a summer romance
by
Douglas Messerli
Jakub
Wenda (screenplay and director) Tam, gdzie płaczą ptaki (Where the
Birds Cry) / 2023 [15 minutes]
The
sentiments of Polish director Jakub Wenda’s short film Where the Birds Cry have
been expressed since the earliest days of cinema, particularly in gay films.
But 14-year-old Szymon’s near-total desperation for having to remain in his
dreary seaside village is the near-perfect expression of his youthful angst, representing
the desires of all young gay people who feel trapped in worlds in which there
seem to be no others like him.
Szymon (Borys Otawa) might be described to
be in a near permanent pout, as he hangs out with other school mates, keeping a
short distance from them and hugging himself into a something like a rock of resentful
isolation. His schoolmates, it’s clear have given up at even trying to involve
in their silly heterosexual folics.
Suddenly against the permanently gray sky
where even the birds seem to constantly cry out in desolating, he spots a ray of
sun on the strand in the form of his childhood friend Filip (Jakub Gąsior),
whose businessman father has long taken his family elsewhere. Unlike Filip, the
handsome boy was obviously a good friend of all the locals, and is greeted with
great pleasure, as the group begin drinking and playing games of the spin the
bottle.
Later, however, Filip runs after Szymon,
giving him a proper hug, with the unhappy kid expressing first his wonderment
that his friend has returned—his father has come for business and Filip has
tagged along just to see his old classmates—now shares his envy for Filip’s
having been
able
to leave and travel. “I always thought somehow that we would leave here
together,” he laments. Szymon’s greatest desire, he explains, is to go on a
safari.
One day Filip forces his friend to close his
eyes and he leads him to a “mysterious” location; when Szymon opens them, the
boys are surrounded by cows. See, you have gone on your safari, argues Filip,
insisting that he chase after them and try to ride of heifer.
But, of course, this is only a temporary
visit; Filip’s father is soon leaving.
At a goodbye celebration, Filip dances
with some of the school girls, while Szymon sits curled up into his stone-like
fortress of self. In the very next instance, however, Filip moves toward his
friend stretching out an open hand which Szymon, at first not even
comprehending what the gesture suggests, takes it, his friend pulling him up
for a dance.
The film ends with the now lonely Szymon
once more on the beach, scrunched up into his rock-like position, waiting,
clearly waiting for his time to leave. But at least now he knows that he is or
at least was once loved. He too now has had a summer romance.
Los
Angeles, May 2, 2024
Reprinted
from My Queer Cinema blog (May 2024).
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