Joshua Coppenbarger | Opening Night / 2023

first kiss

by Douglas Messerli

 

Joshua Coppenbarger (screenwriter and director) Opening Night / 2023 [14 minutes]

 

Not long before Josh (Jack Walz) is due on stage, a performance in which he must kiss the school beauty, Kate (Yahm Steinberg), the cute kid is getting more and more nervous. First of all, he has never kissed Kate yet even in rehearsal, and everyone at school knows it the big scene they’ve all been waiting for.

     Moreover, he’s never kissed a girl before, in fact he’s never kissed anyone. His eyes keep going toward the tall dancer Tyler (Jeremiah Brannan) who he’s watched in rehearsal, and who performs in the intermission of the play in which he is in.

     We realize by this point we have entered the world of a boyhood fantasy and somehow freshman writer/director Coppenbarger will get his two cute boys to hook up for a bit of kissing practice.

     The clumsy manner in which Coppenbarger gets the boys together is to gather up all the freshman boys in a kind of pre-play initiation ceremony wherein the actors are forced to accept a handful of foot power, rub it into the cocks and balls and then slap their still dusty white hands on the wall. For what purpose they engage in this activity, we’ll never know.

 

     The rest of the boys get it over with as they can while Josh and Tyler tarry, finally getting up the nerve, after everyone else has left, not only to talk to one another but to actually practice that first kiss, which, of course, quickly becomes a second, an intense third and more as the two boys quickly fall in love, and Josh has no problem kissing the heavily red lipped female while, presumably thinking only about Tyler.

     The film is cute, but truly pointless—a film of first love and first kisses without any clue about one comes next or even if anything else might follow. This is what you might describe as pre-adolescent cinema at its best. The boys are cute, and the stage lights up in lovely colors as they share their first sensation of a mouth put to mouth.

 

Los Angeles, January 23, 2024

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (January 2024).

Madeleine Gottlieb | Walking Gambit / 2023 (TV series, Erotic Stories, Episode 5)

finding what he thought he lost

by Douglas Messerli

 

Adrian Chiarella (screenplay), Madeleine Gottlieb (director) Walking Gambit / 2023 [28 minutes] (TV series, Erotic Stories, Episode 5)

 

Although TV has certainly matured in the US, occasionally bringing highly sophisticated LGBTQ material into the framework of the still basically sexually terrified medium, I can’t imagine a short film as sophisticated as Australian director Madeleine Gottlieb’s Walking Gambit on US television.

      Presented as Episode 5 in an Aussie TV series devoted to “erotic stories”—of which only 2 episodes were gay—this film begins in a man, Patrick (Yuchen Wang) walking his dog one night late in a public park. The park clearly is a favorite cruising ground for both gay and straight couple, the former in great profusion in various forms of undress and sexual positions. As happens in these situations, a particularly sexual arousing couple fucking, draws several people, including Patrick to briefly surround the couple in pure voyeurism.

       Eventually, however, Patrick moves off, tying up his dog, Gambit, to a tree, as he moves on into deeper brush to hook up with a handsome man Cyrus (Dominic Ona-Ariki). The couple have apparently enjoyable sex, but when Patrick returns to reclaim his pet, he discovers him gone, and angrily blaming himself, slamming his fist into the tree, bloodying it, as he goes in search of Gambit.

       He reencounters Cyrus, the man with whom he has just had sex, who when Patrick briefly describes the problem, offers to help him find the dog and even dress his bloodied hand, suggesting that in most such cases the animal will return home, offering to drive him to his house.

        But Patrick, at first, seems disinterested in his help, and we suspect, as Cyrus also seems to hint, that Patrick may be one of the many married men who tell their husbands and wives they’re off to walk the dog while actually seeking out other sexual partners. And when Patrick, finally allowing him to drive him home, asks him to let him out a few blocks away, we are almost convinced that that it precisely the situation, particularly when a woman, Fiona, calls to tell him she’ll see him the next day.

        Gambit is not at home, and Patrick, who has provided his pet with an implanted chip, calls the animal services phoneline, they promising to be on the search for the dog as well. And the next morning, Patrick calls his employer to tell them he is sick, while he goes on search for the dog, once again encountering his sexual partner of the previous night.

        Yet again, Patrick remains unfriendly and refuses to fully communicate with the quite friendly and seemingly willing to help Cyrus. But Cyrus, who describes his himself as a gardener, finally does begin to make some small communication with Patrick, who reveals he is a teacher of high school students. And the two gradually begin some early communications, even agreeing that their sexual encounter was fulfilling for both of them. It almost seems that they might develop a relationship as the go calling through the park for Gambit.

        In director Gottlieb’s complex work, in fact, we begin to discover not only that the previous evening was the first time Patrick ever visited the park, but that he is—or as we quickly discover was—a married man, whose gay partner was precisely the kind of person who Cyrus had described. Patrick admits that the two discussed almost everything with one another, but, although he knew or, at least, suspected that his husband’s nightly journeys to walk Gambit involved sex, they never once discussed it. And it was not until one night that he received a call—presumably to report that his lover had been killed by one of his nighttime partners—that Patrick had his fears confirmed.

      His journey into the park, in part, was an attempt to understand why his otherwise loving and loyal husband did not feel that their own relationship wasn’t enough: “And I’ll never know why. Why I wasn’t enough.”

       We also sense Cyrus’ basic goodness, and his possible ability to offer something to replace Patrick’s confusion and longing for his former companion. But when Patrick accidently meets a gay librarian from the school, who when told about the loss of his dog, also wants to enter into the search for Gambit, Patrick’s entire mood yet again shifts. Embarrassed by being seen by a friend with another man in the park, where even his friend warns him that there are “perverts in the bush,” leads Patrick to turn on Cyrus and demand he leave him alone in his desperate search to find the one thing the two former lovers shared and which still symbolizes that lost love.

      Calling out over and over for “Gambit,” which we realize might describe Patrick’s entire nighttime outing—a risk he has taken to gain an advantage over the horrific situation that brought about his lover’s loss—appears almost as a surreal attempt to call back the night, not only of his own recent experience, but those many, many evenings which stole his husband from his own bed.

      Amazingly he discovers the dog, but now with another man holding the leash. Gambit immediately recognizes his owner and Patrick is delighted with the discovery. But the stranger insists that the dog is not Patrick’s, that he knows the man who owns the dog—obviously Patrick’s husband. He has taken the dog because he has not seen his friend, obviously a regularly sexual partner in the park, and was delighted, so he suggests, that perhaps the man had returned and that through the dog he might find him once again.

     But from Patrick’s reaction, he suddenly recognizes the truth, that Gambit is his dog as well as the stranger’s nighttime sex partner. He apologizes for having taken the dog, and admits that he barely knew him, not even his name. He tries to explain: “Something happens here. It feels like…like…um, like being alive.”  As the man turns to go, Patrick calls out, “Hey, just so you know. He won’t be back.” The scene is so very painful that it tears at the heart, the lover reaching out to explain, indirectly to one of the men who stole his own husband’s love, so that he too might share in his sense of bereftness. “He’s gone.”

 

     Cyrus once more shows up, Gambit seeming to truly like the friendly stranger. “You found him,” Cyrus says. Patrick’s agreement clearly stands for more than just the dog.

      Writer Adrian Chiarella has brilliantly expressed what gay men search for in such public parks, woods, and dark meeting-up spots around the world, that cruising is not always just about sex, but as the stranger has attempted to explain, about hope, about feeling that the individual is still sexually alive. Even the monogamous Patrick has perhaps learned that potentially love can be found in even these strange and dangerous spots.

 

Los Angeles, January 23, 2024

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (January 2024).

Franz Osten | Prapancha Pash (A Throw of Dice) / 1929

the gambler

by Douglas Messerli

 

W. A. Burton (screenplay, based on a story by Niranjan Pal), Max Jungk (German scenario), Franz Osten (director) Prapancha Pash (A Throw of Dice) / 1929

 

Based on an episode from the great Indian epic The Mahabharata, A Throw of Dice is one of the most significant successes of the of Indian producer-actor Himansu Rai's and writer Niranjan Pal's collaborations with the German director, Franz Osten.

     Rai, a wealthy and educated Bengali, and Pal had desired to bring Indian stories to the screen, convinced that there would ultimately be a market in India, and in Franz Osten they found the perfect partner, a man desiring to direct international works who saw the lure of the exoticism of Indian culture for his German audience.

    Osten also turned to be an intelligent director, proving himself in early films such as Prem Sanyas (The Light of Asia) of 1925 and Shiraz of 1928, before he worked on A Throw of Dice. With the advent of talkies, Rai and Pal founded the Bombay Talkies, which helped create the Bollywood sensation of today, truly popularizing film in India. Osten continued to work with them after the silent era, but in 1939 he was arrested as a member of the Nazi Party, and was held until the end World War II.

     The British Film Institute's archives restored the film in 2006, adding music by British Indian composer, Nitin Sawhney.

     The film itself, as critics have noted, is a spectacular somewhat in the manner of Cecil DeMille films, employing 10,000 extras, 1,000 horses, and numerous elephants and tigers. Yet for all of its grand Aida-like scenes, the story itself is an intimate one, wherein two wealthy cousins King Sohat (Himansu Rai) and King Ranjit (Charu Roy), on a hunting party both meet and fall in love with Ranjit's former teacher's daughter, Sunita (Seeta Devi). Her father had left the court because he wanted to keep his daughter safe from the evils of that world, in particular the handsome young Ranjit's addiction to gambling. But like all movie hermits, the world comes to them. 

     Jealous of Ranjit and seeking his fortune, Sohat tries to murder Ranjit in the jungle, portraying it as a hunting accident. But Ranjit, surviving the arrow, is nursed to health in Sunita's house, bringing the two closer than they might otherwise have been, leading to a deep love. Although her father forbids their marriage, Sunita determines to run away with Ranjit, while Sohat plots to kill the father with Ranjit's dagger, making it look as if his cousin had committed the evil act.

     Until they hear of the father's death, the couple have a few joyous days on Ranjit's barge, but when she hears of the death, Sunita flees, presuming that Ranjit has killed her father to gain her hand.

     Sohat's men arrest her flight, bringing her to his palace; but despite her belief that Ranjit is guilty, she will not give in to Sohat's lavish gifts and pleas for her hand. Ranjit, disguised as a juggler, attends Sohat's dinner in order to convince Sunita of his innocence, ultimately winning her over once again. They plan for a lavish wedding, but Sohat, presenting his cousin with a gift of gambling board and dice, tempts Ranjit into a game where he eventually wins Ranjit's kingdom and makes him his slave.

     A slave cannot marry, and Sunita, observing Ranjit's beatings, gives in to Sohat's demands.

    One of Ranjit's men, however, discovers through his young son, that Sohat has used trick dice in the game, and, revealing this to Ranjit, allows him to lead his forces against Sohat, who commits suicide. The loving couple is reunited once more.

     Although it is no more complex than a simple US Western, the film's locale in Rajasthan, with its scenes of royal life, beautifully lit by Osten, seem so realistic that the viewer does feel finally he has entered an exotic world out of the past. Particularly in the palace scenes, where the characters are dressed in lovely costumes, their faces decorated for the marriage, Osten's film projects a rich texture that is superior to most silent films of the day. And Charu Roy—a groom more handsome than his wife is beautiful—enchants the eyes.

 

Los Angeles, March 9, 2012

Reprinted in International Cinema Review (March 2012).

P. J. Hogan | Muriel's Wedding / 1994

waterloo

by Douglas Messerli

 

P. J. Hogan (writer and director) Muriel's Wedding / 1994, USA 1995

 

1994 was a great year for Australian actor, Bill Hunter, who played in two of the ABBA movies I'm discussing, The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert and Muriel's Wedding. Although he appeared in no scenes in which ABBA songs were played or discussed, I'd be fascinated to know his opinion of the popular Swedish group.

     A "gentleman" of the old school in Priscilla, in Muriel's Wedding Hunter plays a thorough scoundrel, Bill Heslop, a failed politician, now serving as Council President in the small town of Porpoise Spit. Heslop is an uneducated tyrant, whose four children appear to be slightly mentally retarded. His abused wife, Betty (Jeanie Drynan) seems to have lost herself along the way, spending much of the film in a kind empty reverie. Mostly the children sit watching the telly or, in the case of Muriel (Toni Collette), running to her bedroom to escape into the fantasy world of ABBA.

     The film begins at a wedding of one of Muriel's high school acquaintances, as the bride tosses the wedding bouquet. Muriel, dressed in an outrageous leopard-topped outfit, catches the bouquet, much to the distress of the bride's close friends, a gaggle of young mean girls who have joined in the kind of imbecile clique one finds in any American high school—and apparently in Australia as well. These young women and their boyfriends, having served as homecoming queens and kings and their court attendants, never outgrow that glorious moment in their youths, even as their faces sag and their stomachs grow fat. For now, they are the "beautiful" set, to which Muriel, a hefty, awkward, and not-too-bright woman would love to belong.

     As Muriel walks through the house, she observes the groom having sex in a laundry room with another girl of the group, not the bride.

    Soon after, the police show up, and Muriel is carted off. She has evidently stolen the outrageous costume upon her frame. The embarrassment and shame of her acts are all her father can endure, as he buys off the policemen by chatting up memories of their sports pasts and sending then off with a case of beer. Muriel's younger sister Joanie chimes in, as she does from time to time, "You're terrible, Muriel." 

    Soon after we witness a business dinner in which the despicable Heslop berates his family in from of his Japanese guests. A friend happens to drop by:

 

                                  Bill: Deidre Chambers. What a coincidence.

 

     The event and reaction happens so many times throughout the film that the humor gradually begins to turn into a sharp knife that cuts through the comedic structure of Muriel's Wedding, particularly when we begin to perceive the consequences of his not-so-secret affair. His wife, however, currently remains clueless, as Deidre praises her as part of the distraction. Betty is so bruised that any kind statement absolutely lights up her face. 

    So too has Muriel loss any sense of self-worth. As her "friends" plan a junket to an island get-away, Muriel fantasizes that she may join them. In no uncertain terms they tell her that they do not want her company any longer, not just on the holiday, but ever. Muriel bursts into tears, which they see as further proof of her inability to "behave" appropriately.

    Not only is Heslop having a relationship with Deidre, but he requests his own wife weekly to write out a check to her. This time it is made out to cash with no amount specified. Since Muriel has made an appointment to meet with Deidre about selling beauty products, she is asked to deliver the check—with the near-inevitable outcome.

    So begins the real story of Muriel, as she shows up, much to their dismay, at the same hotel where the girls are staying. This time something different happens: another woman appears, who seems to know Muriel:

 

                     Rhonda: Are you Muriel Heslop?

                     Muriel: No.

                     Rhonda: Yes, you are!

                     Muriel: Why?

                     Rhonda: I don't know why, you just are.

 

So begins a series of denials and lies about Muriel's own identity, as she attempts to carve out a new self that might be closer to her dreams—all of which include marriage and the joy, at least to her way of thinking, that comes with it.

     Another of the girls whom the set rejected, Rhonda (Rachel Griffiths) befriends Muriel and, being a gutsy, sexy individual, reveals to the hometown girls what Muriel has told her, that the bride's husband has been having sex with friend beside her. Soon after, we see Rhonda and Muriel, the first time for the latter utterly enjoying herself, both dressed in white, as they mime the lyrics to ABBA's "Waterloo."* Although they cannot comprehend it. their white apparel and the love lyrics they are mouthing are absolutely appropriate, for despite all the circumstances of the rest of the tale, they have, in fact, been spiritually wedded.

     Those "circumstances" include an investigation of Muriel’s father (since Muriel has written a check for far more than his account balance), her and Rhonda's escape to Sydney—where Rhonda initiates her into a world of wild heterosexual sex—and Rhonda's sudden collapse, signaling that she has cancer, the operation leaving her crippled for life. Through this whirlwind of events, Muriel matures somewhat—as she observes to her new friend:

 

                        When I lived in Porpoise Spit, I used to sit in my room for

                        hours and listen to ABBA songs. But since I've met you

                        and moved to Sydney, I haven't listened to one ABBA song.

                        That's because my life is as good as an ABBA song.

                        It's as good as "Dancing Queen."

 

     Yet she has still not come to terms with herself and her desires—she is still, after all, a bit slow-minded; she has yet to comprehend who she is and what she might truly want out of life. Secretly, Muriel, who now calls herself "Mariel," begins to visit wedding dress shops, trying out various dresses and collecting the photographs into an album as if she has lived an entire life of wedding-going, with her always as the bride!

     When Rhonda discovers the album and confronts her, Muriel cannot understand why this has caused such a rift between them. Soon after, she signs up for a sham wedding with a handsome South African swimmer determined to join the Australian team by obtaining marital citizenship.

     The wedding itself is a grand affair, with the braggart Heslop in his prime, Deidre at his side. Betty arrives late, but is not even observed by her excitedly giggling offspring. Even though it is a not a "true" wedding, Muriel obviously sees herself as having gotten what she so longed for. And, one must admit, she has suddenly blossomed into a beautiful bride. Rhonda's reaction, that of a spurned lover, severs their relationship:

 

                    You're right, you are a new person, and you stink. "Muriel Van Arkle"

                    stinks. And she's not half the person Muriel Heslop was.

 

 Even her new "husband," David Van Arkle (Daniel Lapaine) cannot explain his wife's behavior:

 

                      David: What kind of person marries someone they don't know?

                      Muriel: You did.

                      David: I want to win. All my life I've wanted to win.

                      Muriel. Me too.

 

    She has, of course, "won" nothing except the money she has been paid. A telephone call reports her mother's death. Suddenly, Muriel is forced to face realities she has never dared to. Her mother, having burned the grass her lazy son consistently refused to mow, has committed suicide. Deidre is already busy house-cleaning, intent, obviously, on immediately moving in.

     The shock of her mother's unexpected act seems to awaken Muriel who finally comprehends that marriage is not a wedding ceremony, but a state of being, a commitment to love. Her final revelation comes through an admission to her husband, after a surprising sexual encounter, obviously her first:

 

                      Muriel: I can't stay married to you, David. I have to stop lying now.

                                   I've told so many lies...I don't love you.

                      David: I don't love you either, but I think I could like having you

                                  around.

 

     Told to keep the money, Muriel returns to Porpoise Spit, sharing most of it with her father upon obtaining the promise that he will stop verbally abusing her brother and sister. Her next stop is ineluctable: the house in which Rhonda is now living with her mother.

     Visiting her are the obnoxious "set" of the earlier part of the film. When Muriel asks if Rhonda will join her in Sydney, her friend's reply is immediate:

 

“Sorry, Mum. You know I love you, but you drive me crazy. And you three [the high school trio], what a bunch of cocksuckers.”

    Rushing off into the horizon with her friend in a wheelchair, Muriel finally has come understand what love is. If theirs is not quite a lesbian relationship—they both remain heterosexual women—the love the two now share crosses over into quite queer territory, where traditional marriage will now certainly be out of the question.   

 

*Waterloo

 

My, my, at Waterloo Napoleon did surrender

Oh dear, and I have met my destiny in quite a similar way

This history book on the shelf

Is always repeating itself

 

Waterloo - I was defeated, you won the war

Waterloo - Promise to love you forever more

Waterloo - Couldn't escape if I wanted to

Waterloo - Finally facing my Waterloo

 

My, my, I tried to hold you back but you were stronger

Oh dear, and now it seems my only chance is giving up the fight

And how could I ever refuse

I feel like I win when I lose

 

Los Angeles, February 5, 2012

Reprinted from International Cinema Review (February 2012).