Club Quarantine

Aurora Brachman’s 7-minute documentary Club Quarantine captures the rise of the Toronto-based virtual queer dance party that emerged during Canada’s first COVID-19 lockdown. “Club Quarantine”, the virtual gay club initiative, was founded by recording artist Ceréna Sierra, DJ Casey MQ, comedian Brad Allen, and digital creative Mingus New. It began to host parties via Zoom in March 2020, when full disclosure of all non-essential businesses was recommended by the Ontario provincial government. Starting modestly with a number of 12 attendees, “Club Quarantine” quickly escalated to a global phenomenon, with later events featuring popular musical artists, such as Charli XCX, Rebecca Black, and Lady Gaga, and often saw 1,000 attendees, until June 2020. Brachman, a California-based filmmaker and participant herself, captures this digital clubbing phenomenon with insider’s intimacy. Her short film Club Quarantine, released through New York Times Op-Docs (a series of independently produced short documentaries from emerging filmmakers), was cast by privately messaging partygoers through Zoom chat. The footage is captured through screen-recording offing o the party’s diverse happenings: some dressed in elaborate makeup and costumes, dancing hypnotically alone; some cook, clean, nap, or put their children to bed. There are also older people, people with disabilities, and even families sitting down to dinner.

Historically, nightclubs have served as crucial spaces for queer safety and queer expression (seen in underground ballroom and drag scenes, for example). The forced physical closure of nightlife venues during the COVID-19 lockdown necessitated a new kind of online improvisation. By simply juxtaposing various party footage together, occasionally accompanied by chat box messages between individuals, Brachman’s lens captures the valuable self-expression that blossoms during virtuality. A young participant named Dean Campbell types into the chat: “i’m 17 and it’s just like… wow. In the regular world you deal with so much BS every day” (03:32–03:37), articulating about the escapism it offers. In another moment, as a medical worker prepares to leave the Zoom call and head to work, other users cheer him on in the chat: “STETHOSCOPE DADDY” and “WE APPRECIATE YOU BABYYY” 6:40–06:54). These playful, affectionate exchanges reflect the community’s resilience and support during a time of global crisis. By showcasing people of different ages, races, and genders coming together in this improvised digital venue, Brachman’s documentary highlights how queer identity, digital community, and pandemic survival intersected in inventive and meaningful ways.