Uchronia review, experimental feature by Fil Ieropoulos

Queer history through the ghost of Arthur Rimbaud

There is something to be said for making a statement through the medium of film, much less with an overtly aggressive approach that leaves absolutely no question whatsoever in the viewers’ minds as to what that message is. Now, it is also an art, at least for this critic, for a filmmaker to possess such a blatant agenda-driven aim and yet still not come across as excessively preachy or too forceful, instead delivering what manifests into hard-hitting, uncompromising, provocative cinematic anarchy that simply burns into your consciousness like a red-hot poker. This can be the core of indie film, and it is alive.

So when it comes to the new feature film from director/producer/editor Fil Ieropoulos and writer Foivos Dousos, which is also part of the 2026 Berlin International Film Festival, with a sold-out screening on February 17 and a follow-up screening on February 21, there are utterly no doubts about the intent to evoke reaction from its audience while also acting as a pseudo-documentary drama centered on the outspoken French poet Arthur Rimbaud.

Very astutely echoing the eccentricity of the filmmaker behind it, the effort’s narrative follows Rimbaud’s ghost as he revisits queer history and the stormy plights of the LGBTQ+ community with unflinching, jarring, and quirky resolve.

It is experimental cinema at its apex, choosing a decidedly unconventional path to display and share deeply candid, sometimes unnerving, other times inspired, and at times outrageous realities about the events and people who lived through, rose up, unashamedly spoke out, and rallied to the gay cause, never wavering or faltering, even to the point of harm or death. It’s such a raw exhibition of pride and prejudice that no matter what your personal beliefs are about this orientation and/or lifestyle, you will be impacted, even shocked, by all that’s conveyed in surreal, haunting, enlightening glory.

Tackling “appearances” by such “cultural insurgents” for the gay community as Louise Michel (Flomaria Papadaki), Emma Goldman (Rea Wallden), Trotsky 2.0 (Marisha Triantafyllidou), David Wojnarowicz (Alexander Voulgaris), Guy Hocquenghem (Christos Adrianopoulos), Marsha P. Johnson (Amani), and other assorted characters who encompass a wealth of societal and volatile perspectives that so adeptly portray gay persecution, total perseverance, and unyielding fidelity to their identity, the film’s magnificent utilization of images, archival footage, and archival recordings deftly cements the kaleidoscopic range of themes and objectives it delivers with searing authenticity.

Add to this the foundational look into the life of Rimbaud with uniquely artistic and stirring intensity, his emotional state fluctuating with every reminder of what the queer community has endured through the ages, his grander, discontented spirit both reveling and reviled by the journey and revelations. Thematic forays about legacy, the abuse of governmental powers, truth being suppressed, the world’s two-faced outlook, Fascism, repression, futurism’s part, patriotism vs. nationalism, displacement, censorship, and more are all put in our faces with that same magnitude of totally defiant fervor.

But here, it works. I mean it really works, achieving it with the style, boldness, and decisiveness that leaves you breathless, overwhelmed, stunned, mystified, and, dare I say, curious with everything you have just absorbed by the film’s strangely affecting finale that brings things full circle.

Given the film’s part drama, part documentary format, clocking in at 97 minutes long, one could remain tempted to think the project would not necessarily hold your attention. That is the farthest thing from fact, as I admittedly found myself completely enraptured by it, even when certain moments came along that were just a little uncomfortable for me.

All the actors mentioned above play their parts with a sincere level of unabashed poise and verity, immersing you fully into the world Rimbaud’s ghost is inhabiting, surrounding you with an unavoidably lingering, tangibly unsettling atmosphere of astonishment and, really, disbelief about what social atrocities we as human beings can perpetrate upon one another. But it is also the sheer, audacious, palpable air of rebellion found at this film’s core that you truly cannot just “push aside” or dismiss offhandedly, once more regardless of what your stance is on the gay community. This feels like a war, and the film really depicts it as such, but with excellently portrayed, dishearteningly accurate validity.

As previously mentioned, we all may not agree about orientations and alternative lifestyles. But when hatred, anger, and misguided bigotry enter, it manifests into the stifling of art, freedom of expression, and an assault on an already marginalized “class” of people. What does that say about us as humans sharing this world together?

Our often faulty “logic” and justifications cause disconnection from what it even is to embrace our personal identity and to find the means to disagree without the danger of killing each other in the process, both figuratively and literally.

“Uchronia,” which translates to the notion of “utopia,” is a film that genuinely needs to be experienced and is unequivocally one of, if not the most, forthrightly unreserved, relentlessly unshakable explorations and expositions on the gay community I have ever seen personally. Its purposefully incendiary attitude and execution demands notice, deserves it, and does indeed embody the fearless mind and objectives of a filmmaker with a definitive declaration to make to the world. Now, it will just be up to audiences to listen.

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