How ‘Disclosure’ Director Sam Feder Brought His Trans Visibility Documentary to Life

In the last two weeks alone, J.K. Rowling penned a 3,600-word essay defending her anti-trans comments, two black trans women were killed, President Trump erased healthcare protections for trans patients, and the Supreme Court ruled that transgender workers are protected from employment discrimination. Now, adding to that list of ups and downs, is a definitive “up:” Sam Feder’s critically-acclaimed documentary Disclosure, which comes out on Netflix on Friday.

Executive produced by Orange Is the New Black star and trans activist Laverne Cox, Disclosure walks through the history of trans representation on screen, from D.W. Griffith’s 1914 film Judith of Bethulia up to Ryan Murphy’s Pose on FX. Trans activists and artists—like Lilly Wachowski, Yance Ford, Mj Rodriguez, Jamie Clayton, and Chaz Bono, to name a few—share their thoughts on trans representation throughout the years. Not everyone agrees on everything. For some, Hillary Swank in Boys Don’t Cry was a pivotal moment of positive representation, for others, it was traumatic and triggering.

For Feder, who is trans, that’s the point. “We were constantly talking about the nuance—how to love things and love them critically,” Feder said in a phone interview with Decider. At the same time, the filmmaker—who is 45 and also directed Kate Bornstein is a Queer & Pleasant Danger and Boy Am I—wants viewers to acknowledge damaging portrayals of trans people he showcases in Disclosure. “Let’s not pretend trans representation is new. Let’s not pat each other on the back for suddenly giving trans people a moment when, since the beginning of film, it’s been distorted and violent.”

Decider spoke with Feder about getting his film made, the complexity of cancel culture, and why he thinks Disclosure should be on J.K. Rowling’s watchlist. 

Decider: I wanted to start by acknowledging the recent Supreme Court decision, a surprise victory for transgender rights. What does this mean to you and your film, which is coming out just a few days after that historic decision?

Sam Feder: I’m deeply proud of the work my friend Chase Strangio did on this case. As Chase deeply knows as well, it’s very complicated. I certainly did not expect it to go this way, so that was a surprise. It felt good. It’s a symbolic victory, and symbols are so deeply for cultural ideologies. I also know that court rulings don’t stop discriminations. They address material inequality. They do provide some recourse to a select few, that often have resources at hand that many don’t. So it’s complicated. It’s complicated because it’s humiliating that it even had to be up for discussion. It’s complicated because we know murder is illegal, but people are dying on the streets. Black people, in particular—black trans women are being murdered without any justice. Again, it’s a symbolic victory, which I’m thrilled about. But it is complicated.

Of course. Let’s talk about the movie. Tell me how Disclosure began for you.

There are two films that really changed my relationship to media. One was The Celluloid Closet, which was about gay and lesbian representation in Hollywood; and the other was Ethnic Notions, which was about Black people’s representation in film and Hollywood.  I always wanted to see that history for trans people, with that sort of critique and analysis and nuance. Then, fast-forward to 2014 when trans visibility was increasing. Mainstream society was talking about trans people more than ever before. I wanted to give trans and non-trans people alike more context to understand these public changes in our culture and how we got to this point of this visibility. I wanted to foreground that we couldn’t lose sight of the fact that visibility in itself is not the goal. That it is a means to an end. I really felt that there was more to the story than what the public was seeing and talking about, and I wanted to tell that story.

At what point did Laverne Cox come on board as an EP?

I started the research in the summer of 2015, and about two years later I was invited to give a presentation at the Outfest Film Festival, which is a queer film festival here in Los Angeles. I’m onstage giving my presentation, and at some point, I look up towards where my producer was sitting. Right in front of her was this woman who looked very familiar. She was wearing these huge, reflective sunglasses — clearly trying to be discrete, but I immediately knew it was Laverne. I had probably just mentioned her name seconds before, so I really tried to keep my cool!  But I kept noticing that she was really engaged, she was nodding along with things I was saying. I was really excited. I had always hoped to at least interview her for the project, but I wasn’t really sure how I would gain her trust. I know she’s very selective about what project she’ll work on. She’s an incredible activist and historian. After the presentation, we ended up chatting. She said she had always wanted to make a film like this, and asked how she could help. It was incredible. 

Walk me through getting the film to Sundance, and then Netflix.

When I got the phone call about getting into Sundance, I got the full-body chills. I just giggled for probably 15 minutes. Sundance is complicated, as a filmmaker, to have these external goals that you have no control over. But it felt really exciting and validating. At our premiere, Kim Yutani—who I have so much respect for—she introduced the film and said it was one of the highlights of her career. And then to have a standing ovation for the seven minutes of credits we had? I was on cloud nine. We had a whole tour planned. We were going to go to Copenhagen for the CPH Documentary Film Festival, then Thessaloniki in Greece, London, for BFI Flare. We were programmed at the Tribeca Film Festival in New York City, my home town. Then the pandemic came along and every screening after Sundance was canceled. It’s such a community film, so it was a big, big loss. A lot of grief around that. For many months, we really weren’t sure where we were going to land. We always had our eye on Netflix for the perfect home, not only because of Laverne’s relationship with Netflix but also because we know they value a lot of the conversations that we have in Disclosure. So when they offered to buy the film and to have it be a Netflix Original, I was so pleased and honored and grateful.

I read that any non-trans crew member who was hired on Disclosure also had to agree to train a trans person trying to make it in filmmaking. Can you say more about that?

Yes, that is my favorite topic to talk about! We prioritized hiring trans people. We did a national search. When we could not hire a trans person for a key role on set, the non-trans person would mentor a trans fellow. We had about a dozen different fellows on set. It was an incredible experience, turning around whenever there was a break, and seeing the relationships that were formed—the bonds and the networking and the connections. Many of our fellows have already gone on to release their own films, or scripts, or have been cast in television shows. At the same time, the mentors were deeply changed. One of our mentors was this woman named Dessie [Coale], who was our gaffer. She was so moved by the film and the team and the mentorship, that she went back to her tech union—IATSE, the largest tech union in the world—and she implemented the first trans sensitivity training.  The domino effect of the positive impact that our mentorships had is incredible. We are a small, indie documentary project and we were able to prioritize hiring trans people. Any project that has studio-backing has no excuse not to follow this model, if they say that they’re trying to do things right.

In the film, Laverne Cox makes an interesting point about using cancel culture as an excuse not to discuss trans issues. How useful do you think “cancel culture” is to social movements?

I deeply believe in holding people accountable, and doing it in the most inclusive and loving way possible, whether they deserve it or not. [Laughs] The second film I made was about this woman named Kate Bornstein. She’s an author and an activist and a performer that I was familiar with, but she had written an article that deeply moved me because she was able to hold accountable this film that was out of the time, that was incredibly transphobic. The community had a big uproar about it. There’s a lot of conversations and a lot of people were calling for it to be censored and banned. She was really able to hold the complexity in a really loving and beautiful way. I think Laverne does that too. That’s really something that I hope my work can capture and replicate. I think it also is very much an abolitionist framework. Crime and punishment is not a positive way to change consciousness and ideologies.

One of the most emotional scenes in Disclosure is your interview with Jen Richards about her appearance on Caitlyn Jenner’s I Am Cait, and specifically how hard it was for her to see father celebrating his transgender child. How did that happen?

I’ve known Jen for quite some time. This project is really important to her and the topic is very dear to her. She thinks about these things in really complex ways. We were constantly talking about the nuance, and how to love things and love them critically. Most things have positive and negative and things in between. Obviously, that is not the way mainstream media likes to frame things. We were talking about the show, and she had a complicated relationship with it. She also understood the public conversations that many trans people were having about their feelings about Caitlyn Jenner’s politics and her privilege. We were just really digging into her experience on the show, but I had never heard Jen talk about that scene before. Despite her critique of the show itself, she did still have this life-changing experience. It was incredibly moving. I think we stopped for a few minutes after she told that story, because we were just so overwhelmed. We just had to sit in that truth.

Another controversial title when it comes to trans representation is Transparent. How did you decide to approach that topic?

Transparent is important, and for many reasons that we talk about, we couldn’t leave it out of the story. I simultaneously couldn’t leave the truth of the misconduct out of the story, because it is just important to the history. The way the mainstream treated Trace [Lysette, who accused Transparent star Jeffrey Tambor of sexual misconduct]—they treated her like she wasn’t believable. Jeffrey wasn’t really held accountable until non-trans women spoke up about his misconduct. So the situation reflected everything we’re talking about in Disclosure. And Transparent did some incredible things in the industry and for a handful of trans people. But it’s important to know that around all of the current television shows and films that are lauded, there were decades and decades of trans activists that have made it possible for people in the industry to tell these stories. I think that’s often lost, especially when non-trans people are given awards and celebrated without a single trans person in the room.

Last week, the trans community was hurt by J.K. Rowling tweeting and writing this anti-trans activism essay. In your opinion, how damaging were J.K. Rowling’s words?

I think Disclosure could really enlighten J.K. and the folks who’ve rallied behind her, or she has decided to lead. I think it could really enlighten folks to the roots of their patriarchal fantasies. That’s really all I have to say about J.K.

You’ve studied all these narrative TV shows and movies that feature trans people. Would you ever consider writing and directing one yourself?

I would. Certainly. I’ve thought about that a lot. What would feel good? What do I want to say? What would I want to create? I’ve been in conversations with different people about scripted work. Yes, absolutely. I’ve got a few projects in the works that I can’t quite speak about publicly yet. There is a documentary that I want to make about Lou Sullivan—he’s credited for starting an international trans male community. He was very influential. Someone who, I feel, more people should know about. There’s also a docuseries to be made with all the material that didn’t make it into Disclosure, and that’s also something we’re having conversations about. Those are two things I can share.

Finally, it’s worth noting that Disclosure is not just a movie for white trans folks. Many black trans voices are included in the film. Tell me about what you did to make sure that that was the case.

Disclosure was made with a new world in mind, that really connects deeply to this moment. The social uprising that has spread to every state in our country is about how a community has systemically been oppressed by those in power, and with more privilege. Trans people — especially black and brown trans people — know this experience so intimately. Disclosure underscores how patriarchy, white supremacy, settler colonialism, and capitalism thoroughly oppress our most marginalized. The intersections can’t be pulled apart.

Watch Disclosure on Netflix