Sunday, June 22, 2025

Yarne Van Elsen | Silent Secrets / 2024

double confession

by Douglas Messerli

 

Yarne Van Elsen (screenwriter and director) Silent Secrets / 2024 [13 minutes]

 

It seems almost unbelievable that the well-worn genre of the “coming out” film, version B, has not lasted for about has now lasted for about 25 years. And it seems almost impossible that anyone could make a new rendition of it that is as excellent at the very earliest such films, Get Real and Edge of Seventeen, both from 1998.

    Belgian director’s Yarne Van Elsen’s version is a slimmed down and now rather predictable telling, although it is amazing how emotionally fulfilling the genre still feels, perhaps because in each generation most of the gay young men and women still must “come out” to friends, parents—and most importantly to themselves.


     In this case a young teen (in almost all such tales that young male is around 17 or 18) Beau (Stijn Van De Bloock) is secretly in love with his best friend Liam (Cédric Galle). Liam, however, despite his loyalty to Beau, appears to be straight, freeing him from the constant bullying of the school “gay bashers” led by Rick (Jarne Van Wemmel), who have targeted Liam simply because he proclaims to be an artist (from the look of his drawing of Beau, he has a long way to go).

    Just when the two seem most to be enjoying each other’s company, the bullies enter in, in one case taking Liam himself temporarily away as they claim him to be “one of them.”

     Liam tries to convince Beau just to ignore them, but it’s difficult when they manhandle him and his drawing book, often tossing his other books to the ground as well; and it’s always easier, no matter how much you love the other, to look on than to be the actual subject of the attacks.

     At one point, Beau even tries to tell Liam of his feelings, but Liam himself interrupts with the deadly observation that “after all, we’re just friends.” Clearly Beau was hoping to take their friendship to the next level.

     Finally, frustrated by his inability to verbally express his love to Liam, Beau pens a letter to his friend, which is easily discerned by the bullies, who not only read his pained private epistle, but disdainfully hand it over to Liam to read.

     With this action, the teen finally snaps, racing to a highway overpass to throw himself off, Liam following him and begging him to come down, in the end pulling him off the railing of the overpass which Beau has begun to climb.


     This time, however, Liam finally admits that that “he cannot live without him,” and that he “loves Beau” just as much as his friend loves him, a sudden and rather late outing for Liam, who seems only to have been able to fully realize his full feelings when he is about to lose his friend.

      There’s nothing utterly new here, but the very survival of the battered genre represents its power to still communicate to members of the queer community, making it surely one of the most useful cinematic and literary forms for representing the angst of young primarily gay boys (lesbians seldom have appropriated this genre, although in 1995 lesbian Mitch McCabe in her documentary Playing the Part almost played out what would have been the first of this genre, had she not backed out of her intentions to actually tell her family of her sexual orientation.)

      Surely, however, we keep hoping that someday people won’t have to wait until 17 to declare their sexual feelings, but comfortably live with them, along with family and friends, from the first age of discovery.   

 

Los Angeles, June 22, 2025

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (June 2025).

 

Ell Mazer | Golden Goose/ 2023

sweet teeth

by Douglas Messerli

 

Addie Atwell and Wes Malmont (screenplay, based on a story by Ryan Lasky), Elle Mazer (director) Golden Goose / 2023 [21 minutes]

 

Atlas (Thomas Robie) is a handsome young gay boy, ready to rise and enjoy each day, despite the fact that he is hooked up to an oxygen tank and, as we soon discover, has a cancer for which there is no cure. He runs a candy shop for his father, working as the front man and cashier for 4 years.


     Dalton (Spencer Marsten) is a totally disorganized and sleep-in fellow, who has to be reminded to seek out and pay his bills. He does just that one morning—the morning which begins US director Elle Mazer’s Golden Goose—stopping by the candy store after, at the very moment Phil has just dropped a display bowl of Golden Goose candy bars. Dalton purchases a bar of that very candy, the first sale of that brand, notes Atlas, since he’s been working there, although it is his own favorite as well.

     From the quick glance of Dalton’s eyes of Atlas’ Rainbow pin (“Love Is Love”) and the black nail paint of his own hands hints they also have something else in common.

     By the time he gets home, however, Dalton is furious, having lost his billfold somewhere along the route of his morning activities. Fortunately, Atlas brings the wallet Dalton left on the candy counter. Although Dalton is somewhat appreciative and certainly relieved, he wonders why Atlas hadn’t just called, and when Atlas suggests that he’s got a nice place, he slams the door in his face.

      His behavior gives him (and the movie) the opportunity of his returning to the candy store the next morning to apologize, explaining that the chaotic look of the place of which Phil got a look “freaked him out.” On top of that, he explains, he has just lost his job on account of “customer abuse” despite the fact the owner knew he was his best employee, hinting that he may have been fired because he was gay.

      Atlas seems interested and empathetic despite the fact that he only has worked only for his dad—the very idea of which Dalton perceives as a nightmare, but which Atlas explains has been fine, his dad being a sympathetic being. Clearly in asking for Dalton more about his awful bosses, he is pumping him for more information in order to get know to boy better. But when Atlas’ dad appears, Dalton is about to leave until Atlas, and then his father, both invite him for dinner.


     At dinner, Dalton reveals more to Atlas’ father (Howard Brennamen) than he does to his new friend, particularly regarding his estranged relationship with his own father and mother. When after dinner in his bedroom, Atlas announces that he has a song he thinks Dalton will like, the other boy challenges him, “How do you know what I might like?” Atlas answers, “Well, look at you,” finally opening up what Dalton has evidently thought of as a secret.

      Of necessity, many gays have developed their skills at noticing small details about other individuals that is often described as “gaydar,” but actually consists of just the endless tiny clues the other intentionally and unintentionally offers up as evidence of his sexuality. It helps to explain why dress and grooming are so important for gay men: their “look” is crucial in defining their identity.


     Soon these boys are best of friends, even talking about getting together for a concert. But a call from Dalton’s father again shifts the tone, and he feels compelled to leave, Atlas’ father inviting him back anytime he wants.

      Back in the store, this time with Dalton looking for jobs, a young girl and her father stop in. When the girl asks what’s on Atlas’ face, he explains it’s hooked up to the oxygen tank to help him breath. When she asks why he needs help to breathe, he explains he has cancer. And suddenly the father breaks in, talking emphatically about his uncle’s cancer and the last weeks being “so brutal” etc.

     Even though, back at Dalton’s house, the host announces that he bought some new records, including an album by “The Smiths,” Atlas is clearly depressed. When Dalton asks if was the questions the little girl asked, Atlas angrily responds, no it was her father. “No one can shut up about this thing. Wherever I go, it’s ‘Oh, I’m so sorry. That must be so hard, and blah-blah-blah.’ …What’s even their point. I know I have cancer, and I know it fucking sucks. You don’t have to remind me every 10 seconds. I have so little fucking time left to live, and I don’t want to spend the rest of my goddam life being warned like I’m already dead.” He’s also just been to the doctor who suggests he doesn’t have long.

     Dalton puts on a record by “The Smiths” and they dance, the rest of the film showing them living out the last days of Atlas’ life—until suddenly he disappears from Dalton’s side.


     The film ends with Dalton working at the counter of the candy store, hugging Phil, obviously the symbolic replacement of his son.

      Although the film involves a growing love relationship between two gay boys, its real subject concerns how does one wanting to live a full life respond to the knowledge that he’s soon to die, another of the new breed of films that assumes its characters’ homosexuality while focusing on other aspects of life and love. The only trouble with this work is that, a bit like its central location, it is too sweet and predictable to be truly believable. Would that all young gay men dying of cancer should stumble across a fellow “Grey Goose” afficionado who gently helps them to die with grace and love.

 

Los Angeles, July 25, 2023

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (July 2023).

Adante Watts | Just Friends / 2023

hot cookies

by Douglas Messerli

 

Adante Watts (screenwriter and director) Just Friends / 2023 [5 minutes]

 

Two cuties, Riley (Jack Caron) and Skye (Nicholas Di Prima) are baking cookies in Riley’s kitchen. But both are clearly frustrated. Riley is insistent that they should be “just friends,” evidently to cover over the fact that Skye truly wants a gay relationship with him.


    As Skye suggests, Riley is willing to go through “all the hoops” necessary to hide the fact that what he really wants, deep down, is sex with Skye. And as Skye explains this to Riley, he moves closer and closer, clearly seducing his wide-eyed and terrified, would-be closeted friend.

     But at the very moment, he backs off, toying with the now very convinced Riley, arguing that perhaps Riley is right after all. He can respect his decision if he wants to remain “just friends.” He walks off.


     There’s not much else to Adante Watts’ short, 5-minute film, but a certain future of seeing the boys wind up in bed—unless Riley is even more fucked up and confused about sex than the beautiful handsome boy sitting on the kitchen counter still waiting to be kissed appears to be.

     Perhaps if the director had explored simply the next 10-minutes of Riley’s life we’d learn something deeper about how confused closeted kids finally recognize that it’s time to make a decision, desire winning out over illogical reasoning. But this film is just a tease.

 

Los Angeles, July 24, 2023

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (July 2023).

Keith Goh Johnson | Little Lies / 2012

three suicides

by Douglas Messerli

 

Keith Goh Johnson (screenwriter and director) Little Lies / 2012 [15 minutes]

 

In this moving but also somewhat confusing short by Australian director Keith Goh Johnson, the central character Phillip (Dominic McDonald) has just long his partner Marcus of 20 years, in reaction to which, half-drunk and filled with grief, he hires a male prostitute, Tyler (Andrew Steel).

    In most such movies the “rent boy,” while he may be dangerous, is basically perceived as intellectually impaired. In his outward behavior, Tyler certainly matches the type but this prostitute is also clever, curious, and assertive.


   While Tyler showers in preparation for sex, we hear Phillip talking, clearly with Marcus’ family, about the fact that he will not be invited to the funeral itself, but will be allowed to attend the burial after, another blow to the already aggrieved lover.

     But through Tyler’s probing’s we soon after discover, according to Phillip, that Marcus had committed suicide, while the prostitute is convinced that Phillip actually “did him in,” in reaction to which the survivor races from the house, Tyler chasing after, and strips naked in an open park clearly visible to all. We cannot quite glean Tyler’s reasons for his conclusions and his sudden accusations, nor for that matter do we quite comprehend the supposedly innocent Phillip’s seeming over-reactions.



     But there are little signs that Tyler picks up: the fact that the two fought through most of those 20 years,* Tyler presuming that such a relationship cannot go on. Moreover, when he later asks Phillip, “Did you love him?” the survivor answers somewhat vaguely, “Yes, I mean, love’s never what you think it’s going to be, you know. There’s one thing that is certain though, the first time I ever saw Marcus, he was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.”

     Was he jilted, was Marcus simply a bore, or was it simply erectile dysfunction, Tyler demands to know.

     Tyler, moreover, has his own story about a teen boy who, he argues, he tried to warn about going around shouting “I like cock.” The teen is severely beaten, all of his teeth now loosened. And soon after the boys hangs himself. We have to wonder, what was Tyler’s relation to the teen, what was his personal involvement? Why, indeed, is he telling, unasked, this story? Was he, perhaps, sans the morbid ending, the teen he is describing?

     In any event, we become convinced that, in fact, Phillip is not a spousal murderer. And eventually Tyler lures Phillip back into his own home, settling into bed with Tyler resting his head upon the elder’s chest rather like a father/son relationship.


      The camera suddenly reveals it is morning, with a wind-up Hawaiian dancer huluing-in the morning. Tyler, now alone in the bed, rises and switches the dancer off. But from the window of the second floor, he sees below Phillip’s body on the concrete lying apparently where he has fallen in his leap to his death. Might Tyler have been involved in this? His response is “Fuck me!”

      Now, all reality is open to question. Was Phillip lying or just in despair? We have no answers in a world trapped in “little lies” which add up to major deceptions.

 

*I must protest against Tyler’s perception. Many a relationship between two strong individuals is contentious. Howard and I, ourselves, might be described as what Jane Bowles described as a “quarreling couple,” who still also love one another after now fifty-five years. Those arguments, moreover, are also a way of releasing the tensions of all people who find themselves living together with another being after years of training to become oneself and live apart from the parental unit.

 

 

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

https://myqueercinema.blogspot.com/2023/12/former-index-to-world-cinema-review.html Films discussed (listed alphabetically by director) [For...