Alexandra T. Steele | Like a Brother / 2002

hate

by Douglas Messerli

 

Christopher Thell (screenplay), Alexandra T. Steele (director) Like a Brother / 2002 [12 minutes]

 

Alexandra T. Steele’s short film of 2002 Like a Brother seems torn about which direction it wants to move. On the one hand there is Nate Christy (Damien Midkiff), a skinny, pimpled young teenager who is quite obviously awed by his next door neighbor and sometimes friend, the school basketball player Andy Thomas (Ryan Honey). But then there are the problems at home as in the very first scene of the film we overhear what appears to be a violent fight between the Christys, with Nate’s father storming out—apparently permanently, since Nate later tells his neighbor that his parents are getting a divorce.

      The Christy family and their neighbors the Thomas’ evidently join one another on a lakeside trip every Labor Day, which in the film is the very next day—coincidentally only two days away from when I watched and am now writing about this movie. Despite the tragedy now facing his mother, Nate still begs for her permission to join the Thomas’ in their Labor Day celebration, clearly because of his obsession with Andy.

  

      She agrees, and the celebration seems to be going well, with the two boys joyfully fishing out on the lake, the far more mature Andy, with shirt removed and suntan lotion spread across his well-developed chest and back suggesting that his friend join him to get a little sun. Having been working on sit-ups to develop himself—which apparently have had little if any effect—Nate is shy about removing his shirt, but does no nonetheless. Andy, like many a teenage boy talks about the size of his own cock and those of the basketball players with whom he showers, marveling at one of their penis’ which he describes as being like a snake. Obviously devoted to his body, he spends long moments admiring his own pectoral development, showing of his chest and back muscles as he rubs on the lotion.

        When the two determine to go back, the anchor seems stuck, and Andy leans into Nate’s backside as together they attempt to pull it up. In the process, Andy’s face comes near to Nate’s and for a moment it looks almost as if he about to kiss him, Nate immediately and eagerly responding with an attempted kiss as Andy pulls away, Nate still caught up in the moment shouting out, “I love you.”

      After a pause, Andy attempts to resolve the situation by adding “…You mean like a brother.”

      At first Nate, stunned by the shifting of the situation is speechless, but when Andy repeats the words, agrees, yes, “I love you like a brother.”

      And so ends the event except the quietude of both boys on the trip back home. Obviously something has happened that Andy cannot quite forgive and Nate cannot forget.

      The next day at school Andy stands in the hall with a couple of his athletic mates talking when Nate suddenly sees them and comes directly up to Andy, asking how he is. The boys glance away, obviously wondering how Andy even knows the dork, and Andy greets Nate coldly. When Nate turns away to leave, one them can be heard saying “He’s a little faggot,” Andy responding, “I’ll set you up man.”

         Nate turns back to confront these bullies, asking the one, “Do you want a date?” There is a moment of silence until Andy’s friend says, “Fuck off you little faggot.”

         Nate argues the way all gay boys have attempted to explain themselves since such school ground battles first came into existence, “I’m not a fag, tell them Andy, you know!” evidently presuming his “brother” will now defend him.

         “Tell them what?” replies the coward.

         Andy’s friend turns to him incredulous, “What do you know?”

        Andy’s reply is the ultimate in denial: “I dunno, he’s just some stupid neighbor kid.” He even stands further against his “brother,” commanding Nate to go home.

       Surprisingly Nate, enraged by the situation, calls Andy “the faggot” beginning to repeat the litany of “Greg’s pecs” and “Russ’s cock,” etc. The result is that Andy begins to beat him, and even when Nate’s down on the ground continues to kick him, harder and harder as if possessed, until the two other boys attempt several times to pull him off.

       Blood running from his mouth, Nate mutters “I hate you,” Andy suddenly totally broken by what he has just done, hitting his own fists upon the metal lockers, as Nate continues, “I hate you.”

       So Steele’s movie ends, with utterly no resolution and little hope that any reconciliation can take place. It appears Nate has lost a “brother,” a friend, and a father all within a few days. But what do the two have to do with the other we have to ask? We might feel more sympathetic with Nate given the terrible realities he now must face alone. But we certainly didn’t need yet another tragedy in is life to feel that. And we don’t know Nate well enough as a character to even imagine what his reaction to these terrible hurts will now be.

       This film leaves us only with the pain of denial and feelings on the part of both boys of self-hate. And, of course, we might add Andy’s own denials not only of Nate but of his own possible sexual feelings to which we won’t admit to himself.

        Dozens of films previous to this have made it clear that behind bullying often is the peer pressure to confirm to homophobia. But where does this film, having made that fact evident yet again, want to take us? Apparently, there’s nowhere else to go when you’ve reached hate.

 

Los Angeles, September 3, 2022

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (September 2022).