I can see Jay there (2025)

I first met Jay at Kanaal40, a bar located in Amsterdam’s Warmoesstraat. I worked behind the bar, Jay worked as a security guard at the door. At the threshold of the club, Jay found a sense of security: a space to express themselves and explore who they want to be. What remains once nightlife spaces close their doors? What does it mean to feel seen and understood? I met Jay while working as a bartender at Kanaal40, a bar that was once located in the heart of Amsterdam’s Warmoesstraat. At the door, Jay worked as a security guard. The job of a security guard is often an invisible one, a tough yet relaxed attitude is the norm, however Jay stood out. Through their bold remarks and warm, personal approach, Jay gradually cultivated a close-knit community in the smoking area while I watched from behind the bar. At the threshold of the club, Jay found a sense of security: a space to express themselves and explore who they want to be. Even after the bar closed its doors, the experience continued to shape their life in deeply personal ways. On a car ride through the Hague, Jay opens up about topics of identity and alienation, seamlessly intertwining them with more mundane reflections and anecdotes. They reflect on their journey to feel seen and understood, inhabiting a body that is often perceived differently than how they see themselves. Part portrait, part reflection, the documentary traces questions of visibility, safety, belonging, and how identity forms in relation to place, staying grounded in the texture of friendship, memory and a real voice.

I first met Jay at Kanaal40, a bar located in Amsterdam’s Warmoesstraat. I worked behind the bar, Jay worked as a security guard at the door. At the threshold of the club, Jay found a sense of security: a space to express themselves and explore who they want to be.

What remains once nightlife spaces close their doors? What does it mean to feel seen and understood? I met Jay while working as a bartender at Kanaal40, a bar that was once located in the heart of Amsterdam’s Warmoesstraat. At the door, Jay worked as a security guard. The job of a security guard is often an invisible one, a tough yet relaxed attitude is the norm, however Jay stood out. Through their bold remarks and warm, personal approach, Jay gradually cultivated a close-knit community in the smoking area while I watched from behind the bar. At the threshold of the club, Jay found a sense of security: a space to express themselves and explore who they want to be. Even after the bar closed its doors, the experience continued to shape their life in deeply personal ways. On a car ride through the Hague, Jay opens up about topics of identity and alienation, seamlessly intertwining them with more mundane reflections and anecdotes. They reflect on their journey to feel seen and understood, inhabiting a body that is often perceived differently than how they see themselves. Part portrait, part reflection, the documentary traces questions of visibility, safety, belonging, and how identity forms in relation to place, staying grounded in the texture of friendship, memory and a real voice.