Dean Loxton | Dániel / 2015

the restorer

by Douglas Messerli

 

Dean Loxton (screenwriter and director) Dániel / 2015 [15 minutes]

 

This is a beautifully written and filmed short movie about a group of Hungarian emigrants living in England. One of their friends, Nori (Hilda Péter) is dating a native Britisher Tom (Henry Garrett), and one of her friends has arranged for the party; among the attendees are Agi (Éva Magyar), Andras (Ádám Tompa), Neomi (Mimi Kovacs), and Nomi’s closest friend, Dániel (Balázs Csémy), who is studying psychology at the University. Nori, we see from clips early in the film, is particularly dependent on her friendship with Dániel, and is clearly eager for him to be there as a support. 

     The luncheon, held evidently in suburban London, is a quite beautiful event, to which everyone brings their own Hungarian dish. The guests seem polite and sophisticated, speaking of events back in Budapest and how much better it is for them to be in England, one of the guests having just visited her mother back in Budapest.

     Tom is noticeably late to the party. But, he too, seems pleasant and comfortable, noting that he grew up in Bristol, Dániel mentioning that he and Nori had once visited the city for a couple of nights, commenting on how beautiful it was.

     What isn’t discussed, but is central to what screenwriter and director Dean Loxton visually presents, is that in order to pay for his education, Dániel works after hours as a male prostitute. We see him with three clients, one a handsome younger man (Alex Reece) who basically fucks him but enjoys the experience enough that he invites him to parties that he attends. Dániel politely thanks him, but bows out of the invitation, particularly when the customer asks if he does coke. 

     The second customer, an older man, is basically a voyeur, taking great joy it simply watching Dániel touch himself and, presumably off-screen, masturbate. The session enters with the two finally sitting side by side on the bed, with Dániel gently touching his arm in seeming friendship and commiseration for man’s own sexual shyness.

     The third customer, someone who has obviously met with Dániel previously, wonders if there might be some way to help him with his studies or whether he might at least join him for dinner in the city. Dániel suggests it’s quite impossible, and when man admits he may be stupid for even having the questions, Dániel assures him the question was not the problem and that he appreciates that man’s interest in him.

      A great deal of the interspersed clips with Dániel in the room he rents for these occasions consists of him changing pillow cases and stripping the bed for cleaning. Obviously, Dániel must practice safe sex.

     Throughout, despite his secret source of income, we grow to admire the gentle prostitute, to perceive his true caring for all those with whom he meets up and his unashamed attitude towards his customers, providing them with love they can’t find elsewhere.

      At the party, Dániel hardly says a word, but nicely smiles, and when Tom mentions that he’s heard that he has to work as well, the boy simply replies “Yes, to cover tuition and stuff.” When asked how he finds juggling his job and work, he answers “Its flexible, what I do.”

 

     It seems to have been the perfect luncheon, as people begin to leave, and finally Dániel suggests he has to be going as well. He hugs Nori goodbye, and Tom says he will see him out. But suddenly at the door, he asks if he can talk to Dániel for a moment. What follows is contradictory to all else that has come before, and is all the more shocking for that very reason, as we realize that Tom’s smiling, friendly demeanor is a cover for something much darker and meaner.

      “I just wanted to ask if you could do something for me?” Tom begins in a seemingly friendly manner. “I know how much you care about Nori. So I think you’ll understand. Nori and I are in a great place in our relationship. You’ve made a choice about what you do for a living…and it’s something I can’t accept to have around us. Back away. Quietly. Is that clear?”    

       Dániel leaves without answering. But obviously it is quite clear. The man is openly telling him to get lost because he cannot except someone else’s activities. Why should Dániel be someone he cannot bear to have around him, and why if he and Nori are “in a great place” would he want to ostracize her closest friend. One recognizes that prostitution is still not accepted by most of polite society and that many might react just as Tom does to the idea of it as a way of living. But given what we have seen of Dániel, his kindness, his ability to bring out the best in the loveless men he encounters, we can only see Tom’s politely expressed banishment as pure homophobia, with a dread of even being near someone who might infect his pure world.

 

      And suddenly we recognize the nice lover of Nori for what he truly is, a hidden monster of British tradition who might make anyone unhappy in a relationship, but will surely break Nori’s heart. At some point she will have to learn what her lover has done in excluding people from her life of whom he is intolerant.

      Loxton’s movie doesn’t preach; it doesn’t need to. It simply reveals the putrid soul of so very many nice-seeming individuals who pretend to love when, at base, they are haters. In his occupation, Tom restores furniture, perhaps even lovingly brings ancient objects back to life. But they are objects, not human beings, while we might note that Dániel’s job involves restoring human beings back to humanity and life. A restoration can also mean a return to the old order as opposed to these emigrants who left their old lives to discover the new.

     In this work, it is not the gay man who has the problems but the heterosexual who feels contaminated by those around him, and as such cuts himself and his supposed loved-one off from some the most loving of individuals.

 

Los Angeles, June 26, 2023

Reprinted by World Cinema Review (June 2023).