn that she went through military service before coming out as trans, and about how she came to understand her gender identity through experiences in gay male spaces when she believed that perhaps that was also her own identity.
Compared to Alice, Edhi seems to have a little more of a stable familial life. Alice spoke little about her family, and when she did it came with the sense that they weren't really in her life anymore. Edhi, in contrast, sees both of her parents a lot, helping her father on his remote farm, and wanting to build a comfortable house for her and her mother to live together in, and she also has a very close relationship with her nephew, who she loves as if he was her son. Family seems to be a very important part of her life, and they seem to bring her a lot of happiness, even if her parents don't quite understand every aspect of her identity or her life as a trans woman.
There's a moment in the film when her father talks about her as if she's his son, using male pronouns to describe her, and there's a scene where Edhi is talking through her upcoming gender surgery with her mother, something that's been building for years for her, and her mother seems incredibly uncomfortable, asking her about regrets, and safety. The film seems to highlight a generational difference in how family react to someone being trans. Her parents are supportive, even if they occasionally say the wrong thing, and there are some parts where it's hard to tell if their comments are based on fear or discomfort; but they at least love their daughter and still have her in their lives. Her nephew, on the other hand, has no qualms about his aunt at all, and we hear how when she came out to him and told him about her transition he literally didn't really care much. We know children are so much better at accepting things than adults, and are much better at understanding than people give them credit, and that's demonstrated here.
A big part of Edhi's journey over the course of the film is focused on her upcoming gender realignment surgery, or bottom surgery. Edhi travels to Thailand for the procedure, and the film crew get to follow her as she readies herself for the operation, as well as through her recovery. We get to experience some intimate moments with her, seeing her deal with the worry that comes before surgery, as well as the physical and emotional pain of the recovery process. The film is respectful in not showing anything graphic or embarrassing for her, but it's still incredibly personal as we're there for her through dilation procedures, seeing the tears running down her face as her body processes the painful new sensations.

On the surface, Edhi Alice is a decent, if not slightly oddly structured look at the lives of two trans women in South Korea. It's a decent movie, one with very endearing and charming leads who you can't help but become invested in. However, looking at it with a step back, and as a trans person, there are some things that I'm a little unsure of; though I'm not sure if this might be baggage that I myself am bringing to the film. Alice seems to be framed as the more sad and lonely of the two women, whose life as a trans woman is harder, whilst Edhi seems to be the opposite. Alice is less conventionally feminine of the two, and there's a point in the film where she discusses the fact that she chose not to get facial feminisation surgery. I've seen some reviews of the film where people have used some more negative words to describe Alice, talking about how she doesn't 'pass' as much as Edhi, and I can't help but wonder if perhaps this was something that the film may have been going for. Is it trying to show that trans women who can better pass as cisgender and more conventionally feminine have an easier life, and if so, are they simply highlighting this as a common experience, or are they pushing the idea that trans people need to pass?
This somewhat ties into another thought that I had about the film, namely its large focus on surgery. Alice says that she has no interest in things such as facial feminisation surgery, but felt the need to have bottom surgery as soon as she could. She talks about how changing her genitalia made her feel more comfortable in herself, and more a woman. Similarly, Edhi's journey across the film seems to be her getting bottom surgery, her last big goal of her transition. The film seems to have shades of transmedicalism, where it could be seen as pushing the idea that surgery is the main goal for trans people, or that it's the thing that finally makes someone trans. Again, I don't know if this is intentional on their part, purely by chance, or me reading too much into it.
Edhi Alice is a lovely insight into the lives of two women who I'd have liked to have seen more of. I wanted to see more of Edhi's home life, of her work at the LGBTQ+ centre, and new outlook on life post surgery. I'd have also have liked to have seen if dance was something that Alice continued to pursue, and if she found ways of becoming more comfortable and happy in her life. Despite being over two hours long Edhi Alice also felt very light in places, and I can't help but feel some of the long sequences of silently following our two women could have been better spent on more meatier subjects or moments that gave us better insight. Whilst Edhi Alice is a great film in itself, I also feel that there are places where I'd have liked to have seen something a little different, but despite these flaws it offers a great look into the lives of two trans woman in South Korea.
Edhi Alice is playing as part of the Queer East Festival 2025. To find out more about Queer East click here.
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