Tuesday, September 24, 2024

Julien Leyre | Honeypot / 2010

toilet tango

by Douglas Messerli

 

Julien Leyre (screenwriter and director) Honeypot / 2010 [6 minutes]

 

It’s late at night. A man, Sam Taylor (Matthew Keating) stands outside a cottage waiting obviously for a sexual meetup.

     An Asian guy (so the credits designate his role) (Nick Teoh) approaches walking back and forth several times before Sam in an almost ritual determination of whether or not it’s safe. Finally, Sam enters the cottage. And soon after the Asian follows.

     Sam is already at the urinal, and Nick (the name I’ll give him) stands next to him. Indeed, there are only two urinals in this small men’s room.

      Sam looks over at Nick, and slowly backs away a bit from the urinal and moves slightly in the other man’s direction. He smiles at Nick, and Nick, a bit more carefully, smiles back.

      Now Nick moves a bit to the left toward Sam, both standing somewhat away from the urinals, making it quite clear that they’re not there to urinate.

      Sam’s right hand goes up his back so that Nick can have a better view of his cock, and Nick moves his hand toward the other man's penis. But at that very moment, Sam flashes a gold badge, making it clear he’s a detective, and grabs his hand as if he might cuff it.



      Nick, however, pushes him away, and Sam pushes back as they manipulate each other around the room, their first somewhat in violent gestures quickly turning into a real tango as they dance around the small space, pushing and pulling one another into deep hugs and momentary clinches before dancing off once more.

    Suddenly they stand close, face to face, and begin to rub their faces against each other, ending in what might be a kiss before they again return to their pushes and pulls.


      Again they come together, Nick finally pushing Sam to the floor. He follows him down straddling Sam’s body for what almost becomes a kiss, before moving down slowly, his head disappearing out of camera range in what is appears to be leading to fellatio.

       Sam pants in anticipation, but turns to watch the Asian guy walk out of the cottage, leaving same what appears as desperate frustration.

       British director Julien Leyre has been able to convert the dozens of artificial gestures and signals of bathroom sex into a equally passionate artificial for of tango and something akin to an Apace dance.  

       A “honeypot,” in case you are unacquainted with the less common definitions is 1) Someone who is attractive or desirable and 2) A decoy or trap that attracts people or things into a scam or scheme.

       In this case, both attractive men drew each other into the decoy, the policeman waiting to possibly arrest his victim, the attractive Asian to provide the detective with sex. Neither has been trapped, and both are left panting with unfulfilled desire a film’s end.

 

Los Angeles, September 24, 2024

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (September 2024).

Felipe Sholl | Tá (Okay) / 2007

retrograde behavior

by Douglas Messerli

 

Rafael Lessa and Felipe Sholl (screenplay), Felipe Sholl (Okay) / 2007 [5 minutes]

 

Two friends meet up in the school bathroom, one (Fernando São Thaigo) reading as he sits on the countertop, his figure reflected in the mirror. He reports that he snorted some coke, but when asked by the other boy (João Ferreira) how it made him feel, he responds, “Didn’t feel a thing,” but his cock got hard.


     The other counters, “Mine never gets hard…my cock never gets hard with that.”

     When asked, the first admits he has some, and they sniff the coke together, but this time the first boy doesn’t get an erection, which the other checks out, eventually suggesting he jerk him off, and when the first rejects that idea, he posits the idea of sucking him off, which he proceeds to do.

     But soon the first boy begins to laugh. Nothing is happening, and he abandons the idea for another time.

     He sniffs some more coke, the other asking what he feels now. Still nothing.

     But this time the second boy asks, “How about my finger in your butt?”

     “Who knows.”


    The one cleans his hands and the other his butt, both having evidently not kept such careful hygiene habits previously.

     The finger goes up the ass, but still nothing. He feels not a thing, although from his face we perceive it may hurt a little.

      The first boy has another idea but is too afraid to mention it. Yet the other persists, curious to know what’s on his mind.

      He pauses longer, finally shyly speaking: “What if…what if we kissed?”

      “Kissed?”

      “A kiss.”

      “On the mouth?”

      “On the mouth.”


      “Forget it.”

      But finally, the second boy agrees, “okay,” and they begin, deeply kissing, clearly getting into it, becoming increasingly involved in the activity so much so that even when the screen grows black we continue to hear the smacks of their lips and tongues throughout the credits.

     Brazilian director Felipe Sholl comically suggests that perhaps in the time of internet porn and the open discussion of sexual activities we may have forgotten some of the most basic enjoyments in life.

 

Los Angeles, October 20, 2022

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (August 2023).

 

Claudio Bonelli | En el WC (Nel WC) (Restroom) / 2006

the inevitable

by Douglas Messerli

 

Claudio Bonelli (screenwriter and director) En el WC (Nel WC) (Restroom) / 2006 [8 minutes]

 

Argentine director Claudio Bonelli’s 2006 short film Restroom is a tease in several respects. First of all, what happens in this film depends very much on the viewer’s own perceptions, his or her own viewpoints about what such seemingly bizarre behavior truly means.



    If one is a fairly innocent, new to male bathroom sex, and not quite prepared for the incidents that occur in this work, I think you would read the film in this manner:

     A young, rather nerdy looking boy, Julian (Ignacio Berreta Cádiz) enters a public bathroom, oddly done out in white tiles with blood red walls. As he enters, he immediately encounters as tough looking, bald, tattooed man, Caco (Adrián Morales) looking somewhat like a leather number, leaning against the wall as if waiting for him. The boy is immediately frightened, perhaps awed, but quickly moves off to the urinals in hoping to escape the frightening bathroom denizen, representing many a straight and gay public bathroom user’s worst fear.


     The tall monster not only clumps over to the urinals where our young boy is trying to go, but stands immediately beside him, looking down at his cock, clearly checking him out without any hesitation. Sex is clearly foremost of his mind.

      Our boy freezes, not quite knowing how to react. Does he dare to challenge this beast. He finally pulls up his zipper and quickly walks away to the wash basins, perhaps believing his finally escaped the open observations of his cock.

      The monster follows, washing his hands a few basins over, and still staring at the boy as if he were in control. Men who hang out in bathrooms looking for sex often spend a great deal of their time washing their hands, drying them under air dryers, posing as if about to leave, but hanging on to their territory with a relentless tenacity apparent only to those who stay and watch their actions.


    Our friend looks startled, amazed at the monster’s refusal to accept his disinterest in his sexual display—what today we would describe as clear abuse, but when I was growing up perceived only as an intense display of sexual invitation, like a peacock shameless strutting around without regret or the intense embarrassment which was felt by the other for both himself and the beast.

      As the boy looks on in wonderment, the leather pants moves over to him, closely exploring his face as if considering the possibility of a kiss. Suddenly the boy breaks out of his trance and rushes off to the noise of the air dryer before slipping quickly out the hellish public toilet.


       But our monster seems almost unperturbed, wiping his hands on some toilet paper, before he leans back yet again on the wall in wait of another victim.

     There is, however, another likely interpretation, the one that turns everything else we have just thought we saw into mere misunderstandings and speculation.

        The young boy had chosen to enter the bathroom, knowing what he might encounter there, hoping for it in fact. His fears, as always, got the better of him, despite the fact that he attempted to curb them, to allow what was about to happen to proceed at its own pace. He desperately desires what the other is so nonchalantly offering, but cannot act on his own. He must be guided into action, not asked but demanded to participate in the sex acts he desperately desires. The man is no beast, but a friend hoping he would show up, trying to encourage the young nerd to allow his urges to lead him into the sex in which he so desperately desires to participate. He will not demand the boy act, only encourage; he is the devil’s helper, not the devil himself.


       He knows that he can afford to wait. Like clockwork, at some point, he moves down to one of the red-painted stalls, and pushes the door open. Our distraught boy enters the bathroom, walks slowly over the stall, and enters, the leather number following him in and slamming the door shut.

       If you can’t imagine what happens in the stall, you don’t want to know. But it was inevitable.

 

Los Angeles, August 2, 2023

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (August 2023).

Douglas Messerli | Gay Bathroom Sex [essay]

gay bathroom sex

by Douglas Messerli

 

It is rather startling to suddenly perceive as I recently have, that although it is a subject seldom mentioned in regard to LGBTQ cinema, one of the most recurrent activities played out on the screen, particularly in male gay movies, is sex in public bathrooms

   Although bedroom sex, and sex in almost any place other than a bathroom is far more common in queer cinema, it is still prevalent enough that it stands out in relationship to heterosexual moviemaking wherein such a subject very rarely appears, primarily because the two sexes are separated by separate facilities.  But just scanning some of the movies I have written about by the date of this essay took me aback.


     No movie embraces sex in public lavatories more fully Frank Ripploh’s 1980 film Taxi zum klo (Taxi to the Toilet), wherein the central character is so fond of outhouse sex that he escapes from a hospital bed to a public toilet in a taxi, just as the title suggests. Canadian director John Greyson’s 1988 film Pissoir (aka Urinal) brings together an entire assemblage of famous gay artists to study the history and current problems in the Toronto and Ontario province’s public toilets with regard to gay sex. William E. Jones’s Tearoom (2006) is a “found” work of actual police surveillance videos of the Mansfield, Ohio town public bathroom where numerous gays were arrested for having sex that recontextualizes the original footage used for entrapment.

      But far more telling is that that location of sexual activities were central in gay films as early as Kenneth Anger’s Fireworks (1947) and continued to appear regularly in gay cinema in films made in numerous countries and cultures such as James Bigood’s Pink Narcissus (1971 but made earlier), Rosa von Prauheim’s It Is Not the Homosexual Who Is Perverse… of the same year, Francis Savile’s Equation to an Unknown (1980), Paul Morrisey’s Forty Deuce (1982)—wherein a Penn Station bathroom is even described as one of the central figure’s “office”—Stephen Frears’ Prick Up Your Ears (1987), Eythan Fox’ Time Off (1990), Constantine Giannaris’ Caught Looking (1991), Patrice Chéreau’s Those Who Love Me Can Take the Train (1998) (sex in a train toilet), Simon Shore’s Get Real (1998), Kōschi Imaizumi’s Angel in the Toilet (1999), João Pedro Rodrígues O Fantasma (2000), Lawrence Ferber’s Birthday Time (2000), Welby Ings’ Boy (2005), Pedro Almadóvar’s Bad Education (2004), Adam Baran’s Love and Deaf (2004), Stephen Haupt’s The Circle (2014), Antonío Hens’ Doors Cut Down (2017), and Sebastien Muñoz’ The Prince (2019).

      Along with the ten films discussed in this essay, mostly films from the second decade of the 21st century, this is just a sampling of what I presume are dozens of the others I will eventually encounter in my queer film viewings.

      People of the same sex, many of whom are interested in observing their fellow’s private sexual organs, are of a necessity brought together in such public places, and the fact that given that many such individuals cannot make use of their own homes because of their age, the propinquity of parents, children, wives, and even husbands as well as other family members, make these highly accessible public spaces a natural alternative for sexual intercourse, despite and even because of their notable restrictions by law and police surveillance.



      There is, moreover, the sense the excitement of challenge of public sex behavior, which obviously brings out the exhibitionism and voyeurism hidden within in various degrees in most individuals. If one were simply to look over the vast lists of even Hollywood stars, openly gay and closeted heterosexuals, who have been arrested over the years for public exhibition of private body parts or for lewd behavior I think it would attest to this reality, let alone the countless numbers of everyday gay and “straight” men who have arrested and imprisoned for public sex.

      And then is the anonymity of such places. Even the back room of bars and porno bookstores, most of which were closed down forever during the AIDS crisis, would have more reason to recognize their regular visitors than public bathrooms, where thousands of different individuals come and go during open hours. Especially in large urban areas, such spots permit even those heterosexuals who are afraid of being labeled as gay an opportunity to experience queer sex.

      Moreover, not all public bathrooms are equal. Some gain underground reputations as being spots where gay men cruise while others are generally bereft of such activities. Not every public toilet is a cruising spot, surely a blessing for straight men many of whom want no part in participating or even observing through the corner of their eyes such activities. Yet, some such bathrooms are equally notorious for attracting heterosexual men.

      Finally, such locations are, after all, dedicated to the release of bodily fluids, all which provide us some pleasure.

      Yet beyond these general statements, I cannot totally explain—without writing a long and researched tome that goes far beyond the purposes of this study—why gay men throughout modern history have been willing to risk such behavior in public cottages, toilets, WCs, bathrooms, latrines, men’s rooms, comfort stations, pissoirs or whatever you want to call them. And despite all the attempts to restrict, close down, and correct such behavior in public places, sexual action has continued to take occur in these public spaces so significantly that queer cinema obviously feels it is necessary to portray it.

       Eight of the ten films I discuss below are from the second decade of the new century, and accordingly I have entered this gathering under the year of the third of these entries, 2010, instead of the first in 2006. As usual, however, I have listed all the films in red under the year in which they were released to show their places within the context of when they were created.

       These films represent a wide range of bathroom sex, from Argentinian director Claudio Bonelli’s wry commentary of an unlikely young man’s encounter with a regular bathroom denizen In el WC (Restroom) of 2006, the youthful explorations of teenage schoolboys in Brazilian director Felipe Sholl’s (Okay) (2008), an attempted arrest that ends instead in a bathroom tango and the unfulfilled desires of the cop in Julien Leyre’s Honeypot (2010), a police sting of bathroom sex in a small midwestern town in Monte Petterson’s Caught (2011), a near-homophobic scare-tactic pic against such sex in public park bathrooms in Jane Pickett’s The Men’s Room (2012), something close to a panegyric of pleasure of the sex in gay subway stations in Ashton Pina’s WC (2014), a satire about the propensity of such activity of school and public bathrooms in  Erik Clemensen’s two shorts of 2014, also titled The Men’s Room and The Men’s Room 2, to the far more-nuanced tale about a regular meetup of an outsider and security guard at a factory’s public lavatory in South African director Chadlee Skrikker’s Arrangement (2019), and another comic satire, this of opera bathroom queens in US director João Dall'Stella’s Stalls (2019).

 

Los Angeles, October 21, 2022

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (October 2022).

Guy Shalem | Ronny & i / 2013

a romantic weekend

by Douglas Messerli

 

Adam Berry, Luke Humphrey and Guy Shalem (screenplay), Guy Shalem (director) Ronny & i / 2013 [20 minutes]

 

Adam (Adam Berry) breaks up with is girlfriend Sarah and takes a vacation break with his friend Ronnie (Luke Humphrey) at the beach. The two clown around in the manner of all best friend movie boys, proving to the audience that they immensely enjoy one another’s company—that is until Adam tells his best friend how he broke up with his girlfriend, reporting to her that he’s got someone else with whom he’s in love.


     Of course, Ronnie imagines it’s another girl similar to Sarah, but Adam turns somewhat serious, particularly when Ronnie asks him how long he’s known the other girl: “I’ve known this person my entire life.”

     Ronnie is silenced, taken aback, and doesn’t quite know how to behave as it dawns on him that he is the only person that fits that statement. Ronnie vaguely admits he recognizes the significance of his friend’s statement, that he’s now trying to think back in his head about, “all those times, maybe, was that something?” Neither quite knows what to do. And when Adam says that he simply wants a “good time,” Ronnie immediately accuses him just wanting a little sex. And Adam admits that he planned the whole week and the timing for his breakup because he wanted to have sex with Ronnie.

      His friend is almost on the verge of leaving, while Adam pleads that it’s not a joke to him.


      As Adam expects, Ronnie first turns it into a situation that centers the focus upon him by suggesting that he’s flattered, that Adam has good taste; but there is a strong sense of dis-ease under his comments. But now it’s Adam who suggests they just go home, while Ronnie argues they should go ahead have a “romantic” weekend, try it out, so to speak. Adam is just making a big “thing” of it, hinting that it’s just the kind of one-time experience a lot of men tryout before marriage.

      Yet when Ronnie calls his friend a bitch, Adam is now sensitive as a freshly declared gay man; Ronnie argues that he’s called him that since they were about 12 years old. But things have suddenly shifted for them both.

      And it soon becomes apparent that Ronnie, having accepted the radical change in his friend, is truly willing to embrace it—and him. It is now Adam who feels uncomfortable, made even more displeased when Ronnie buys a balloon for their room which reads “I Love You!” with roses pasted at the bottom. Adam is further upset when Ronnie opens the shower curtain to watch him showering. Adam retreats from direct eye-contact by photographing everything. And when Adam strips off his shirt he even admits to being nervous.


      Ronnie lectures him on how he is denying the very thing he wants, retreating to a fantasy world instead of experiencing the real thing. But finally, when Ronnie begins to get physical, Adam convinces him to go to dinner first. Now they toast to each other in the restaurant for a very romantic Valentine’s day, admittedly different from what they ever might have expected, as a trio of lounge hotel lounge singers tweet out a sweet melody. It’s corny, in bad taste, and perfect for the kind of postcard greeting of the film’s title, replete with the cute little “i” and the possible misuse of the pronoun.

     Back in the bedroom, we see the vain Ronnie being honest with himself, displeased with how his body’s turned out now that he reached what the authorities describe as the age of consent, 17 or 18. But after a few more drinks for them both, Ronnie finally gets Adam to take off his shirt and pants and lures him into the bed. With just a few gentle touches, they kiss, and suddenly the years of the long friendship boil over into a sexual interlude with Ronnie going down on Adam for probably a long fuck—although the camera they have been using to record their weekend is no longer in use so we never see the crescendo.



     By the next morning, with the balloon hovering over them, all both can do is giggle, apparently with joy. We watch them clown around together yet again by the water’s edge. But this time they finally settle down next to one another in the sand, a tear falling from Adam’s eye. Ronnie hugs him close, and we recognize that the tear is one of joy because the two obviously now truly did enjoy they bedtime foray and have each fallen in love, against all odds, with their best friend.

     The performances are so straightforward a guileless (performed by the writers) and fresh that we can almost imagine that they are now a couple in real life and the events recounted in the film are autobiographical. How different this work is, in any event, from my grouping of short films, beginning in 2011, “How to Lose Your Best Friend.”

 

Los Angeles, September 14, 2023

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (September 2023).

Dominic Haxton | Tonight It's Me / 2014

blow me down

by Douglas Messerli

 

Eric Jett, Charles Mallison, and Jacob Robbins (screenplay), Dominic Haxton (director) Tonight It's Me / 2014 [13 minutes]

 

Tonight It’s Just Me begins with a scene that is anything but exclusive. A heavy set “Voyeur” (as the credits describe him, Neil Elliott) sits watching a young hustler, CJ (Jake Robbins), whom he’s hired, suck off one of his friends (Christian Patrick). Asked what he what’s going through his head when he walks into a house like this, CJ answers, “It’s going to be a payday.”


    The only thing that seems to upset him is that one of the “clients” has squirted sperm on his T-shirt. CJ, it appears, is very careful about his grooming, and certainly doesn’t want to show up at his next appointment with cum on his shirt.

     That next appointment, however, turns out to be something that he’s never quite encountered before. The young “boy” who’s hired him, Ash (Caleb James) has long hair and is extremely effeminate. In fact, as Ash soon makes clear to CJ, “he” perceives himself as a woman.

      This boyish woman, moreover, is fairly witty and willing to truly talk with the hustler instead of simply make demands.

     When the hustler asks her, “Why do you like being a girl?” she responds without a pause, “Why do you like being a boy.”


       Somehow this knowing hustler, who seems savvy about his business, has never before encountered a transgender individual! It seems more than a little preposterous to me. But I’ll grant director Dominic Haxton and his three screenwriters some leeway imagining that CJ’s ignorance allows them to explain, in quite simplistic terms, just what a transgender individual is all about.

      I’m not sure, however, that making herself up to look like a woman (i.e. putting on the lipstick and makeup) really explains what experiencing the gender diaspora of being a female in the wrong body is really all about.


     But, in this case, even after what appears to be wonderful sex—for the first time, evidently, the client attending to the hustler’s sexual needs before her own—CJ appears to be absolutely fascinated by the gender discord, and is only too ready to fuck the “girl” who has just sucked him off. There seems to be something almost transformational about his experience with this straight-talking woman in a boy’s body, who has evidently not yet had a sexual operation even though she’s currently taking hormone shots.

     Before he leaves, Ash demands CJ shoot her up, not with the kind of drugs he’s used to, she explains, but a very special kind of drug.

     The hustler is paid and he leaves, but there is something in the air that seems different, almost as if for the first time in his life, the hustler might want to return for another night.

      In this case, I think Letterboxd commentator Leonora Anne Mint rather nicely sums up my feelings about Haxton’s short film:

 

“I couldn't help but be slightly won over by this short film about a frustrated male prostitute's romantic nightlong encounter with a lonely transgender woman; it's sweet and technically very well made, with good cinematography and score. That it joins a long line of films about sex work that don't portray it in a terribly nuanced way is possibly more excusable because it's short and the topic is complex; my major peeve, though, is the fact that this is listed in so many places as a Gay Short, the plot summary here is kind of iffy, and the main trans character is played by an apparently cis male actor* who performs the role in a pretty stereotypical way. The dialogue is fine, but the stereotypes are thick—we get some quick Trans 101, a whole scene revolving around injecting hormones that has nothing to do with the story, and long scene of applying makeup because goodness knows that's what we spend most of our time doing, har har. Away from these old chestnuts, it's a sweet story and a good short, and cis people will probably come away with hearts warmed, feeling untested. I came away with my heart warmed, but also feeling fairly uneasy.”

 

*I don’t know how this commentator knows this to be true. Why should we presume that actor Caleb James is a “cis male?” The only clue might be that he continued to use the same name in his activities in later films as art director (working on Haxton’s We Are Animals the previous year), extra, and crew member (Resurrected, 2023).

 

Los Angeles, September 24, 2024

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (September 2024).

    

 

 

My Queer Cinema Index [with former World Cinema Review titles]

Films discussed (listed alphabetically by director) [Former Index to World Cinema Review with new titles incorporated] (You may request any ...