by Douglas Messerli
Tom Prezman and Tzor Edery (screenwriters and directors) Maurice’s
Bar / 2023 [15 minutes] [animation]
Her friends hope no
one followed her there, “like so many follow you to the bed.” And they’re soon
relating the numerous recent arrests. Maurice, known as The Algerian, was also
in prison, one declares, for having kissed a man on the streets of Algiers.
Rumor has that he once killed a man with a single punch.
It also appears at
Maurice is Jewish, since one of them comments “I thought Jews weren’t
Outside, however,
police seem to be gathering, as within the drag queens begin to paint their
eyes. The show begins with an obscene dance. Beardless and
rough men, prostitutes of all genders, women in trousers, all are at Maurice’s.
Two men passionately kiss onstage.
They mention
another bar of the past, Le Scarabée. But few seem to recall it, believing
Maurice’s bar to be the first. But some recall it, a bar they visited in 1900 owned
by two lesbians. It was closed down by a police raid just a few months after it
opened.
But this night the wolves are waiting outside
the door.
We’re now told
another story, how after a few days after opening the bar a client shot Maurice
in the chest, someone who wanted the bar closed. Or perhaps someone with a deep
jealousy, a lover from his past?
As Bobette sings,
we note that the police have gathered in full force just outside the door. But
the three who enter, simply wish him a bonsoir, and join the singer upon the
stage. Three artists are arrested for dancing and singing, so the newspapers
report the next morning, “in a small sinful bar.” They are accused of public indecency,
feminine impersonation, and the corruption of the youth. Does this sound
familiar, even today as many Southern states in the US are attempting to once
more ban drag performances?
Its owner, so
we are told, will have no choice but to close the bar.
In the next
frame chaos has taken over; the bar is gone. It is now 1942 in the French
Occupied Zone. Now, 33 years later, the narrator reveals that they (this time
the Nazis) have also taken Maurice away, this time as part of the holocaust (a
Jewish homosexual). They provide him with a new tattoo.
“We should have
known what the future reserved for us, the perverts, the foreigners, the
degenerates. Everyone looks the other way thinking only we shall be hurt. But
war, it’s like a drunken drag queen doing a show who pitilessly mocks everyone
in the crowd and leaves nobody unscathed. You’ll die in those damned camps. I’ll
never see you again. All that remains are my memories of the bar and of you.
The final
credits read: “Moise ‘Maurice’ Zekri 1879-1942. Born in Algeria, lived in
Paris, died in Auschwitz. Owner of the second queer bar in Paris.”
One suspects, given the wonderful animation of this Israeli-French production, and the increasingly loss of gay and lesbian bars in LGBTQ history, that eventually we might find many more documentaries, histories, and fictional works based on the substantial institutions that these gathering places have offered to LGBTQ+ individuals over the years. Several books on the subject have become available over the last few years.
Los Angeles, June 21, 2024
Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (June 2024).
No comments:
Post a Comment