Kokomo City

As seems sadly predictable in a documentary about trans sex workers in America, Kokomo City begins and ends with stories of violence. But the opening anecdote is delivered with dry, raucous humor that seems tinged with a survivor's euphoria. It's a tone that continues through much of first-time director D. Smith's documentary about the lives of Black trans sex workers, where humor and pleasure are counterbalanced by a clear-eyed examination of their position in street life.

Importantly, she doesn't simply focus on four trans women – native New Yorkers Daniella Carter and Dominique Silver in Queens, and Georgia peaches Liyah Mitchell and Koka Da Doll – and lets them tell their own stories. They do so with gusto, charm, bathos, and insight into their lives on the periphery of Black communities. This is most specifically about the relationship between the Black community (most especially cis Black men) and Black trans sex workers, and all four are brutally honest about the perils and pleasures of their occupation.

However, one of the most surprisingly incisive conversations to camera comes from two cis men, rappers Inw Tarxan and Lexx Pharaoh, who discuss the inner conflicts/hypocrisy/self-loathing of men – especially Black men – who live on the DL. It's one thing to hear Liyah say that she's been paid for sex by the kind of guy you'd never guess would hire a trans sex worker. It's another to hear two guys who look like they live up to every rap cliche break down why these men need to just get over themselves. That it's then juxtaposed with a moment of beautifully shot intimacy between a cis male and a trans woman reinforces what's being lost in people's lives.

Yet violence is always on the fringes, not just at the beginning and in a heartbreaking coda. Smith presents the danger as the cumulative effect of being trans and Black and a sex worker in America. However, that's not all that Smith is talking about. In many ways, Kokomo City feels like a partner piece to Nick Broomfield and Sandi Sissel's groundbreaking 1982 documentary Chicken Ranch, about the legendary Nevada brothel. Both center on the sex workers' experiences from their own perspectives, and their ease with their own existence. While the role of economics is never understated (each of the four became a sex worker because they couldn't make ends meet, or pay for surgery, or make rent), Smith is really discussing the nature of what Daniella dubs Black womanness, and in the final shot audiences are exposed to what being a Black trans woman means – with the emphasis on exposure. Smith doesn't blanch at the sexual, either in conversation or visuals, but that's exactly the kind of earnestness the topic requires.