In Antidiva: The Carole Pope Confessions, director Michelle Mama makes a thrilling and long-overdue case that Carole Pope should be heralded as one of Canada’s most influential musical trailblazers. The reality is that the Rough Trade frontwoman has spent decades existing in the margins. Revered by her peers, artists who grew up on her work, adored by queer audiences and yet somehow still underrated by the mainstream.
When Carole Pope says she’s the godmother of all you bitches, she means it. Long before pop stars (straight or queer) discovered the power of being provocative, Pope was already out there blowing the doors off conventional pop imagery. Together with Kevan Staples as Rough Trade, she turned raw sexuality, queer desire and fearless rock ‘n’ roll into acts of rebellion. Songs like “High School Confidential” weren’t just catchy; they were revolutionary for 1980. Pope wasn’t being cryptic or dropping Easter eggs for listeners. With the song’s famous “she makes me cream my jeans when she comes my way” line, Pope was singing unapologetically about lesbianism and didn’t care if it caused people to clutch their pearls.
Mama’s documentary wisely avoids becoming a standard career recap. We’ve had more than enough docs that are essentially an artist’s Wikipedia page come to life. Instead, Antidiva asks the million-dollar question: why didn’t one of Canada’s boldest artists become a household name? The answers are pretty damning of where the music industry was at the time. Pope was simply too queer, too outspoken and way too early for an industry that has never quite known what to do with people who refuse to fit in a box. Pope was ahead of her time.
The film is packed with fantastic talking heads, including Jann Arden, Sebastian Bach, Jeanne Beker, Rufus Wainwright and k.d. lang, all of whom help illustrate just how enormous Pope’s influence really is. The recurring message couldn’t be clearer: if Carole Pope hadn’t kicked those doors open decades ago, a whole generation of artists, queer and otherwise, would’ve had a much tougher climb.
The archival footage takes it to another level. Watching Rough Trade perform today and seeing footage from their early days, it’s crazy to believe this was happening in the late ’70s and early ’80s. The attitude, the swagger, the overt sexuality, it still feels dangerous in the best possible way. Pope was never chasing controversy. She was simply refusing to edit herself for anyone else’s comfort.
What’s most affecting is seeing Pope today. She’s still as creative as ever and refuses to soften her edges, even as the film quietly exposes the harsh reality that the groundbreakers often don’t reap the same rewards as those who follow in the trails they blazed. Fame fades. Royalties dry up. Carole Pope, however, never stops. From her modest WeHo apartment, Pope continues to write and stay creative.
By the end of Antidiva, one thing feels undeniable: Carole Pope made space for generations of queer artists to exist loudly and unapologetically, often at tremendous personal and professional cost. Canada is serious about celebrating its musical icons. Think about The Tragically Hip, Leonard Cohen, Joni Mitchell, Broken Social Scene, etc. It’s way past time Carole Pope also got her flowers.
Antidiva: The Carole Pope Confessions can be streamed now via CBC Gem.
