Daniel Mateo Vallejo | Las zonas grises (The Grey Zones) / 2018

tuesday

by Douglas Messerli

 

Daniel Mateo Vallejo (screenwriter and director) Las zonas grises (The Grey Zones) / 2018 [17 minutes]

 

In this late resurrection of the important subject of AIDS—at a time in which we delude ourselves that it is no longer a problem—the you 21-year-old man, Nicolás gets his first HIV test. Such tests, so the doctor seems to indicate, are required in Columbia if the individual has promiscuous and unprotected sex. Nicolás does not seem himself as falling under that category, denying that he’s been involved in “risky behavior,” but when the doctor asks how many sexual partners he has had in the last six months, when the young man answers “Three,” the doctor replies “You had promiscuous sex that was risky behavior.” A test is immediately required.

   The only problem is that it is now Friday and Monday is a holiday, so he is told to report back on Tuesday, a very long weekend with the young student must face numerous other problems.

    Apparently without a father, the members of his household seem hardly able to speak to one another, his sister and daughter refusing to say a word when he returns home. His younger brother simply demands to know why he’s not at school and asks if he’s spoken to “my mom.” Nicolás himself is utterly silent, obviously fearful of even expressing himself.

     When his mother does return home, she sits down on the couch with him to discuss the fact that a nearby neighbor’s daughter is pregnant and they don’t know who the father is. She fears that Nicolás’ brother Gabriel may be the father, and is frightened that the three of them shall have to face the consequences.

      Angry for the interruption Nicolás leaves the house, sitting in a public park walkway to drink a beer, his cellphone constantly ringing from his mother’s calls, she, quite obviously, consternated for his behavior.

   He visits a gay male friend and the two have sex. It clearly isn’t very joyous, however, and immediately after, Nicolás immediately rushes to the bathroom to wash his face, hands, and even his groin.

    It is almost as if the entire society were controlling his behavior. In the metro, a recorded voice announces “My Metro moves me to be respectful and supportive with the ladies because we are all traveling companions. That’s Metro culture.”

    Later, the same recorded voice reminds the travelers to “Give the chair to pregnant women. That’s Metro culture.”

    Nicolás is no rebel, appearing throughout to be a rather passive and obedient boy. But for such gay men it is as if their entire existence is being defined and determined by a heteronormative culture, while their own desires and needs are utterly ignored. Even their sexual activities are monitored by law, their behavior defined as something excessive by the society at large.

     If Gabriel’s situation is something the mother insists requires them to sit down together and discuss, Nicolás does not seem to be able to even share the reality of his personal life with his family and friends. The choices for such a young man seem utterly pre-determined by people who make him feel like a perpetual outsider in world in which he lives. Even if the news on Tuesday frees him from his current HIV worries, the larger problems he daily faces will not be resolved, his life still declared to be at risk. There will be further tests in the future, further medical insinuations about his behavior, secrets to be kept that are not protected or respected by the Metro culture.

 

Los Angeles, May 3, 2024

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (May 2024).