the day after
by
Douglas Messerli
Peter
Knegt and Oliver Skinner (screenplay), Stephen Dunn and Peter Knegt (directors)
Good Morning / 2014 [10 minutes]
In
a Montreal apartment, bottles are strewn across the counters and cigarette
butts fill an ashtray next to a happy birthday card. The numbers 30 have taken
a dive into a half-eaten cake. The loud
and
annoying alarm-clock is calling out for the totally done-in man, still dressed,
lying on his bed.
The man (Peter Knegt), unnamed, has just
turned 30, in case you haven’t guessed, and he will soon realize that he has a
massive hangover from the night before when he visited a bar into the late
hours and then invited someone else back to his apartment.
But then, quite unexpectedly, he hears a
voice, “Are you doing okay?”
He looks down from his bedroom loft and
sees a young boy sitting on his couch, who reports “You were really drunk.”
He manages to bring himself down the
ladder to find out who the boy is. The boy (Oliver Skinner) asks him “Do you
remember coming back her with you.”
[Since there are no character names, and
the actors are also the writers, from here on I’ll refer to them by their first
names.]
All Peter can manage is a question: “How
old are you?”
Oliver tries to console him, arguing
that there are only 6 years between them, Peter evidently having told him it
was his 23rd birthday party, a misapprehension Peter now attempts to
correct.
And no, they didn’t have sex, Oliver
explains. They made out at the bar and the birthday boy invited him to his
place; but instead of making drinks, “you went to the bathroom and started puking
your guts out.”
The cutey has even made them toast. (All
Peter had in the fridge was bread, hot sauce, and beer.)
Oliver observes that Peter’s apartment
is small.
Peter responds: “Where do you live,
like in a dorm room?”
It turns out that Oliver lives with
parents, but it’s okay, he assures his senior. They know that I go out, and
besides he again repeats, he’s 17. His parents have known he was gay since he
was 13.
But the discussion has really turned to
a kind of father-son disquisition. When asked by Oliver when Peter realized he
was gay, he responds: “I was a lot older and I didn’t go out to gay bars at 17.”
And it’s clear as well, Peter is now of another generation. For his comments
don’t even faze young Oliver, as Peter now begins questioning him about his
dating life.
Oliver doesn’t date, but hangs out with “This
guy from school.” He goes to the bars with him, but his friend always leaves
with someone else.
“Then why are you friends with him?”
Peter enquires like a dutiful elder counseling a youth.
It later becomes evident that Oliver
would like a relationship with the elusive friend.
In the bathroom Peter encounters the
mess of his last evening. And we realize that instead of challenging a young
boy who’s stayed with him, so Oliver claims, just to make sure he was all
right, he might rather be asking himself some serious questions such as why on
his 30th birthday is he attending a bar alone? Why has he drunk so
much alcohol? And, most importantly, why he has invited a 17-year-old boy to
come home with him?
Moreover, we soon discover, Peter has
taken this tiny apartment a few months earlier when he broke up with his lover.
Why has he not yet found someone else, someone who at least might celebrate his
30th birthday with him.
When the boy’s phone rings, Peter
recognizes the tone to be from Grindr, he suggesting Oliver is perhaps a little
young to be using Grinder, especially, after grabbing the phone from his hands
he discovers the boy’s message: “You wanna get fucked?” Peter insists he delete
that message, but the boy resists his advice, repeating he’s 17, Peter arguing
he should instead meet a boy at school or something.
So this short film goes, as the two
struggle through their age differences almost as if Peter were 60 and Oliver
aged 10. Neither quite able to understand the logic of the other. Its amazing,
but obviously true that the 13 years between them might as well be a chasm.
When Peter explains that he and his
boyfriend broke up after 4 years, Oliver finds it rather “awesome,” wanting to
know why they broke up.
Peter refuses to explain except to note
that if Oliver ever finds someone with whom he wants to live together, “you
should both delete Grindr,” suggesting that either he or his boyfriend had sexual
meetings outside of the relationship
Finally realizing that his probing
questions of the young boy he’s found on his couch are perhaps out of order and
truly meaningless, he sends the boy on his way.
But after Oliver leaves, he checks him
out on Grindr—which Peter has denied he uses—discovering on the meet-up service
the boy describes himself as “Sweet Sixteen.” Peter quickly sends him a
message: “Hope you have a good morning, Sweet Sixteen.”
The film challenges us to ask questions
that neither of the men on either side of their generational divide really dare
to ask of themselves. Although Peter has begun to challenge Oliver, he hasn’t
really managed to reflect back upon himself. And for the young 16-year-old, the
elder’s questions
The problem as one ages, even at the
still quite young age of 30, is that, as Action puts it in West Side Story,
you were never the same age as someone who now claiming to be 17. Each
generation knows that their time is only their’s alone and they have to live it
in a way only they can and desire to. Nothing stays the same. You can only live
in the moment you are in, no matter how much you might desire to go back again
and set things straight or help others not to make the same mistakes.
Los
Angeles, September 21, 2024
Reprinted
from My Queer Cinema blog (September 2024).
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