Jim Queen (and the Quest for Chloroqueer) is a laugh-a-minute riot where the jokes come hard, come fast, and come often. And yes, the pun is totally intended. Bobbypills' adult animated feature debut is all gay, all the time, and it is so, so funny. Catching this at the Fantasia Film Festival was an absolute trip and the crowd energy perfectly matched the madness on screen.
Jim Parfait is the pinnacle of the Paris gay community—envied, desired, and fiercely influential. Everything changes when "Heterosis," a wild new STI that turns gay men straight, hits local clubs and gyms. As infected men trade muscle mass for dad bods and sports obsessions, Jim catches the virus and watches his status crumble as quickly as his ab muscles, one by one. His followers vanish instantly, leaving only one loyal fan: Lucien.
Lucien hides away in a satin-lined secret closet packed with Jim Parfait memorabilia and unused
adult toys. The room directly references queer-coded The Little Mermaid, framing the space exactly like Ariel's secret grotto. Here, Lucien sings his "closet anthem"—a sensitive parody of "Part of Your World"—while admiring his staggering array of personal pleasure devices.
Lucien’s inhibition to joining Jim's lifestyle is fuelled by his mother, France's homophobic Minister of Health, who secretly engineered the "Heterosis" pandemic using Lucien's own childhood blood. To stop her from unleashing the virus globally, Jim teams up with Lucien to trek through Paris's diverse queer subcultures in search of a rogue physician, Dr. Ragoult. The doctor promises Jim the cure "Chloroqueer" in exchange for Lucien, whose prostate is essential to synthesizing it. However, this requires a terrifying, invasive medical procedure that Jim initially hides from Lucien as they race against time.
The story exposes the hypocrisy of a mother who prioritizes political respectability over her son's humanity, weaponizing silence to suppress his identity for the sake of her own social ambitions. But the film not only looks out at what is adverse to the gay community from the outside. It also uses this chaos and energy to critique the exclusive, highly categorized gay communities in Paris, framing these insular politics as another obstacle to LGBTQIA+ freedom.
At its core, Jim Queen asks a question that matters to everyone, queer or not: What matters most to Jim? Getting the cure and regaining his massive following on his socials, or the unconditional love of Lucien? Jim must ultimately choose between the hollow high of social media clout and real connection.
The animation is clean, showing off cartoony character designs with a distinct Rick & Morty vibe, especially when it comes to Lucien. Matching that chaotic visual energy is a voice cast that hits every comedic mark. Alex Ramirès plays Jim “perfectly”, tracking his panic-filled spiral from elite clout-chaser to desperate outcast. Jérémy Gillet grounds the madness, bringing a vulnerable charm to Lucien’s "closet anthem." But Philippe Katerine steals the show, voicing Lucien's talking prostate with a bizarre wisdom that handles the heaviest comedic lifting in the entire movie.
The soundtrack is terrific. Composed by the French musical duo Kirosen (Mathieu Rosenzweig and Benjamin Nakache) it pumps the film full of techno, house, and club dance beats. There are some instrumental bangers in there that you will want to add to your workout playlist.
I am a sports-obsessed ally who wants to procreate, but Jim Queen completely won me over. Yet, the real magic of the film is who it truly represents. This is a movie for the twinks, bears, gym queens, drag queens, and pups who shared our Fantasia screening. It delivers much-needed, hilarious representation in the adult animation landscape. Queer film festivals and allied film festivals alike should be scrambling to include this absolute gem in their lineups. It is crude, funny, outrageous, evocative, and deeply provoking.
Beneath the talking prostates and techno beats, Jim Queen has a distinct heart and a sharp bite. It mocks clout-chasers, exposes hypocrites, and gives the queer community loud, messy, and funny representation. Allied and queer film festivals should lock this project into their lineups. It is crude, provocative, and a total riot.