Monday, October 7, 2024

Euros Lyn | Heartstopper: Crush / 2022 [TV series, Season 1, Episode 2]

why am i like this?

by Douglas Messerli

 

Alice Oseman (screenwriter), Euros Lyn (director) Heartstopper “Crush” / 2022 [30 minutes] [Season 1, Episode 2]

 

What I didn’t mention in Episode 1 was that Charlie also happens to be a drummer, which allows him early in this second episode to relieve some of his high sexual tension, while poor Nick is suddenly forced into a kind of “Gay Panic,” as he struggles to understand why he can’t even properly communicate with his new friend via cellphone. Scrolling through Charlie’s pictures on his phone site, Nick loves what he sees, but also hears his fellow classmates’ homophobic comments about Charlie. He can’t literally get the horrific sound of that abuse out of his own head as he attempts to, on the one had assure Charlie that it’s okay, while simultaneously condemning Ben’s behavior and signifying his devotion to protecting his friend from him in the future. And then, like an older brother, he cannot help but wish to provide Charlie with advice: “Please don’t talk to Ben anymore.”


     Every message becomes a further commitment to the gay boy he’s clearly developing feelings for that he has never previously experienced; and, yes, his feelings are more than troublesome, as he writes out message and after message, only to erase it. The message he finally sends, “Are you feeling okay?” is utterly fulfilling to the equally confused Charlie. He permits him an entry into Nick’s life without either of them admitting to their true feelings which they can’t even admit to themselves.

     While struggling with their communications, the film plays Frankie Cosmos’ song “Sappho”:

 

From the street I see your window

And I look up in

Is that even your house?

Is that Sappho you're readin'?

 

Is it cool when I don't care?

Can you feel me in the air?

Under the crack in the door

Can you tell I have no floor?

And I'm shiverin' just thinkin'

Where have you been all these minutes?

 

      Nick’s insistence that he is there for Charlie and that if he wants to talk, he’s open to listening expresses everything that these two boys can express at that moment.

      We now get a rather unnecessary flash-back with Charlie and Ben, leading again to Nick’s demands that Charlie not see Ben anymore, to which Charlie answers, giving Nick a way out, “Thank you for being my supportive straight friend.” Nick takes the exit gracefully, but both he and the viewers know there’s now something deeper going on.

      The formidable love emoji with which Charlie responds says it all.

     Meanwhile Tara (Corinna Brown) is still having difficulty making new friends at her school, but finds a supporter in her teacher.

     The major issue in this episode is Tao’s insistence that Nick is straight, and that Charlie’s sudden infatuation with him is pointless. Fearing that he will be hurt, he finally convinces himself, if not Charlie, that Nick has a girlfriend with Elle, who goes to Tara’s new school.


     What he can’t know is that suddenly Elle and her friend Darcy Olsson befriend the new girl, and when Tao demands Tara try to find out if the relationship between Elle and Nick is true, she discovers that in fact, Elle has a lesbian relationship with Darcy.

      It’s not that Tao’s comments don’t affect Charlie, who barges into a conversation with the patient advisor Mr. Ajayi (Fisayo Akinade) how he might possible stop being in love with a straight guy.

      Ajayi’s comment is the kind of quip that makes this series so utterly charming: “Ah, the question for the ages. I thought you had a boyfriend.”

      “No, this is someone else.”

      “Wow. Being a teenager is terrible. You know when I was a teenager I had a crush on a straight boy. I just repressed it and suffered.”

     Charlie’s answer, as he presents his endlessly benign signature smile, “That doesn’t sound very healthy.”

      Charlie insists that “He’s a really good friend,” to which the supposed source of wisdom replies, “I’m afraid you’re just going to have to suffer then.”


          But no, things are beginning to heat up with Nick and Charlie, as the drummer attempts to teach his friend how to play the drums, requiring a great deal of hand-holding, and later, Nick, sitting on the couch with a now sleeping Charlie, cannot resist what any gay boy might do, putting his hand into the empty hand just awaiting his electrifying grasp. I had almost forgotten that impossible temptation of joining oneself with another until I watched this episode the other afternoon for the second time. The graphic sparks were just what I felt back in those days, terrified by putting the hand into its long-for receptor, pulling back in terror, before finally making connection once again. Yes, Charlie has to go soon after. He’s confused. And he honestly has to admit that Charlie looks so cuddly, as he impulsively grabs him and hugs him close, before moving off to declare that he’ll see him on Monday. Even Charlie’s cynical sister doesn’t think he’s straight.


      As Charlie checks his email, Tara signals that Nick is not at all in a relationship with Elle.

    Nick goes into a spin, replaying the pictures of his and Charlie’s wonderful day alternatively with members of his ruby team, with Orla Gartland’s memorable lyrics of “Why Am I Like This” playing in the background.”

     Nick looks up “Am I Gay” on Google.

 

Los Angeles, October 7, 2024

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (October 2024).

 

 


Adrián Vivar | Rutina (Routine) / 2022

hate pretending to be love

by Douglas Messerli

 

Adrián Vivar (screenwriter and director) Rutina (Routine) / 2022 [21 minutes]

 

Mexican director Adrián Vivar’s Routine is a film that is bearable to watch only if you read it metaphorically. If it were presented as realism, it would be just too painful to experience, although we know that what it represents does actually occur in families over and over.

      For the hero of this cinematic exposition of homophobia, Mario (Luis Ceceña), is a young gay closeted 16- or 17-year-old, who must daily make his way through a world in which there seems to be little love and support for someone like him.


     His mother is highly religious, like so many of her kind using her religion as a shield to hide behind while hating anyone outside of what her conservative Catholic dogma decrees is sinful. Mario’s father is a misogynistic brute who equally maltreats both his wife and his son, demanding each morning—part of the substance behind this film’s title—that his breakfast be ready and grabbing away the newspaper his son attempts to read. When he hears that the Mexican government may pass legislation giving LGBTQ individuals the right to marry, hate storms out of his mouth, reified by his wife’s conventional religious beliefs.

     Each morning the bus which would take him to school, refuses to even recognize Mario’s existence, and he is instead forced to take a taxi in which the driver reasserts all the standard reasons why gays should be given no rights—although always justifying his version of homophobia with the words “That’s just my humble opinion.”

      Another figure with whom Mario daily meets up passes him, phone to ear, espousing homophobic remarks about a supposedly gay friend

      At school, Mario can least exchange glances with the gentle Leo (Ángel Higuera), but even that is somewhat controlled by his lesbian friend who obvious tries to control access to Leo. And the boys on either side of him spend their time sharing their nightly exploits with hot women, interrupted only with their inability to comprehend why anyone would want to be gay.

       Beginning in May 2019 and during the year, 2022, in which film was made, several Mexican states begin passing laws permitting same-sex marriage, first San Luis Potsi, then the state of Hidalgo, also in 2019, followed by Baja California Sur in June 2019. In 2020 the Contrell of Tlaxcala passed the law, followed by Sinaloa in 2021, and Zacatecas later that year. The Congress of Veracruz passed the law on March 1, 2022, which went into effect three days after the Supreme Court of Mexico finally ruled against the anti-gay provisions. The other states legalized it the same year. Still today, although marriage licenses of issued, gay marriage is illegal in some states, as is adoption of children is still illegal, including Baja California Sur.

       But in this film, the government of Baja California Sur, where most of this movie was shot, after a religious protest followed by a Pride protest the following day, ended with the government voting against.

      Gradually, through the week this movie portrays, Mario, growing more and more furious with the “routine” homophobia he must daily face, begins to speak out, at first rather softly, but increasingly louder. When his parents insist that he join them in the anti-gay march, he refuses, but quite literally kidnapped by his father and locked in the car as it drives off to the homophobic even despite his protests.

      On the next day, Mario dares to openly gaze at Leo in his classroom, and is awarded with the gay boy’s invitation to a film the next afternoon, meaning that the two boys disappear from their classes, joining in the afternoon gay demonstrations. In those few hours, they bond, Mario clearly also falling in love.


       As Leo arrives at Mario’s house, he goes to kiss him, Mario at first pulling back, but finally accepting it almost as a dare and demonstration for his family. From the house Mario’s father suddenly erupts, chasing Leo off and pulling his son inside to beat him.

       The next morning Mario confronts his mother, wondering why she too hates him. She insists she loves him, but he firmly attempts to explain that by not accepting him as who he is, a gay son, she represents all the hate and repression which supposedly Christianity stands against. “Spare the rod” is not within her grasp of comprehension.


        Finally, the voices of hate he has been experiencing all week sweep Mario up in a tronada of words which result in his own fury. This time instead of watching the bus pass him by, he stands in front of it, as we see the sign on that the bus: Sociedad (Society) who obviously refuses to stop in their relentless forward drive for his kind. The following day’s newspaper announces the death of a young man in a bus accident.

        This time a boy looking very much like Mario, opens the paper, as a mother, very much like Mario’s mother cooks up his breakfast. The new boy screams in the torture of what has become far too routine.

 

Los Angeles, October 7, 2024

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (October 2024).

    

Alexander Korda | The Wedding Rehearsal / 1932

the matchmaker, or, the tie that binds

by Douglas Messerli

 

Lajos Bíró and George Grossmith, Jr. (screenplay), Helen Gardom, Robert Vansittart, and Arthur Wimperis (dialogue), Alexander Korda (director) The Wedding Rehearsal / 1932

 

Like most interesting movies, Alexander Korda’s 1932 film The Wedding Rehearsal is many things: a satire about the upper classes in the manner of that same generation’s The Philadelphia Story, a political statement of class privilege in post-World War I Englanda straight-forward social comedy, and an almost Wildeian statement about the trials and tribulations of marriage. Underneath all of these popular genres, moreover, The Wedding Rehearsal is a kind of “rehearsal” for the far darker kinds of comedies we would later see in works such as Robert Altman’s A Wedding and a whole series of later films that mock that institution.

 

     The Marquis of Buckminster (Roland Young) is what we might have described earlier in the 20th century as being “the not marrying kind,” a perennial bachelor, which is code for his closeted homosexuality. Yes, he loves the company of beautiful women, but only when they’re safely removed from any true sexual encounters such as Mrs. Dryden (Diana Napier), whom he “pretends” to be courting. Obviously, a film of 1932, even a work by the more explicitly LGBTQ-expressive Noel Coward, could not come out to actually express the fact that someone like the elite and perfectly groomed Buckminster was not at all interested in women. He, like so many such figures of the movies until the 1960s, is simply resistant to marriage or, as he himself describes it, has not yet found the right “tie” that might perfectly match his immaculate tuxedo. It’s clear early on this in this spritely movie that he far prefers the company of his friends in the Queen’s Guard, who all dress up in uniforms and outrageously coifed headdresses.

      But what do you do if your grandmother, in this case the Dowager Marchioness of Buckminster (Kate Cutler), demands you immediately marry or cut you off without another cent of her quite liberal allowance. At least she, unlike Dudley Moore’s granny Martha Bach in Steve Gordon’s 1981 film Arthur, gives him a list of possible alliances. As the clever script sums it up:

 

Marquis of Buckminster: Oh, all right, I'll marry somebody.

Dowager Marchioness of Buckminster: "Somebody"! Do you know how many girls there are for you to choose from?

Marquis of Buckminster: Roughly 6,000,000, aren't there?

Dowager Marchioness of Buckminster: Exactly 7 young women who are fit to bear our name, and

your children.

Marquis of Buckminster: Oh...

Dowager Marchioness of Buckminster: That is, in England.

Marquis of Buckminster: That's right, dear, buy British, yes. Well, come on, tell me the worst.

Dowager Marchioness of Buckminster: My first choice, the Roxbury twins.

Marquis of Buckminster: Both of them? 


      Buckminster quickly removes the Roxbury twins, Lady Mary Rose and Lady Rose Mary (Wendy Barrie and Joan Gardner) off his list when he discovers that they are madly in love with the commoners “Bimbo” (John Loder) and “Tootles” (Maurice Evans)—it’s interesting in this more feminist-leaning film, the males are given the names traditionally applied to “on-the-up” achieving females. These formidable two are different only in that one adores dogs, and the other cats.

      Crossing these abashed lovers off his list, Buckminster quickly plants their marriage plans in the local newspapers (another delight of this film, is its satire of newspaper reportage, already foretelling how the tabloids would soon replace actual news reporting), and forcing the truly snobbish Earl of Stokeshire (George Grossmith, Jr.) to accept his daughters’ choices, particularly when goaded by the Marchioness’ suggestion that no one would possibly attend such a double wedding.


       Making a decision for once in his life, the Earl determines that the two shall not only be married but that that institution will be celebrated as the biggest event in the British Isles. Although his wife, the Countess (Lady Tree) is delighted with the result, the utterly confused mother is faced with the problem of so many people crowded into her palatial estate, that she doesn’t know what do: “They’ve already removed everything but his drawers,” she observes at one point, suggesting that her husband has been undressed down to his pants, when she means, obviously, that the furniture has been completely removed from their suite to accommodate their guests—a comic gesture surely tame by today’s standards, but quite risqué, surely, in its day.

     Invited to be, yet again, the best man at this wedding—a role that obviously Buckminster has played throughout his dapper youth—he goes down his grandmother’s list of prospective wives, serving as a kind of mad matchmaker, connecting impossible women such Audrey Ferraby, for example, who has a nose that comes “straight down from the Conqueror” (“I know it does, darling, but, well, it comes down such a long way,” responds Buckminster), and a boring woman who is related to the Plantagenets (“But that was so long again that you really can’t blame them.”), with equally unmarriageable men. Clearly, the clever Buckminster has found his natural calling.

     Even when the entire wedding affair is threatened by the young commoner mens’ inability to omit the “obedience” clause from their marriage vows, and the twins are equally offended by their would-be husbands’ stubbornness, the bachelor Buckminster intercedes, like a mad costume designer, suggesting they wear daisies and long “Victorian-like dresses” to please their male counterparts. It works, and the wedding is on again.



       In the process of his “Miss Lonelyhearts” existence, however, Buckminster encounters yet one more unhappy woman, his grandmother’s secretary, a long-time acquaintance, Miss Hutchinson (Merle Oberon), who is also in tears about a man she loves who doesn’t seem to recognize her existence. “Look him in the eyes," he consuls, and tell him how you love him. When she does so—obviously it is he whom she loves—he melts, realizing that the perfect necktie, which he has argued that all men seek, is this woman; his crazy matchmaking antics end, much like Dolly Levi’s in Thornton Wilder’s The Merchant of Yonkers and Jerry Herman’s later Hello, Dolly!, as he has finally found his “home.” 

      Of course, the conventions of the time demanded that the unmarrying bachelor had, like Henry Higgins of My Fair Lady, to find his “woman” before play’s end, even if we know that his marriage to Hutchy will merely be one of convenience. They’ll both now be rich and live happily ever after, so who cares whether or not they sleep in the same bed? One of the Countess Buckminster’s early complaints in the movie, when attempting to find room for all of her guests, is that no couple any longer sleeps in the same room.

      Marriage is a symbolic necktie in Korda’s comedy, not a truly physical intermingling of identities we often presume it is.

 

Los Angeles, May 3, 2017

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (May 2017).


Paul Czinner | Der Geiger von Florenz (The Fiddler of Florence) aka Impetuous Youth / 1926

a fiddler in his bedroom

by Douglas Messerli

 

Paul Czinner (screenwriter and director) Der Geiger von Florenz (The Fiddler of Florence) aka Impetuous Youth / 1926

 

Born in Budapest, then part of the Austria-Hungary Empire, Paul Czinner was educated the University of Vienna where he studied Philosophy and Literature before turning to film.

     Czinner was first married to actor Gilda Langer, who died of the Spanish influenza in 1920.

    His first film was the silent feature Homo Immanis (1919). By 1922, however, he was working in Germany on Victim of Passion, and soon after begin filming with actor Elisabeth Bergner on his first successful film, Husbands or Lover (1924); in that film she plays the bored wife of the then well-known actor Emil Jannings.


    His next film, fashioned as a vehicle for Bergner, was Der Geiger von Florenz (The Fiddler of Florence) of 1926, the film I review in this essay.

     Although Czinner was homosexual, he developed a close working relationship with Bergner, and the couple were eventually married. He made several films after in Germany, but by 1929, after the Schnitzler-based novella Frãulein Else, the couple who were both Jewish, faced with the rise of Hitler, left for England in 1933 where they remained for several years before emigrating to the US in 1940, where he worked for a while on Broadway. After World War II, they returned to England where he continued to make films.

     Given Czinner’s sexual orientation, it is not surprising that The Fiddler of Florence and his 1928 film Dona Juana both feature Bergner playing gender-bending characters, wherein the actor is asked to perform as young boys.

       In fact, Bergner, if you use your imagination, allowing a long, curly-headed hairdo to be that of a long-haired Italian boy, is fairly convincing, despite a costume that doesn’t entirely hide her breasts, one commentator suggesting that it was purposeful so as not to allow the film to become too homoerotic. Yet the young violinist the painter (Walter Rilla) discovers in an Italian bordertown road and impetuously takes home with him, does indeed send him into a spin and before long begins to confuse him severely as he increasingly feels attracted to the boy he has successfully captured on canvas.


       In general, this film is a very Freudian work in which in the first few scenes Renée (Bergner) is jealous of the attention her loving father, Conrad Veidt, pays to her new stepmother (Nora Gregory). In these early scenes, Renée is somewhat of a brat as she continual attempts to take the attention away from her father’s new love, bringing to the table her own flowers and replacing them for those her stepmother has chosen, and during the meal gradually moving the vase over so that it stands between her father and his new wife, blocking out their views.

       Soon after, she feeds her pet dog scraps from her plate, while the stepmother’s better-behaved pooch is allowed to sit beside her owner’s feet, while Renée’s father orders his daughter’s dog removed. The dogs eventually begin to fight, causing a huge row in which Veidt’s character, in attempting to separate the two fighting dogs, gets bitten.

        Angry with her behavior, her father retreats to a streetside bench to think matters over, his new wife soon joining him, again convincing the girl that her father no longer loves her.


        In a third instance, while seemingly trying to be agreeable, Renée tastes her stepmother’s new punch, suggesting further ingredients which seem to please both of them. And while they continue tasting the brew they both become slightly inebriated and begin to dance giddily together. But the father/husband enters the room, both women run up to him offering him a glass of punch. When he takes the glass his wife proffers over his daughter’s she angrily throws the punch at her stepmother.

       It has become clear that there is no choice but to send Renée away to a Swiss boarding school. And from there, after she gets into further troubles, she finally escapes to Italy.

       In her new home with the painter, the boy-child delights in the attention she is given, quickly falling in love with her new mentor. But just as with her own behavior previously, so does his sister Grete become jealous of the intruder, behaving in several instances similarly to the way Renée has previously treated her stepmother, at one time also throwing a glass of punch upon what she perceives as her rival for her siblings’ love.


       In this case, however, the sister obviously is not only jealous of the boy but confused and worried since she perceives that her brother gradually appears to be falling in love with the child. Rilla plays the character rather exaggeratedly to begin with, performing some scenes with slightly effected gestures that suggest gay behavior. We too become fascinated by his attraction to Bergner’s boy. Of course, Barbra Streisand in the 1983 film musical based on a story by Isaac B. Singer, Yentl will take up a similar situation, but in 1926 there had been very few films to engage its audiences with a developing relationship as the result of cross-dressing.  

     A film with a similar plot to this one appeared in 1914, Robert G. Vignola’s The Barefoot Boy, the director of that film also being a gay man. In that work, the central character was also a painter, who mistook a young girl to be a boy, with similar feelings of sexual attraction. Otherwise, only in the brief male-on-male cross-dressing kisses in Sigmund Lubin’s Meet Me at the Fountain (1904), the budding romance between the detective’s sister and the disguised female villain in Mario Roncoroni’s Filibus (1915), Buster Keaton’s confused attraction to Fatty Arbuckle’s nurse in Good Night, Nurse! (1918), the entire leadership of World War I’s attraction to Bothwell Browne’s drag character in F. Richard Jones Yankee Doodle in Berlin (1919), there were no real sexual interactions between those in drag and the others in the heteronormative world before this film.


     Rilla’s character is quite serious about his growing love and truly doesn’t know what to make of his feelings. In a crucial scene near the end, he discusses the issue in somewhat coded ways with the young boy he has taken into his household. “You bring me luck, our pictures has already been purchased,” he reports, a few minutes adding, “Du bist scheu wie en Mädchen,” “You’re as shy as a girl.” A short while later he goes even further suggesting, “Manchmal glaube ich das Du ein Mädchen bist.” “Sometimes I actually think you are a girl.” “...oft wünsche ich mir Du wärest en Mädchen!”; “...often I wish you were a girl!”

       And with that inferred statement of his love, Renée runs off in mad rapture, confusing him even further.

     Meanwhile the father has spotted the painting “Der Geiger von Florenz” reproduced in the newspaper, and believes it may be his daughter, a likeness his butler confirms. He quickly tracks down the address of the wealthy painter’s Italian villa and pays him a visit, explaining the situation.

       The painter’s sister concurrently visits the boy in his room, taking the opportunity to confirm her suspicions by suddenly grabbing the “boy’s” breast and discovering in the process that he is definitely female. In a very odd reversal of the entire controlled expressions of the previous days, the sister Grete suddenly grows almost giddy, holding the young female close to her, promising not the reveal the truth to her brother, and, just as the boy is called into the other room by the painter, suddenly kissing her full on the lips. Apparently an absolutely lesbian-like scene is permissible, but a kiss on the lips of a girl representing herself as a boy is verboten.


     So too, when the painter discovers the boy’s true sex, does he quickly grow extraordinarily physically familiar with her father, hugging him close while he begs for the girl’s hand in marriage. Indeed, if there seemed something a bit effeminate or simply exaggerated in terms of his gestures about the artist previously, he now nearly kisses Renée’s father, physically resisting the man’s attempts to search out his daughter. He sits at Veidt’s feel almost like an acolyte as they wait for the girl to enter.


       Only when Renée sees her father and runs to him, the two of them engaging in a series of deep hugs and kisses that might almost make one wonder about an incestuous relationship, does he back off watching the scene as a voyeur. Finally, the two having ending their reunion, the father hands his daughter over to the painter, as the two begin fighting over the lies that have been told and the secrets that have both held within. It finally takes the father to encourage them to kiss, ending the film on a joyful note.

       During all of this, moreover, we are quite aware, in hindsight, how Freudian this film is in relation to the director and his major actor. It must have truly delighted the gay man to be able to turn his future wife temporarily into a boy and imagine the joys in might feel making love to the young wild Italian fiddler.

     Czinner’s and Bergner’s marriage lasted the rest of their lives. And there is little gossip that I could find about Czinner’s gay life as he moved to England and the US. He did direct the bisexual actor Laurence Olivier in As You Like It, and obviously, the film and theater is filled with opportunities for continued gay experimentation. But like Cole Porter with his wife Linda, there was apparently deep love between them along with their differences in sexual behavior.

 

Los Angeles, May 7, 2022

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (May 2022).

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 ...