Interview conducted by Alaisdair Leith & Adam Ross
When Lesbian Space Princess premiered at the Berlin International Film Festival in the Panorama section, directors Emma Hough Hobbs and Leela Varghese were simply thrilled to be there. Walking into the awards ceremony, Hobbs even dismissed the possibility of a win. “In the taxi, I said to Leela, ‘We don’t need to write a speech. We haven’t made an award-winning film,’” she recalls. Moments later, the pair were hoisted onto the stage to collect the Teddy Award for Best Queer Film, beating out some of the biggest titles in the festival.
“It was surreal,” Hobbs says. “We were nominated against films that were also eligible for the Golden Bear. And somehow, we won.”
But the recognition wasn’t just about trophies. The response in Berlin affirmed what the filmmakers had sensed at their hometown preview in Adelaide—that audiences were hungry for this kind of queer, joyful, unapologetically anarchic story. “We came second in the Panorama Audience Award too,” Hobbs adds, still sounding amazed. “That blew my mind because we didn’t even vote for ourselves, and we had hardly anyone there. To feel that energy in a room of 800 queer people, all connecting with the film—it was unforgettable.”
Alaisdair Leith & Adam Ross sat down with joint directors Emma Hough Hobbs and Leela Varghese to talk about the success of the film so far leading up to its wide release in Australian cinemas this week.
A Shower Epiphany Becomes a Film
The spark for Lesbian Space Princess came out of nowhere. “It started with the Film Lab: New Voices initiative run by the SAFC,” Hobbs explains. The program asked participants to come up with a low-budget feature. “Animation gave us the freedom to think bigger without the costs of live-action.”
But the title itself was pure inspiration. “I was in the shower when it came to me,” Hobbs laughs. “I came running out, half-naked, yelling, ‘Leela! I’ve got it—Lesbian Space Princess!’” Varghese was baffled at first, but soon the words crystallised into a fully-fledged world.
As the project took shape, Hobbs drew on her past as a comic artist to establish the film’s bold aesthetic. “The style is adapted from the way I used to draw at uni,” she says. “It’s cartoony, perfect for low-budget animation, and it gave us this big, colourful galaxy to play with.”
Bringing the Galaxy to Life
The story follows Saira (Shabana Azeez), a sheltered princess forced into adventure when her punk-rock ex-girlfriend Kiki (Bernie Van Tiel) is kidnapped by the hilariously awful Straight White Maliens (voiced by the Aunty Donna trio). Along the way, Saira is joined by Willow (Gemma Chua-Tran), while her spaceship itself becomes a character, voiced with dry wit by Richard Roxburgh.
The casting was key. “We always wanted the film to be led by the actors,” Hobbs says. “We recorded performances first, gave them space to improvise, and then built the animation around their voices. That’s how you get the human touch.”
This approach paid dividends with the Aunty Donna boys, who voiced the Maliens. “They weren’t written for them originally,” Hobbs admits. “But once they came on board, we rewrote the roles to suit their rhythm as a trio.”
Recording them together in the same room for a single, sweltering session proved unforgettable. “It was like a hotbox in there,” Varghese laughs. “They were sweating buckets, but they never stopped giving their best. They’re the nicest boys in comedy, and they just went for it.”
A Visual Style with Personality
If Varghese brought the comedic timing, Hobbs gave Lesbian Space Princess its singular look. With thick blue outlines and expressive character designs, the film feels instantly recognisable. “I grew up only watching animation,” she says, citing Pendleton Ward (Adventure Time), Jhonen Vasquez (Invader Zim), and anime studio CLAMP among her influences.
“It’s not just storytelling—it’s artistry. You’re showing the world what you can create visually while also telling a narrative.”
For Varghese, the collaboration was electric. “That’s the joy of working with an animator like Emma,” she says. “The whole look of the film is her voice. It feels personal and handcrafted, which makes the comedy and heart land even stronger.”
The State of Adult Animation in Australia
Adult animation is still rare in the Australian feature landscape, but momentum is growing. Last year brought Memoir of a Snail, and Lesbian Space Princess continues that trajectory. “We hope our film proves there’s an audience for this,” Varghese says.
Hobbs points out the challenges: “Australia has incredible animators, but most end up working on other people’s projects. Financing here is very business-driven, and artists don’t always know how to bridge that gap. I was lucky because I’ve always been part businessperson, part animator. That’s what made this possible.”
The pair are optimistic, though. “We’ve seen the appetite,” Hobbs insists. “If Australians show up in cinemas, it makes the future brighter. There are other animators developing incredible adult projects right now. Hopefully this is just the beginning.”
A Film That Belongs to Its Audience
Perhaps the most striking thing about Lesbian Space Princess is the joy it inspires. “Every festival screening, we’ve seen the same reaction—rooms full of queer people laughing, crying, cheering,” Varghese reflects. “It’s been overwhelming.”
For Hobbs, it validates years of persistence. “Animation is such a powerful medium. To see queer audiences embrace it this way makes me believe in the future of Australian animation more than ever.”
As Lesbian Space Princess heads into general release, Hobbs and Varghese hope the film does more than entertain. They want it to embolden others to take creative risks, to merge artistry with storytelling, and to trust that audiences will come along for the ride.
“There was the Australian industry before Lesbian Space Princess,” Hobbs smiles. “And now there’s everything after.”
👉 Lesbian Space Princess opens in Australian cinemas this month.
