She rocked and rolled with the best of them, tackling taboo subject matter in her provocative lyrics, shattering gender expectations, and inspiring generations. Now, pioneering queer music icon Carole Pope, who rose to fame in the 1970s, gets some well-earned spotlight time in Antidiva: The Carole Pope Confessions, a documentary by filmmaker Michelle Mama.

A Canadian musician’s career is forever an uphill battle. Success at home doesn’t always translate into popularity beyond our borders, and, as any artist will tell you, you’re only as good as your last hit. For Pope, success in the late 1970s and early 1980s didn’t pan out long-term. Now, looking back on her career from her modest apartment, the trailblazing musician speaks her mind again as she reflects on her life and work in this intimate new documentary.

Featuring Pope’s unguarded confessions and reflections, Mama’s film captures the woman behind the brash onstage persona that earned her fame as a member of the seminal Toronto band Rough Trade. Alongside creative partner, the late Kevan Staples, Pope forged a path from punk’s underground to singing about lusting after a woman on CBC primetime during the Juno Awards telecast. She also charted a personal path as an outspoken, proud lesbian. Oozing sexuality onstage and fully owning her desires, Rough Trade concerts created a space where queer youth could feel safe and seen.

As the band gained wider popularity, their song “High School Confidential” found mainstream airplay, becoming what is perhaps the only Canadian hit about one young woman pining for another. Pope oozes sex while singing about how she would “cream my jeans when she comes my way” and, as interviewees like Peaches confess, it made her realize that not only could a woman be this bold and outspoken, but she could do so as a lesbian, too.

Though “High School Confidential” might be the band’s biggest hit, Pope is so much more than that song. When Antidiva premiered as the opening night film at Hot Docs earlier this year,  Pope wrote of her reasons to participate in the doc in a CBC essay, stating: “I was so tired of being underappreciated as an artist, and seeing other people lionized for the same things my sweet departed collaborator, Kevan Staples, and I did eons ago.”

Armed with this knowledge, Mama’s film follows a fairly traditional documentary structure for its decidedly non-traditional subject. Pope hasn’t lost her edge in the decades since she burst onto the music scene, and she remains a compelling storyteller. Still, she seems to keep some of her cards close to her chest. Woven together with archival footage of Rough Trade’s formative years, Mama’s interviews and these glimpses into the past gradually build a fuller portrait of the artist.

The most compelling part of the story isn’t just Pope’s personal journey but where she sits within the broader context of the Canadian music industry. Here, Mama and Pope are most critical. For a woman who achieved such success and notoriety, why hasn’t her legacy endured in the way some of her peers’ have? While successful women like Jann Arden and k.d. lang sing Pope’s praises and acknowledge her trailblazing work, she hasn’t enjoyed the same longevity or recognition.

Pope, who now survives gig to gig while trying to get a musical off the ground, laments the hardships of being a musician in the streaming era. In a telling moment that drives home the generational divide between emerging artists and music veterans, Pope’s sound is unceremoniously cut mid-performance at a Pride Toronto event. It’s not just unprofessional; it’s downright objectionable to see a queer elder treated with such disrespect at an event meant to celebrate and uplift the community. Pope is left dumbfounded, but the incident underscores Mama’s larger point about how the industry treats its veteran musicians.

Featuring interviews with George Stroumboulopoulos, Jeanne Beker, Sebastian Bach, and others, Antidiva is a fitting tribute to an artist who refused to play by the rules. But it also serves as a pointed reminder that breaking barriers and making history don’t necessarily guarantee a lasting place in it.

Antidiva: The Carole Pope Confessions screens on Saturday, November 7, at the Windsor International Film Festival.

Not sure what to watch at WIFF? Check out our list of 25 films to see at the fest this year!