Seeing Things: an Interview with Sami Landri

In the history of humanity’s relationship to its tools, right next to the discovery and militarization of nuclear energy, there may be no greater technological betrayal than the modern suggested content algorithm. It is seemingly a step further from the suggested content of the days of yore based on what you consciously clicked on and engaged with. Something changed. Now the content you are served is based on more unconscious data: what you have absently stared at, gazed at for a second longer than usual. This is what fires up the machine to hand you something that scratches your deeper, more hidden desires. 

Looking on to any “for you” page today has become an act of self-heroics: of staring the abyss of your true desire in the face and determining what that says about you. Oftentimes this can be a shameful thing that might lead us to outright deny the percipience of the machine: to state it has misstepped in trying to understand us. That the machine lacks the nuance to truly grasp human behavior and what entertains us. (One doesn’t have to look too far to recall the pitfalls of artificially creating content on the basis of “general” data collection). 

But sometimes, frankly, it hits the nail on the fucking head. This is how I felt when a French speaking drag queen in a bleach blonde wig and sparkled American flag jacket pointed at me through her camera and exclaimed, seemingly to her disgust, “T’es woke toi. Toi t’es un woke left.” 

Sami Landri seems to be one of those rare forces that has been able to harvest the shameful data of our online experiences and make something truly invigorating out of it. Fed on the same cruel insanity or blanched and empty empowerment we all find in our little online spaces, she, unlike most of us, reflects something back to the abyss. Something that feels genuine and genuinely provocative. Something that cuts through. 

I was lucky enough to chat with her about some of these things as well as her  thoughts on the larger drag world. 

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So you’re based in Montreal, yeah? 

Right. 

Are you from there originally? 

No, I’m from New Brunswick, which is a small province beside Quebec. It’s like the Maine of Canada basically. 

Got it, got it. So I wanted to start by talking about the persona you’ve developed, Sami Landri. And how she diverges a bit from what you could maybe refer to as popular drag. She’s a bit more provocative and seems to be rooted in a kind of response to the center-leftist popular acceptance of drag that often feels a little disingenuous. She seems to be somewhat antagonistic to that as a centerpoint of the popular drag culture. I was wondering if you could speak about that as an influence and your desire to be a bit more provocative in your persona and in the work you’ve been putting out. 

Yeah, well I think you hit the nail on the head there. So when I first started having some real success on social media it wasn’t like I really intended to make it my medium. But why it worked so well, and why the videos have probably struck a chord with people, is because we do exist in a world that when you think of drag you think about this like glamorous perfection. But in this sort of neoliberal way where drag is supposed to be uplifting, and it has to be important, and it needs to be a voice for everyone! And, sure, it can be those things, but I’ve always enjoyed the more crass side of it.  

And in terms of my personal experience of doing drag, it’s just always been so much more rock ‘n roll. So crazy and chaotic. I just don’t see myself in that perfect and apolitical version of drag. The way I’ve done drag has always just been more rooted in something you could consider counter-cultural, though I don’t know if I’d refer to it that way. I’ve just always had fun poking fun at what is expected of a drag queen.

In terms of expression and promotion of your expression, it seems like doing drag confronts you with a very distinct difficulty. Like in writing or other kinds of art you can make provocative stuff but still market it as accessible or approachable. You don’t necessarily have to alienate people until they are actually sitting down with your piece. But with drag it seems the persona you’re making has to be the one you promote. And, like it is in your case, if that persona is sort of antagonistic to contemporary sentiments, I imagine it’s difficult to balance that line.

That has been something that has always been a struggle. I’ve been doing drag as Sami Landri for three years now. Which isn't long but it’s starting to feel like it’s been a long journey at this point. But when it first started, because it was so unexpected and so not on purpose I was having the most fun being as gross and provocative as I could possibly be. And then after a while of doing that, Sami Landri eventually gained enough traction where I could say Alright, this is what I’m doing. This is my path. Then there became this new issue where I now needed to find bookings. Like I wasn’t going to be able to live off this thing by just doing the videos. 

Because in Canada we don’t have that sort of revenue from social media. You don’t get money off views so no matter how popular the videos get I’m not making money off that. And I need to make money somehow, so now there’s a struggle to be approachable enough to get booked while also staying true to the thing I like. Because I know the people that watch my videos and follow my work like it because of how unique and provocative it is, but now I’m trying to toe this line in order to receive bookings. 

I don’t know how familiar you are with Quebec, and French Canada, and the Quebec star system, but it’s its own cultural thing with its own media and its own stars and its own celebrity culture that is so apart from the rest of English Canada or the United States. And it feels like no matter how big of an audience I cultivate or how popular I become I don’t feel like I received a “welcome into the club” because I’m not a drag queen that’s conservatively dressed and more easy to have around. It’s not to say that it’s all that way, but in a very general way with regard to the bigger platforms for drag, there’s this expectation to make you feel good. Like I, the drag queen, am there to make you feel good about me being a queer person taking a space. And I hate that dynamic and have always had trouble with it. For me it’s impossible to be that. It’s impossible for me to be there just to make you feel safe about me being a queer person taking up space.

So I’ve had trouble breaking out into the Quebec star system because I think I’m just a little too provocative. 

I was going to ask what your thoughts on popular appeal and catering to popular appeal. And by popular appeal I mean straight appeal. Do you think it’s in bad faith pretty often? In the larger history of drag, to my understanding, the origins seem more niche and more centered around expressing an inner state that wasn’t allowed to exist in the outer world at that time to an audience that was experiencing something similar. Or creating something that challenged people’s understanding of what was going on. And then somewhere along the line it grew in popularity and acceptance and eventually became co-opted by popular culture entirely. And then the gaze placed upon it seemed to take on a different characteristic than it probably originally had. Like you said, there became a new force of making straight people feel comfortable with it in order to gain maximum popularity. And, well, you seem to not be very interested in making anyone comfortable with what you’re doing. Do you feel alone in your approach? And do you feel like catering to this gaze has grown overly-influential within the drag scene?

No, not at all. Because here’s the thing, drag in itself has always been provocative. And it always will be. When you go see local drag, every city will have its own loud and vibrant and provocative scene. That gaze you’re talking about seems to only happen when you begin to cross over into more popular media. And it’s not necessarily straight media, but it’s media that is for the general public. That’s when that gaze shows up. But I find that the drag that exists within that gaze is very small compared to counter cultural, cool, and queer drag that exists outside of it. That type of drag just doesn’t get as seen because a big bank would rather promote and uplift a queen who says something like “love is love” versus putting the spotlight on a queen who is there to tear down the system. 

So you’ll hear more about those ones despite the fact that the foundation and the majority are more interested in being provocative and saying fuck the system. 

That’s been a big revelation for me in my own writing. When I started this magazine I was in this pretty cynical mode where I just felt like everything was shit and there was no chance to actually get provocative or creative work out there anymore. But that’s not true. There’s a million places that are still interested in putting that type of work out into the world, they just don’t receive popular spotlight because they’re antithetical to the empire basically. Like the longer I work on this magazine, the more I realize that the way I feel about this stuff is not some isolated and minority opinion. It’s just the channels of information are all blocked up. 

Right. Like the spotlight on anything is truly tiny. But it’s also all you end up seeing. And I’m shitting on it but I’m also fully aware that my goal is to be as popular as possible. I want to grow as big as possible and have a career in entertainment. So as much as I shit on it, I’m starting to accept that some of this requires some thoughtful navigation. I’m not selling out. I’m not putting aside my political views or attempting to make less provocative stuff, but I am navigating it. Because my goal has always been to be a successful entertainer, and doing this has given me a voice and platform I never thought I would have. And now I’m just trying to keep growing it as big as I can. 

Yeah I appreciate that. And even in “leftist” or “avant garde” circles it can be so easy to pick the path of stating a hardline political opinion in your art instead of adopting a more nuanced and open stance that is more open to contradiction. I think doing the latter is much more difficult. 

Which brings me to the most recent Sami Landri output. What’s so interesting about Sami Landri to me was her use of the like Q’anon-neo-conservative-alex-jones-esque aesthetic. And the videos are so much fun and we can understand them as simple farces or satorizing a conservative person, but I think the thing that your source material points to that not as many people are willing to admit is that there is something legitimately compelling about those types of people on their own. That there is something undeniably interesting and exciting about watching Trump or Alex Jones speak no matter how you feel about what they are actually saying. It’s the simple life force of those people. And I think Sami Landri really effectively channels some of this. 

Absolutely. Doing those kind ultra-conspiratorial, Q-anon persona videos are so fun. And it’s so fun because it’s so ridiculous. But I feel like the wack ass shit I’m saying in those videos is really not that far off from what people are actually saying. So it’s like the material just exists. I’m not really going that deep to create this persona. People do actually talk like that. But it’s so much fun to get into that character. 

Have you found that there’s been a large amount of misinterpretation to the videos? Has anyone taken it as sincere? 

I’m very lucky because I really haven’t seen that kind of misinterpretation. I don’t think people think it’s legit. I think I play that little wink very well. It’s possible I just haven’t seen people taking it as sincere, but my audience that I’m aware of seems to understand it and are living for it. And that sort of comes with that wink that I do. It’s just the way I do it. And I have a lot of fun with that. Because I find in drag, especially in Quebec, the humor is always in the frame of “This is such a joke and look at me doing a joke!” Or I’m going to tell the punchline in a certain way so you understand that I’m not actually this way. But what I really love is doing stuff that makes you think, “Is this bitch for real?” I just love that. 

I wanted to ask about the atmosphere of the videos. All of the videos seem to take place in a sort of liminal and isolated world. It’s always a back alley, or late, late night at a park. And there’s very rarely any signifiers to where you are. 

Yeah I very purposely film in non-recognizable places. It’s mostly filmed in Montreal, but I don’t want people to see it and be like “Oh, that’s Montreal!” I want it to be vague. It could be anywhere. Aesthetically I really like the night with the flash on. So I try to film at night because I like how the strong single flash looks against the night. It creates this vibe of like “getting caught” if that makes sense. That’s the idea behind it. 

I always film with the same person. She’s my best friend. But she’s always like we should film in front of this statue or landmark, but I think it’s really important to me to have it be  in very liminal and vague spaces. 

I was curious about your background prior to Sami Landri. You’ve been performing as her for three years. What were you doing before? 

So I’ve been doing drag itself for like six years. But the last three years I have been doing it as the main focus of my life. But I was doing drag before that as well. 

In terms of other background, I studied theater for three years in Moncton, which is my hometown in New Brunswick. And then I quit so I didn’t graduate university. I dropped out and then was working in various parts of the “art world” always with the vague goal of being an artist. I was doing theater, little films, a bunch of indie local stuff. And then I was also doing drag during this time 

So when this journey really started three years ago, and I first went viral, it was very not on purpose. It was purely accidental. But I was at this point in my life where I was so lost. It had been a year of pandemic, and I really just didn’t know what I wanted to do anymore. I thought I wanted to be an actor but it just seemed so far out of reach. I was still living in my hometown and was just lost in a lot of ways. Lost in who I was and what I wanted. I just didn’t know anymore. And then when that happened, and I became a meme basically, it was like “Oh! Well, this is interesting.” And it’s given me so much purpose and direction since then and it’s just been so fun. 

So I could only find one other interview of you in English. 

So most of my stuff has been bigger in the Franco-sphere. That stuff you saw you and liked, the conspiracy Qanon stuff, was sort of my first big leap into the anglo-sphere. Which is very exciting because I’m very much bilingual. 

How are you finding that transition into the anglosphere? Is your stuff being received any differently by English speakers? And do you find the way you speak about drag being different when you speak to Americans versus Candadians or French Canadians. I know the interview I read in English wasn’t necessarily very in-depth about much and was just kind of asking you about your favorite TikToks. 

I get what you mean. But truthfully I love both types of interviews. I love meme interviews that aren’t deep and I love more intellectual ones. They’re both great. 

In terms of reception––anglo versus franco––it has been wildly different. And that’s for a couple reasons, which is going to require me to lay down some cultural background, I think. So I’m from New Brunswick and I’m Acadian. And Acadian is very different from Quebecois. Quebecois is the main French Canadian culture. There’s millions of people and it has a thriving culture. Acadian is a very, very small and niche culture that are mostly from the maritime provinces on the east coast. Our history and culture is different from Quebecois. And our language and accent are wildly different. Cajun people in Louisiana are Acadians as well. It’s the same thing. Cultural cousins. But with that kind of background growing up as Acadian in New Brunswick was interesting because there were multiple things to separate me. New Brunswick is a mostly anglophone province, so being bilingual separates you on one level because English speakers are rarely bilingual, but I’m also from an Acadian family and an Acadian city, which separates me further from most French speaking Canadians.

So I’ve always been very accustomed to existing in this very niche space. A lot of Quebecois don't speak English. They have their own culture and way of doing things. And that’s the reason why the reception to my stuff has been so different in the francophone world: people are focused on my Acadian accent and the fact that I’m Acadian. Which is cool to be able to represent my little culture and home but it’s also a bit frustrating because it often just stops there. And what I love about doing things in the anglo world is that I’m just a person there. Yes, my stuff is mostly in French, so I’m a bit of an outsider for that, but at least in the anglo world I’m taken a little more at face value. I’m a drag queen who’s doing stuff and people are curious about that, rather than just being interested in the fact that I’m Acadian. Because when people want to have that cultural conversation it often starts to slip away from the stuff I’m actually making. 

I know this is sort of doing the exact thing you said was annoying, but do you think there’s any relation between your appeal to doing drag and being Acadian? I’m just thinking of the parallels  of small but boundary-less cultures with their own way of speaking and being existing alongside what you might call normative society. Do you think of that parallel much?  

It is kind of a parallel. Growing up Acadian in New Brunswick, I grew up with this knowledge that I was part of this niche little part of society. There was always this understanding of being somewhat different from the rest of the culture around me. And obviously I’m not a visible minority who experiences racism, but it was just this quiet understanding of niche little differences between my culture and the one that was surrounding me. And being queer is similar to that experience. And I grew up with that in mind. I was always navigating my culture and how to explain it to people. I’m from New Brunswick but I’m Acadian, etc. And being queer is very similar to that. And being queer and being Acadian are the two things that culturally feed my drag and my art. 

You can follow Sami Landri on instagram at @samilandri. You can also check out their new webseries Helpez-Moi here.