Mikael Bundsen | Involuntary Activist / 2019 [TV video]

a name is never just a name

by Douglas Messerli

 

Mikael Bundsen (teleplay writer and director) Involuntary Activist / 2019  [20 minutes] [TV video]

 

The short Swedish TV video by Mikael Bundsen, released in English, is a revelation of how LGBTQ individuals continue to be asked to deny even the small and larger achievements the gay international community has made over the past several years.

     Openly gay teacher, Aled (Rick Yale) who lives with his husband and their daughter, is suddenly told by the principal of the school in which he teaches that “Gay Pride Day” will this year be called “Friend’s Day.” It appears that several parents called and emailed angry messages when, the previous year, it was named “Gay Pride Day.” A name is just a name, argues Fiona (Suzanne Packer). But, of course, it isn’t just a name or even a small name change, but a vast capitulation to those who would do away with any way in which queer people, and in their case gay and lesbian students might openly celebrate their own existence. Aled is outraged; his principal insisting that she will not change the name back.

     As if that weren’t enough, Aled’s sister Jody (Eiry Hughes) arrives back in Sweden from her new home in Turkey. Her visit concerns her upcoming wedding with a Turkish citizen Hakan, and at the dinner table, after discussing the matter over with Aled’s husband Jonathan (John Patridge) she announces to her brother that Jonathan will not be able to attend the wedding. Her argument is that his presence as the gay lover of her brother might cost her job or even effect Hakan. After all, Turkey is not as open about homosexuality as Sweden. In short, she is asking Aled to return to the closet for her wedding, to celebrate the event as someone else.

     The double whammy of two such conciliatory demands about the possible offense his private sexuality might cause others, is just too much for Aled to bear. What no one but he seems to realize is that his reaction is not a political statement as much as it is a personal cry for people to stop accommodating those who are remain homophobic. Accommodation stands in the way of further acceptance and open-mindedness. What the film itself suggests, but doesn’t fully express, is that every time an LGBTQ person is asked just for the day to “pretend” that he is someone else, to not express his sexuality openly, to not dance or kiss in public for fear of offending someone, is a step back for the entire community into the dark days of sexual bigotry and self-hatred.

      Aled decides he simply will not attend his sister’s wedding. But when Jonathan begs him to go, reminding him that his own family will not even talk to him and, at least, Aled’s family are loving and caring, and, perhaps more importantly, will serve as family also for their daughter, Aled gives in and uncomfortably attends the Turkish celebration without his partner.

        Back home, however, even his students rebel when he attempts to quell their frustrations for having had their “Pride Day” changed to being a celebration of “friends.” Unfortunately, we don’t know how Aled worked to change the principal’s mind and get the name changed back, an incident even she publicly applauds him for in front the of the student body. But clearly, in this instance Aled stood his ground, while having to swallow that same pride for his own family.

        I remember many such events from my own life, moments my parents, were they alive today, would surely not even recall or comprehend how much they hurt at the time. One such incident occurred was when I returned to their home of one my several visits without my own husband, at that time a companion of over 20 or 25 years. My parents had decided to have a group family portrait taken, which included both my siblings, and both my brother’s wife and my sister’s husband and their several children. Only Howard was missing. He had long ago ceased accompanying me on such trips, feeling unwelcome in their home. But even worse was the moment my father took me aside, whispering, “You don’t need to tell the photographer that you have a partner.”

      I hadn’t even thought of speaking to the photographer, let alone discussing my personal life with the man. But after my father’s comments I felt I had only two choices, leave their house at that very moment, which I probably should have done, or shout out the moment the camera’s shutter snapped, “It’s too bad Howard is missing in this picture!” I am sure my entire family felt that I was being stubbornly political by expressing that fact, was sharing with an outsider something they would rather I had not. But my comment was not intentionally political but a personal cry for the silence be broken forever.

      Bundsen’s film is one that surely resonates for the LGBTQ community while leaving heterosexuals even more confused about the gay friends’ and relatives’ sensitivity about the issues it raises. The trouble is that a name is never just a name, but a signifier that stands for or against all the other names LGBTQ individuals had to suffer through their youths, the Trump-like wall of abuse which Aled students kick apart in their Pride Day celebration. 

 

Los Angeles, April 16, 2023

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (April 2023).