Director: Catherine Donaldson
Release Year: 2010
Release Year: 2010
Would you enter a beauty pageant if it meant you might finally be safe? Would you put on makeup and a sash not for glamour or fame, but to protect yourself from sexual abuse, police brutality, and being banished by your own family? In Catherine Donaldson’s poignant and courageous documentary Beauty and Brains, this is exactly the question posed, and lived, by Nepal’s third-gender community.
In a society where third-gender individuals are expected to choose between blessing newlyweds, begging in the streets, or selling their bodies to survive, the idea of participating in a beauty contest may sound like an indulgence. But Beauty and Brains reveals something far more radical: a community reclaiming their humanity and dignity through performance, activism, and visibility.
At its heart, the film is a gripping portrait of bravery, of individuals risking everything they have left to ensure their abuse is no longer normalized.
Nepal is a country undergoing seismic shifts, political, cultural, and social. In the wake of civil unrest and a slow-moving effort to rewrite the nation’s constitution, the voices of marginalized groups have often been sidelined. Among the most vulnerable are the third-gender people, a term in South Asia often used to describe individuals whose gender identity does not conform to the binary categories of male or female. In Nepal, to be third-gender is to be seen as unnatural, disposable, and dangerous.
Many third-gender people are driven from their homes as children. Denied education and family support, they are left to navigate a hostile society with few resources. Abuse by the police, sexual violence, and blackmail are routine. And for many, survival means living on the fringes, in brothels, on sidewalks, or at religious ceremonies, offering blessings for spare change.
Against this stark backdrop, Beauty and Brains introduces us to a bold idea: a beauty pageant for Nepal’s third-gender community. Organized by Sunil Pant, the country’s first openly gay Member of Parliament and a pioneering activist, and the Blue Diamond Society, Nepal’s leading LGBTQ+ rights organization, the contest is far more than glitter and glamour. It is a lifeline.
Here, contestants aren’t just judged on appearance. They are evaluated on their intelligence, creativity, talent, and their ability to advocate for change. They walk the runway not just in heels, but with hope. They perform not just to win a crown, but to demand recognition as natural human beings who deserve safety, respect, and legal rights.
Through Donaldson’s lens, we witness contestants rehearsing with ferocious determination. We see the mix of fear and pride on their faces as they speak to the media, challenge norms, and tell their stories to a nation that has long ignored them. For many, this is the first time they are being seen and heard on their own terms.
But visibility comes at a cost. Several contestants face ridicule, rejection from their families, and threats from community leaders. Some lose jobs. Others are disowned. One young woman breaks down on camera, saying she hopes her mother will forgive her for appearing in the contest. Another quietly admits that even if she wins, she may have nowhere to go after the pageant.
And yet, they persist. Because in Nepal, being silent has not protected them from violence. Speaking out might finally open a door.
The bravery of these contestants is echoed in Donaldson’s filmmaking. She doesn’t flinch from showing the rawness of her subjects’ lives, nor does she condescend. Instead, she allows the contestants to guide the narrative, with moments of unfiltered joy and heartbreak. Her camera lingers not on spectacle, but on quiet determination.
As Nepal's constitution hangs in the balance, the pageant becomes more than symbolic. It is a strategic act of protest. And it works. As awareness spreads, conversations begin, about gender, human rights, and who deserves a place in the future Nepal is building.
In one of the film’s most powerful scenes, a contestant says, “This isn’t about being pretty. It’s about being seen.” That message reverberates far beyond the pageant stage. It’s a reminder that for many marginalized people, beauty is not a luxury, it’s a form of resistance.
Beauty and Brains forces the viewer to confront a searing moral question: What would you risk to be treated as fully human? What would you do to prevent rape and abuse being a part of your everyday life? For the third-gender individuals of Nepal, the answer is clear. They would walk into the spotlight, crown themselves, and tell the world they are not invisible anymore.
Catherine Donaldson’s documentary doesn’t offer easy solutions. But it does offer hope. Hope that one stage, one voice, and one act of collective defiance can ripple out into a movement. And perhaps, in that shimmer of a sequined dress or the shimmer in a hopeful eye, we begin to see the future of justice taking shape.
via: youtube
Image credits:YouTube
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