Until last year, Pushpa Thing Lama worked at an LGBTQ advocacy organization in a small western Nepal town, her work known only to a handful of people in the queer community. Today, she is one of the stars of an award-winning film that has become a landmark for Nepalese cinema, and queer Nepalis, on a global stage.
In May, Elephants in the Fog marked a first for the country’s film industry by winning the Un Certain Regard Jury Prize at the Cannes Film Festival. The award was not only a rare win for Nepali cinema but also a defining moment for the country’s growing queer cinema scene and the kinnar community, whose lives have long been pushed to the margins and are now being celebrated on one of the world’s most prominent cultural stages.
“This is not just a movie, this is our life,” Lama, a transgender actor, told Foreign Policy. “It has many similarities with our struggles—the prejudice we face from our families and society and the negative perception toward our community. This film isn’t fiction but a reflection of our lives.”
Kinnars and hijras are a traditionally third gender community in South Asia, though not all transgender, non-binary, and intersex people in the region identify as kinnar. In Nepal, some embrace “kinnar” as a cultural identity, while others prefer transgender or third gender. Kinnars have their roots in Hindu mythology—described in epics such as the Mahabharata and Ramayana—and are seen as celestial figures divinely associated with the arts and culture. They are traditionally invited to bless weddings and births, especially in India and Nepal’s southern regions bordering India, despite continuing to face widespread stigma and discrimination.
Elephants in the Fog, too, showcases the ceremonial aspect of kinnar life, though the filmmakers say it focuses less on mysticism and more on personal emotions, something often missing from Nepali films that portray queer characters. The film is anchored around the bond between a matriarch and her adopted daughters—all played by transgender actors—tracing the tensions between relationships, responsibilities, desire, and duty often invisible to outsiders. (The kinnar community is traditionally tied to fictive kinship, where a senior member becomes a symbolic mother, creating a chosen family that provides care and support to those who are ostracized.)
Abinash Bikram Shah, writer and director of Elephants in the Fog, said he was inspired to make the film after coming across videos of the kinnar community on TikTok during the COVID-19 lockdowns. Despite persistent transphobic comments and online trolling, the creators continued sharing their content, which he found “encouraging and courageous.” Further research led Shah to cast actors from within the community, which allowed them to help shape the script and take greater ownership of their story, which lends the film a deeper sense of authenticity.
“They have brought their history, instincts, and collective resilience to the film,” Shah told Foreign Policy. “So, I wasn’t capturing acting on camera—it was capturing the truth. I don’t see this as a queer movie, but a movie with a family dynamic between a mother and her daughters.”
A still from Pooja, Sir (2024).Aadi Films/Baasuri Films/Tannhauser Gate
The portrayal of queer characters in Nepali cinema—even when depicted as openly gay or transgender—has historically fallen short of authenticity, often leaving the community misunderstood and misrepresented. Effeminate male characters or gender non-conforming men cross-dressing—especially in movies like the Ae Mero Hajur 2 and numerous TV series—have mostly been used for comic relief, reinforcing stereotypes and shaping distorted perceptions about the LGBTQ community.
But a breakthrough came in 2013 with Soongava: Dance of the Orchids, which presented a lesbian love story and is regarded as Nepal’s first mainstream queer movie. Its release came just two years after Nepal made global headlines for hosting its first symbolic same-sex wedding—between two Americans—at a Hindu temple near the capital, Kathmandu.
The country’s landmark 2007 Supreme Court ruling recognizing sexual and gender minorities as equal citizens helped the queer community become more vocal and visible across Nepal’s social and cultural landscape. Even before Soongava brought the issues to wider attention, Shah had already brought queer characters to the screen in critically acclaimed films such as Sarir (2011) and Highway (2012).
Some say the results have been mixed. Pragyan Thapa Ghimire, founding editor of The Nepali Cinematheque, said that while Soongava is “patchy in its depth, integrity, and sensitivity in terms of its queer representation,” movies released since then have attempted more accurate and nuanced portrayals. He added that queerness is diverse and fluid, and “extremely little of that has been reflected in Nepali cinema up to now.”
However, efforts have continued, with mainstream filmmakers increasingly emboldened to explore queer stories and characters, indicating a growing appetite for cinema that engages with diverse themes and representations. In 2023, Ek Bhagavad Ra Ek Geeta featured gender fluid and transgender characters, while Gunyo Cholo: The Dress, released in 2025, was the coming-of-age story of a transgender woman. Pooja, Sir introduced audiences to a lesbian police officer ini 2024.
“Ek Bhagavad Ra Ek Geeta and Gunyo Cholo are very clear and intentional exercises in bringing awareness and generating empathy around queer issues,” Thapa Ghimire told Foreign Policy. “Pooja, Sir presents a less dramatic, more subtle take on queerness by showing a protagonist who is clearly queer but has a lot more to them than that. This kind of representation, which resists making a spectacle or a moral debate out of queerness, plays to constructing an important, normalizing affect around it.”
But there are looming questions whether audiences are receptive to such movies, and if they can guarantee box-office returns. Thapa Ghimire is unsure about audience readiness but said that queer-themed films should nonetheless be encouraged and supported, as they have the potential to shift social perceptions over time. Shah added that when queer stories are told within mainstream commercial cinema, featuring well-known filmmakers and actors, they can help familiarize wider audiences with LGBTQ characters and the challenges they face, while also expanding their visibility.
“But visibility without depth means nothing,” Shah said. “We shouldn’t just see them from the lens of sympathy and pity and characterize them in such roles, or should we reduce those characters into stereotypes. We should see them as individuals, we need to empathize with them and humanize them for the audiences to see and feel.”
Lama at the 79th annual Cannes Film Festival at the Palais des Festivals in Cannes, France, on May 20.Stephane Cardinale-Corbis/Getty Images
Over the years, throngs of well-wishers have gathered outside Kathmandu’s airport to welcome home athletes, mountaineers, and other national heroes, draping them with marigold garlands and khata—the traditional Buddhist ceremonial scarves—to celebrate their achievements. But the Elephant in the Fog team received an unprecedented homecoming for filmmakers, as government ministers, alongside crowds, joined to celebrate the film’s historic accomplishment at the airport.
Reflecting on the journey that led to that moment, Lama said that none of the film’s transgender cast members had expected such recognition after years of living on society’s margins. For many, the opportunity to showcase their talent and to find meaningful work had already exceeded their expectations.
Despite equal rights being granted to LGBTQ citizens through various routes, discrimination still persists in Nepal. A 2023 UN Women report found that only a few people have been able to obtain a citizenship certificate that accurately reflects their gender identity and expression, and LGBTQ individuals struggle to access basic services, including healthcare, education, and employment. This is particularly acute for transgender women and those who identify as third gender, since they tend to be more visible than other sexual minorities.
“In Nepal, there are shifts in perception, but there’s still a significant gap that needs to be closed,” said Madhurima Bhadra, an expert on gender equality, disability, and social inclusion. “Though there are many positive changes at the governance and policy levels, implementation and inclusion, especially with the intention of not leaving anyone behind, is yet to be achieved.”
According to Lama, limited job opportunities remain one of the transgender community’s persistent struggles, adding that many are turned away from employment or discouraged from seeking it altogether, with employers preferring men or women. Most queer-themed movies have also only cast non-queer actors. But the success of Elephants in the Fog, Lama hopes, could create new avenues for more transgender artists and performers in the industry.
“I completely support the push for more trans actors in general, [not just for] authenticity, but they often already have very limited options,” Thapa Ghimire said. “Elephants in the Fog will be important and influential on the strength of its achievement at Cannes. With that being said, I can’t say exactly how and to what degree.”
As the movie readies for its Nepali release in September and other international festival runs—including in the United States—it carries hope of a community. But for many actors like Lama, the spotlight is fleeting, and what comes after the applause and awards matters more. For them, the fog, in many ways, has yet to lift.
“I don’t know what I’ll do after this,” Lama said. “I admire the filmmakers for their courage in making this movie and giving us an opportunity. But one film isn’t enough. We need more opportunities, and want to live with equal rights and dignity just like anyone else.”
