Saturday, November 15, 2025

Lawrence Johnston | Night Out / 1989

monster of love

by Douglas Messerli

 

Lawrence Johnston (screenwriter and director) Night Out / 1989

 

Years before gay marriage, Australian director Lawrence Johnston’s film revealed that monogamous gay couples can live in as conventionally restrictive and deadening relationships as heterosexuals. In fact, if Johnston’s Night Out can be believed—a work I’d argue is as accurate about certain kinds of gay relationships as possible—it can be even worse.


     The film begins with Steve’s (David Bonney) birthday, a few friends gathered with his lover Tony (Colin Batrouney) in their house to celebrate. It is apparent from the first scene in the movie, where Tony intensely kisses Steve in the kitchen, that the couple are very much in love, even Steve admitting to a friend as he enters the other room that “I’m loved.”

     That same evening, however, Steve is heading off on a business trip for several days, suggesting that he’ll just get a taxi to the airport, while Tony insists that he drive him. But even as they say their goodbyes at the drop-off stand, we sense that Steve is uncomfortable about publicly expressing his love as he keeps pushing away his lover as he attempts to kiss him goodbye, finally breaking away so that he doesn’t miss his plane. Although this registers even on first seeing this work, one chalks it up to the times, when two gay men kissing in public was still not a common site, and made many of that and earlier generations somewhat uncomfortable. And with good reason; AIDS had quickly made gay men over into a new generation of freaks and monsters who some people feared carried disease that could spread even by sharing the same room, the same air.


     But there is a sense of dissatisfaction and loneliness about Tony, as, after returning home, he quickly dresses and goes out to a local bar for a few drinks. On his way home, however, he stops at what appears to be a series of semi-closed off spaces, perhaps part of the public bathrooms or just a sea-wall near the ocean, and there is fucked by a hot young man (John Brumpton). Their encounter is one of the hottest gay sexual scenes of 1980s filmmaking.


     Just as they finish up, however, they are attacked by a group of brutal gay-bangers, who corner Tony and beat him brutally. They also take him to automatic bank-teller, threatening him with further mutilation by knifepoint he doesn’t reveal his code. Tony finally does, but the machine seems to be out of order. And they throw him out of the car, stomping on his body again before speeding off. He spends most the of the night passed out on the streets and wakes up in a hospital, one of their friends from the night before visiting him.

     Tony is badly hurt, with deep cuts on both sides of his face, and serious wounds to his chest and neck. But his major concern is that Steve should not discover what he has done to end up in this situation. And when Steve returns, worried about his lover’s condition, Tony tells him that he’s simply been mugged on his way to a local grocer, and they’ve stolen his billfold and half-beaten him to death.


     But somehow, despite how clearly Tony is still suffering, Steve holds back his disbelief, continuing to make sense of the event. And when, a day or so, latter, the man with whom Tony had sex shows up to return his discovered billfold, it’s clear to Steve that his lover his not telling him the full story.



     When finally Tony reveals the truth, their relationship changes radically as Steve suddenly feels, somewhat rightfully, that he has been betrayed through Tony’s lies. But there is also a sense, as Tony himself puts it, as his having deserved the beatings and near-death experience he encountered. And Tony suddenly realizes that the intense love he has felt for Steve, the repeated intense kissing sessions have come primarily from him, that perhaps he has overwhelmed the other in a relationship that Steve has not totally wanted. It is suddenly as if all this time Tony realizes that he has been, a least symbolically, raping his friend. Steve even admits that he has difficultly expressing his feelings, that love as an act is not easy for him.

       What this dark drama begins to reveal is that Steve has never been the sexual being, the sensual gay lover that Tony as tried to make him out to be. His passiveness, his standoffishness, and even, one might describe, his prudishness reveals he is perhaps still not totally comfortable as a gay individual.


       The film ends with Steve taking off into the night on bicycle, following the same path his lover must have taken as he found his late-night partner who offered him what he cannot. There is much brooding and long determination of whether he can return to Tony or not. But the more terrifying scene is when the gaunt, almost Frankensteinian individual Tony has become turns his pale face in a silhouette for the camera: we suddenly know that the relationship is over, his physical needs having overpowered what his partner has been capable of. He has become the monster of his lover’s worst fears.

        This film, which was screened at the Cannes Film Festival, is perhaps one of the most significant gay dramas of the period, with also an incredible score which includes Liza Minelli singing Sondheim’s “Losing My Mind,” and songs by the Pet Shop Boys.

 

Los Angeles, September 4, 2023

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (September 2023).

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