an imaginary conversation with the director
by Douglas Messerli
John Greyson (screenwriter and director), Glenn
Schellenberg (music) Zero Patience / 1993
I can just imagine the excitement John Greyson
may have exhibited to close friends in 1992 or earlier when he imagined making
a movie musical about AIDS. “Wow, what an idea,” a friend might have offered up
in encouragement for the ever-inventive mind of Canada’s premier LGBTQ
filmmaker, who had already made notable short films such as The Perils of
Pedagogy, Kipling Meets the Cowboy, Moscow Does Not Believe in
Queers and the feature film Pissoir.
But
Greyson would also have had a friend knowledgeable about musical theater who
might have reminded him that there already had been a musical about
AIDS, the moving trilogy of short works by William Finn and James Lapine In
Trousers (1979), March of the Falsettos (1981), and Falsettoland (1990),
gathered together for an off-Broadway premier as Falsettos just that
year.
“Oh, I know all about that,” Greyson responds, “but that’s just about an
ordinary queer, his lover, his ex-wife, and their confused son. The stars of my
musical are that great Victorian Sir
“Really?” a good friend perhaps queried. “You think you’ll find an
audience for that?”
“O, don’t worry,” I can hear Greyson joyfully proceeding in his
enthusiastic discussion. My real hero is the French-Canadian airlines steward
Gaëtan Dugas (Normand Fauteux).”
“Who?” his friends must have unanimously queried him.
“Patient Zero. You know, the guy who those hysterically stricken by the
AIDS epidemic convinced everyone was the beautiful boy who brought AIDS to
North America and through his shameless sexual activities in gay bath houses,
through bar pickups, and just general sexual mixing was responsible for
infecting half of the gay population before anyone even knew what the problem
was.
But Zero was only the fall guy, since we
now know AIDS was around decades before it first showed up in the tests in
1968—and was later found to be responsible for the death the St. Louis teenager
Robert Rayford infected in 1959—so in my film Zero will come back as a ghost to
clear his name and stop Burton, who miraculously is still living due to contact
with the Fountain of Youth, from
creating a museum exhibition featuring him in the Natural History Museum Hall
of Contagion.
My composer Glenn Schellenberg created a
great song for her, ‘Scheherazade,’ because everything about AIDS, after all,
is just a series of stories, the accusations that it is a ‘gay disease,’ the
refusal of governments to even believe in its importance or existence, and the
drug companies fibs told to explain the impossibly high prices they charge to
help alleviate the symptoms—when the pills work.
And obviously there have to be a whole chorus of ACT UP representatives
(Van Flores, Scott Hurst, Duncan McIntosh, and Dianne Heatherington) who help
make Burton see the error of his ways and protest the Gilbert & Sullivan
Drug Corporation who are sponsoring the “contagion” show.
“All right, all right, John, you’ve convinced us that you’ve truly gone
insane this time and are about to release a work so damn transgressive that no
one can possibly embrace it fully. The LGBTQ community won’t like it because it
brings up all those terrible accusations about AIDS being a gay disease, the
suggestion that it was transmitted to the North American populations by a gay
man, and reiterates the whole issue of their seemingly uncontrolled sexual appetites.
The ACT UP group is presented as a gathering of arguing people clinging to
their purpose until fallen by various cancers, blindness, and other symptoms of
diseases the body suffers when its immune system no longer can protect it.
And of course, the heteronormative society will detest your comic satire
of the medical, museum, business, and governmental establishments. And they’ll
be offended that, at moments at least, you seem to be taking the LGBTQ
community seriously.
And as for the film critics, certainly they won’t know what to make of
your strange mix of anachronistic characters, potpourri of genres, and various
levels of camp, vaudeville, and high school locker room performative humor. Are
you sure you want to make this film, John?”
Fortunately, Greyson stuck to his original
intentions, creating a work that spins in an orbit so akilter to all other
films that it rubs up against all conventions about AIDS and the stories we
have told ourselves to fall to sleep knowing of the horrible contagion that,
unlike the more recent COVID epidemic, still has no completely explicable cause
or cure.
There are parallels of course; COVID is believed by those who like to
imagine that all things bad come from a world outside of their own has come to
us from bats (or even unforgiveable medical-military experiments) in China; and
many who might die from the disease are still convinced that there is no
reliable vaccine to protect them from its ravages. But, at least, COVID is
recognized as an equal opportunity killer, and not perceived as being
mysteriously transmitted only by perverted homosexual opportunists who stand
against every moral fiber of heterosexual normalcy.
But through his unorthodoxy Greyson is able to ask enough questions that
force any intelligent viewer of his movie to reconsider everything, including
the fantastical explanations of our sexual
Zero
Patience, just as its title proclaims, will have no truck with those who
cannot cry and laugh at the very same moment. And if you can’t possibly imagine
a ghost popping up to give you a good boner, then you haven’t seen Fauteux as
Zero, the beautiful hero happy suddenly to disappear from the screen.
Greyson’s works are almost always a theater of contradictions, effusive
and spare, visually colorful and bland, absurd and fiercely logical all at the
very same moment. Although he permits a sensitive viewer to enjoy and even love
his zany images and narrative illogic, there’s no possibility of getting too
attached to what he’s representing or becoming sentimental over any of the
multitude of messages the film delivers up. The villains win hands up, while
those who honestly seek out the truth inevitably lose the battle. Yet a work
like Zero Patience is still so celebratory that you simply have to give
credence to its creators’ moxie.
Los Angeles, October 25, 2021
Reprinted from World Cinema Review (October 2021).





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