Roberto Nascimento | Boyfriend / 2021

the problem with walking away

by Douglas Messerli

 

Josh McKenzie and Roberto Nascimento, screenplay, based on a story by Márcia Sasano), Roberto Nascimento (director) Boyfriend / 2021 [20 minutes]

 

Brazilian born director Roberto Nascimento lived for 20 years in New Zealand before moving to Sydney, Australia. This New Zealand-made film is a remarkably simple in its story. An older man, Bob (José de Abreu) rents a young “hot” boy Levi (Josh McKenzie) to be his boyfriend for a long weekend. And that is basically the end of the story.

     Yet in the 20 minutes of this film, we gradually get to know these two figures, young and old, the one somewhat saddened for having lost his youth, the other perhaps a bit afraid of what he knows he will be facing, particularly given he apparently mostly services older men (“They pay better.”), in the not-so-distant future. Levi, as cute and utterly charming as he is, with dyed blond hair, a carefully kept and exercised body is, as he admits at one point, already 30—presumably the 30s being the magic age when he will no longer be in such demand.

 

   In this instance, sex is not the big issue. From the beginning Bob determines to keep his clothes on, suggesting that Levi can dress as he likes—even stay naked if he desires—as he orders from room service a lovely dinner after which they watch a movie. A great deal of time is spent showing Levi showering, brushing his teeth (dressed only in his underwear in front of the wide hotel window that looks over the street, hinting that he may also be an exhibitionist of sorts), lathering his body with lotion, and participating in similarly toilet activities. We know, in nothing else, that he keeps his body spotless.

     The next morning, they share Levi’s favorite Havana coffee at a nearby shop, and they go clothes shopping at a second-hand clothing shop, both clearly Levi’s suggestions. Afterwards, they visit a second-hand book shop, perhaps Bob’s request. Yet, when Bob mentions Gauguin, Levi immediately relates his full name, Paul Gauguin, mentioning that he was Van Gough’s friend. Soon they are on to a history, shared by Bob, of lapins or rabbits.

      On their way back to the hotel, Levi spots a completely drugged out boy, Jakob (Christopher Moore) who seems in such a bad way that he insists they call the police, Bob clearly admiring his caring sense of responsibility, as they wait for help.

   They move on, back to the hotel where, finally, they have sex. After Bob comments that in comparison with his photo on the website, Levi is much more beautiful in person. And we recognize, if we haven’t previously, that these two disparate individuals have struck up a true relationship, a friendship the links them closely despite their differing ages.

      Over the remaining time of the film, they talk about a wide variety of topics—why Levi paints his nails yellow (his mother used to paint them when he was a child to keep him from biting his nails), how Bob had always wanted a daughter (he has two sons, his youngest son being older than Levi), Bob’s insistence that at his age he was “as fit” as Levi is now, vague information about Bob’s wife of 38 years (who has been dead now for 3 years), that his adventures with Levi represent his very first time with a rent boy, and that 50 years before he had sex with a man (obviously, like so many straight men curtailing his sexual desires from a need to maintain a semblance of heteronormative behavior.) “I was 18. I had a friend I was very close to. We kissed once. But it was not an option where I am from. Not the place, not the time. You are lucky. For living in progressive times.”

     Bob reaches over to run his hand through Levi’s hair: “Beautiful hair.”

     “Thank you. My mom doesn’t like it.”

    Despite their rapport, however, something seems to be wrong with Levi. His dreams are filled images of home movies of him as child, running and moving with total abandonment through the yard. But he awakens from the sound of his own heavy breathing, coming in short spurts. He dresses and goes for a run.

      It’s rather apparent that he is recalling a glorious childhood and youth but fears for its end, the closure of what is called youth and perhaps the future disavowal or refusal for his professional services.

      He returns and showers, Bob still in bed asleep.

      Once again they go out to a strange food-stand for breakfast where Bob talks about his experiences in Macau, evidently not very pleasant ones. They stop in a record shop. Bob talks about a performer who changed lavish costumes after every song and who quoted poetry. And once more they seem both to enjoy the day together.

      Night comes, and it is clearly time for Levi to pack up and leave. He’s already sent Bob his bill. “Is it time?” Bob asks. “Yeah.”

      “I had a nice time. You’re good company.”

      “So are you. Thank you.”

     It is clear through their almost teary eyes that they are both reticent to call it a day. And they stand looking at one another, shaking hands, perhaps afraid even to kiss. “See you later, Bob,” says Levi as he turns to leave. The camera follows his slow walk to the elevator and catches a look of slight panic for a moment on Bob’s face.

      This truly gentle expression of something that is usually portrayed as heinous and mean provides us with a totally different perspective of what being a male “prostitute” or “rent boy” is all about. Their time together is clearly something they both needed, Bob seeking a kind of younger self and a surrogate for the male lover of so many years before, Levi obviously seeking a father (he never speaks of his own) and someone who can help to make him feel younger as he approaches what for such prostitutes might be described as middle-age. Together they have shared a couple of days in a kind of urban Eden, reaching across their experiences to find meaning in each other’s lives. And perhaps, for one of the first times ever, Levi is tempted to not just walk away.

 

Los Angeles, April 19, 2024

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema (April 2024).