Philipp Karner | Here We Are / 2023

making friends

by Douglas Messerli

 

Philipp Karner (screenwriter and director) Here We Are / 2023 [19 minutes]

 

This quirky Austrian short in English pairs two very different people in Vienna, a British tourist Markus (Daniel Quincy Annoh) and a Hungarian street performer, András (Kristóf Gellén) who are both having one of the worst days of their lives.

     Wandering the museums, monuments, and Vienna streets, reminding himself of his lover’s abusive taunts, particularly the words “You’re boring,” Markus tries to gain strength by listening to a ridiculous self-help tape which ties to convince him that he too is a rock star. But obviously, it’s not working on the utterly depressed young man, who had planned on the trip to Vienna with his boyfriend to propose marriage; he had even bought a ring. But now he is alone, a being who he himself describes as always desperately wanting to be a relationship, but when he is, desires just as fervently to be free.

      Tired of museums and worn out, he listens to an Hungarian guitarist sing a lovely song in his original language. A few people move forward upon the song’s completion and throw coins in his guitar case, but Markus is still a bit in awe, and before he can even get together the idea of handing the performer some money, András has already packed away his instrument and moved off.       Markus continues on his way without any destination, at a loss of how to continue the trip to Vienna on his own.       

     But suddenly, near a cathedral, he runs into András again. This time Markus pulls out a bill and, after telling the performer how beautiful he thought the song was, tries to hand him the money. But András is offended that he is simply handing him money as if he were a beggar and refuses to take it. Markus is ready to shuffle off, even further upbraided, until András calls him back, apologizing for his behavior, trying to explain it’s been a bad day, as if Markus did not feel the very same. András insists on buying him a coffee, taking back the money Markus still has in his hands and telling him to watch his instrument.

      He returns and the two begin to talk. András admits to having done a really bad thing, so bad that his girlfriend has thrown him out of their share apartment. When Markus asks what it is that he’s done, he admits to having slept his girlfriend’s best friend, believing that she was cheating on him. He admits now that she probably wasn’t cheating and he knows he’s fucked up. Markus nicely analyzes the situation: “You were afraid. You hurt her before she could hurt you.”

      András admits that he’s probably right. But when he asks if Markus has a girlfriend, he replies that he’s not in relationship, which rightfully makes any wisdom he has about the situation questionable.

      The conversation having come to an end, András reports that he has to go pick up his clothes, and prepares to leave Markus, but suddenly turns back to surprisingly ask if he has any thing he’s doing that afternoon, and if not, might he join him.

 

     Tired of museums and, frankly, with nowhere else to go, Markus tags along on the long trip via tube and bus to the housing project where András and his girlfriend lived. He tries to ring up the girlfriend, but she refuses to answer, as the two sit waiting for her response. Suddenly Markus admits that what he said previously was bullshit, explaining the facts I’ve outlined above.

      When András asks why he didn’t explain that to him previously, Markus answers: “I hate having to out myself all the time. …And I want not to care, but there’s no telling how people will react.”

       András reacts: You know what. I think the fact that he said you were boring says more about him than you. I mean, who the hell says that to people? You should be angry. But the problem is you actually believe him. Otherwise you wouldn’t be sad. Who the hell cares what he thinks, or what anyone thinks?”

       “Only a straight guy would say that. When you’re gay, you always hear what people think about you. From early on. You’re…confronted with it. People’s opinions of you

       Markus’ answer is perhaps one of the most profound statements in this short film, and explains a vast difference between gays and straights that seldom gets spoken of. You wouldn’t know what that means.”

       Finally, András gets the call, and his girlfriend comes to the balcony high above to berate him. But the two are finally let into the building where they collect his clothes. They return to the street carrying several suitcases and bags.

      Markus insists on calling him a car, explaining it’s been an inexpensive trip since he has had no one to spend money on. As the car comes and they pack András’ possessions into the trunk, Markus suggests this will be the last time he sees him, with András suggesting that he might someday visit London. And suddenly, he turns and hugs Markus close. He gives him his phone number, and leaves in the car, as Markus walks forward ready to make his way back to the center city for yet another museum, monument, or walk down Vienna’s picaresque streets.

       This is an LGBTQ film in which gay and straight come together out need and form a kind a temporary bower of love that is just enough to get both of them past the current bump in their lives. And in that sense it is a rare picture in which sexual boundaries no longer truly matter.

 

Los Angeles, August 8, 2024

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (August 2024).