by Douglas Messerli
Chris Derek Van (screenwriter and director) Julian / 2023 [4.30
minutes]
Although not specifically an LGBTQ film, in Julian rather
experimental filmmaker Chris Derek Van once more explores issues of loss and
leaving, also with a somewhat homoerotic sensibility.
The screen images are of a
young handsome man sitting at a pool, as the director shifts his color lens and
at one point even presents the image of the young boy upside down.
The narrative continues:
“Henceforth, he captured only those mysterious interpenetrations that united
shape and tone by means of a secret but unceasing progression that no
convulsion or cataclysm could interrupt or impede. Space reigns. It’s as if
some ethereal wave skimming over surfaces soaked up their visible emanations to
shape them, give form and then spread them like a perfume, like an echo of
themselves, like some imperceptible dust over every surrounding surface.”
The boy, meanwhile,
strips off his jersey and jumps into the pool, swimming and leaping back into
the water again and again. But in the midst of this, while the narrator
continues to describe how sad the world was in which he lived, filled with a
“degenerate king, sickly infants, idiots, depressed, cripples,” we glimpse a
poster showing the boy, named Julian.
Are we to presume that
this seemingly large picture posted outside the Chicago theater, with a danger
sign below it suggests that he is now one of the thousands of missing children
throughout the country?
The rest of the film is
basically a dirge, as the director borrows Simon and Garfunkel’s song “The
Sound of Silence,” while a car drives down a long road in the rain. The images
and song declare that somehow Julian either lost touch with his world or that
world with him. He has moved outside the “gates” that Velázquez describes where
the Auto-da-fé controls life, and the boy may have been forced to suffer it
demands.
We cannot but imagine
the details about the young handsome swimmer’s life, but once more director
Derek Van has presented us a great sense of loss and a nostalgic feeling of
longing.
Los Angeles, July 20, 2024
Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (July 2024).
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