In what could be described as a short story applied to film, drag musician Lagoona Bloo (David Brumfield) ruminates on the journey that has brought them to this point in time. Lagoona Bloo is captured in the dressing room, discussing their early years as a child of immigration. Lagoona Bloo’s mother was Latin American, while the protagonist grew up in the United States. This cross of generation, race and queer issues led to some difficult conversations; some of them discussed with the parents, others discussed internally and privately.

Into The Bloo incorporates home videos, as well as dazzling music production numbers in order to highlight the change from fretful child to confident pop singer. The titular character is clearly processing the death of their father, making for some confessional insights into the artist’s inner workings. The songwriter reflects that their compositional process proved therapeutic. It helped them to better understand their parents’ perspective on societal norms. Some of the tracks, particularly funk highlight ‘Wings of Love’, are bolstered by the singer’s unwavering commitment to their craft.

15 fifteen minutes, the work packs a lot in. Some of the themes, particularly immigration, are not fully explored. Lagoona Bloo affects a Mexican voice when parroting the mother, but ultimately it’s the relationship with the Pater familias that seems to interest the filmmakers more. In one of the more alarming anecdotes, the eponymous hero says the father woke them up to put them under a lie detector test. “I know you’re letting people into the house,” was the guardian’s supposed rationale.

Clearly the trauma egged the artist on. It’s not uncommon for composers to let their past life guide their work, as is evident from John Lennon’s songcraft in One to One: John & Yoko (Kevin MacDonald, Sam Rice-Edwards, 2024). Lagoona Bloo’s artistry is interesting in that it has an added frisson, that of a drag artist searching for truth. What this will be has yet to be discovered, but the artist feels comfortable with their destination. They don’t have every element in place, but are committed to find it. This film is just the beginning of their crusade.

The talking heads give the finished work a gravitas, but there is an interesting colour palette. The stage and musical numbers are dotted by sepia: oceanic blues, hanging over the dancers. Into The Bloo utilises a kaleidoscopic design during the stage setpieces, making for more evocative viewing. It helps distract from the heavy emotional undertones: shorn of these bright scenes, and the work would be a much more dour experience.

But no matter the story, or the intensity of the emotion, the lead in question is never anything less than enjoyable company, making it a very pleasant 15 minutes to sit through. The piece works on two levels: both as a diary, and a musical form of expression. Creativity takes many forms, but it always needs courage to piece the finished work together. And this is very brave work.

Into the Bloo premiered at Out on Film: Atlanta’s LGBTQ Film Festival.