Michael Morgenstern | Shabbat Dinner / 2012

hooking up

by Douglas Messerli

 

Michael Morgenstern (screenwriter and director) Shabbat Dinner / 2012 [14 minutes]

 

Michael Morgenstein’s Shabbat Dinner doesn’t truly belong with the films I am discussing relating to the tear between close heterosexual and homosexual friends. The young man who declares “I’m not gay” in this film does truly appear to be gay in this case, and, if nothing else, is quite willing to explore the issue. Yet, given what he hear going on in the nearby dining and living rooms between William Shore’s (Chris London) parents and those of their visiting Shabbat dinner friends, the Bernstein-Cohens who have traveled in from Queens to Manhattan for the evening, it seems highly likely that William, virtually on the edge of coming out in the few moments he shares in his bedroom with Virgo Bernstein-Cohen (Dan Shaked), will soon grow up to be one of the boys who utterly denies his gay sexuality.

 

    It is in this very possibility, moreover, that makes Morgenstern’s comic tribute to the children’s experience of Shabbat dinner so much more profound than perhaps it even intended to be.

      Rebecca Shore (Eva Kaminsky) is the kind of activist Jewish woman who goes about constantly seeking out new causes to help. And she has found one in David Bernstein-Cohen’s liberal Jewish seminary, which through David’s wife, the very open-minded Susan (Dawn Yanek), Rebecca has discovered and evidently contributed money.

     To celebrate their new relationship, Rebecca has invited the Bernstein-Cohens over for Shabbat dinner, an event that displeases her habitually displeased lawyer husband, Arnold (Michael Wikes).

      The early part of the dinner, as so many such evenings generally do, consists primarily of the parents expressing their bragging rights over their son’s intellectual and athletic abilities. Arnold insists that his son William is about to be made captain of his lacrosse team, explaining that he didn’t even like lacrosse when he started, but “I said buck up kind. You need to do what you got to do to get into college.”

     The Bernstein-Cohens briefly mention that their son, whose birthday it is today (Arnold leans over to say to the gangly teenager, “Happy birthday little guy”), that Virgo likes soccer.

    When the boys join up in William’s bedroom soon after, both make it clear how much they hate sports.

       When asked if he has any video games they might share, William has to admit that not only is he not allowed any such games, but that his mother doesn’t even let him watch television. He does demonstrate to his new acquaintance a small Morse Code machine that he’s created in his science class, carefully placing Virgo’s fingers on the small board as he explains the differentiations between letters of the alphabet.

       With little else to occupy them, the boys are forced to talk, Virgo asking if William has a girlfriend (William has broken up with his former female friend Dora), and Virgo admitting after several such queries by the curious William, that he not only has no girlfriend but, prefacing the comment with, “Promise you won’t be upset,” admitting that he’s gay.

       William’s response is a clumsy admission of his fascination: “That’s cool. I mean, I never met a gay guy before.”

        After being asked whether he or not he’s told anyone else, Virgo moves forward into even more dangerous territory, admitting that he has told a friend with whom he has “hooked up.”

         Even more startled by the fact that Virgo has actually “hooked up with a guy,” he rightfully asks, “Why did you tell me?”

         The answer is somewhat evident, but Virgo cannot explain perhaps even to himself, admitting that he also told his parents “yesterday.”

         Even more startled by that news, William is amazed by their responses: “My mom cried but she’s pretty crazy. My dad said God creates everyone equally.”

         “It’s so cool that you’re gay,” responds William. “I mean, I’m not. But it’s so cool that you have the balls to say it.”

  

       As if we need to further explore the differences between these two boys, the author/director takes us back to the dining room to a discussion between their parents.

        The adults have evidently been also discussing their children’s dating habits, the Bernstein-Cohens proffering that they don’t probe into their son’s personal relationships. Rebecca, however, cannot resist mentioning that “William is a serial dater. He just broke up with his girlfriend. She wasn’t Jewish.”

       Somewhat taken aback by that comment, Susan asks, “But surely she wouldn’t have to be Jewish?”

    The least open-minded of the little gathering, Arnold, marches right into the conversation to demonstrate clearly why his son is so amazed by Virgo’s honesty: “Oh Jesus. No, I would not let my kid marry a goy. Our people have been persecuted for centuries. We finally have a state of Israel. If we intermarried there would be none of us left.”

     It takes Susan a few attempts to get up the nerve to express her sentiments, but eventually she challenges the unthinking bigot of the group: “I think… I think that’s racist.”

        Like a metronome, Rebecca follow the very next beat: “Who wants dessert?”

       But Arnold cannot be stopped, declaring that he and his wife keep kosher because “I’m a good Jew. Marrying only within the faith means the same thing.”

      Contrarily, David Bernstein-Cohen argues that being a good Jew is about respect and tolerance, “For some people it’s more spiritual.”

         “I’m a lawyer. You respect the law. Religion is a set of rules to live by,” intrudes the idealogue.

         Back in the bedroom, the boys decide to play Trivia, but are just as quickly distracted by the world they have just been discussing.

          William: “How did you know you were gay?”

          Virgo: “I dunno. I just knew. I mean, you don’t always know. I looked at guys and thought I was interested. I kissed girls and wasn’t. It’s all on a spectrum, you know? Haven’t you ever looked at a guy and thought about him sexually?

          William admits, “Yeh, a few times.” After a long pause, he asks, “How does it feel to kiss a guy?”

         “Can I ask you something?” [Beat] “You wanna hookup.”

        “Dude, you’ve got balls to ask that. What if I kicked your ass?” He continues, in a far more genuine tone.  “I can’t. I’m sorry.” 

          To me, this says everything, a response which finally has met up with his entire familial situation and the learned behavior that necessarily goes with it. Whether is will ever be able to resist those words, his sorrow for being unable to truly be himself sexually will determine whether or not he will become the heterosexual monsters with whom gay boys always fall in love.

        And Virgo’s response is precisely what he will find himself saying to such monsters time and again: “I shouldn’t have asked that.”

         William seems to have already joined the band: “And I’m not gay.”

        But then, something interesting happens, as it generally does. The totally straight boy shakingly moves toward Virgo and kisses him.

          The two are truly startled, Virgo answering “That was so cool.”

         For a moment, the camera cannot resist shifting back into the adult conversation, wherein Rebecca Shore gushes to Susan Bernstein-Cohen: “Your son seems like such a nice boy. Maybe it will rub off on William.” It’s a cheap joke, but almost worth it, particularly when the camera quickly shifts back into the bedroom where we observe William sucking off Virgo, he responding “This is so cool!”

           A call out to the boys that the Bernstein-Cohens are leaving, put an end to everything as they rush to redress.

            “Look man, I’m not gay,” insists William.

            Virgo kisses him. At that very moment, Arnold enters the still darkened room.

            William whispers: “Write down your number!”

            At the front door, Rebecca concludes the evening, as her guests say goodbye, “Well that was lovely.”

            The date of this event, we are visually told at the beginning of the film, was long ago in the past, 1999, which forces all the more to wonder, whatever happened to William? Virgo is certain to have gone onto college and met a cute guy and perhaps even married him a few years after this film was made, particularly if he didn’t contract AIDS along the way.

            But William is the one who interests me here. Morgenstern argues in a brief introductory note that his story is about “the coming out of…two boys.” But since the film ends without any evidence, it is just as likely that in his need to please and emulate his forceful father, little Bill went onto law school, married properly into the Jewish faith, and himself became a lawyer or a found another profession that made his parents proud—while himself proudly declaring to every gay boy who found themselves falling for him: “I’m not gay, but write down your number just in case,” having long since learning that “hooking up” does not necessarily involve being “hooked.”

 

Los Angeles, May 27, 2024

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (May 2024).