by Douglas Messerli
Hayley Gauvin, Andrew Gillingham, Daniel Jeffery (screenplay), Andrew
Gillingham (director) Banana / 2017 [14 minutes]
Charlie (Ryan Jinn) is uncomfortable with on-line dating, particular
his new on-line dating service Banana, which he finds to be more about being
liked (somewhat like Facebook) than consisting of men who are truly interested
in a relationship. Moreover, the man he truly has a crush on is his friend,
Zach (Jacob Woike), in whose apartment he spends most of his time sleeping on
his couch.
Checking out his Banana site, Charlie receives a message from a former friend Liam (Adam Allsop), “Hey!”; and almost as he’s speaking, Zach connects up with Liam, asking what he’s doing that evening.
Zach, we soon perceive is
not truly on Charlie’s wave length. As Charlie looks over the landscape from
Zach’s balcony, responding “It’s so pretty,” Zach, busy once more on his
cellphone, responds “Who?” Liam, meanwhile, messages back, “Nothing, wanna hang
out.” So much for Charlie’s plans.
Dressing up in his cute costume, he discovers Liam in the living room with Zach. Not taking a clue about the intention of his visit, Charlie interrupts by at one point sitting between the two, and finally begins to actively interfere with meet-up, suggesting he call a cab, that Zach put his overalls on, etc. When Liam actually begins to rub Zach’s thighs, Charlie demands to talk to Zach separately, Zach suggesting it’s rather rude, and Charlie reacting with a comeback, “You’re being rude.” Zach suggests Charlie stop drinking, that his face is red, Charlie immediately interrupting the statement as being racist.
As things escalate, Liam
leaves, feeling it’s definitely not the right time to be visiting Zach, and
unable to discern precisely what his relationship is to Charlie. And finally,
Zach tells Charlie to leave, to which Charlie reacts even more abusively. Zach
chases after Liam, Charlie trying to message him that he’s sorry and recognizes
that he “fucked up.”
Charlie packs his bag. But
he waits until Zach finally returns. This time Zach really orders Charlie out
of his house, but Charlie refuses to go until they resolve the situation,
declaring that he had invited Liam over simply prove that Liam desired him more
than with Charlie, a truly paranoid delusion on Charlie’s part. Charlie finally
admits that it’s hard for him to date, to see guys, to have casual sex,
insisting that Zach has it so much easier. He finally admits, moreover, that he
loves Zach, and that his jealousy is due to that fact.
When Zach, in all honesty, admits that he just doesn’t feel the same thing for Charlie. Charlie, in tears, grabs his bag and leaves. End of film.
I imagine that Gillingham and his two writers felt they were simply expressing the truth of such situations, where one friend has an infatuation that other simply doesn’t share. And, if gay short films are any evidence, it’s a fairly common situation, often ending in a sad outcome.
But there still seems
something terribly unsatisfying about this short film, which ends, quite
intentionally, without resolution. We all know there often isn’t any resolution
and that fiction is not the same as life. But still, we feel for the desire to
see, at least, that Charlie finds a place to crash for the night. Perhaps
because we know so little about these characters, we wonder whether or not he
will even survive. Does Zach care enough, as a friend, to seek him out and offer
him a friendship without delusions. Does Charlie have someone else to whom he
might reach out? Does he even have a job? If you’re going to present realism,
one need to present more realist facts in order help the audience to understand
that the story we are being told really matters. Ultimately, we feel cheated,
as the character obviously does on his forays into Bananaland.
Los Angeles, March 9, 2024
Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (March 2024).
No comments:
Post a Comment