Monday, August 18, 2025

Brendan Leahy and Steve Grand | Time / 2015 [music video]

sweet lies

by Douglas Messerli

 

Brendan Leahy and Steve Grand (composers), Brendan Leahy (director) Time / 2015 [5.20 minutes] [music video]

 

Two years is a long time in the music business, and Steve Grand has moved a long way, lamentably one might argue, from his 2013 recording hit, All-American Boy in his 2015 single Time. The music and lyrics here seem as uncomfortably hitched to narrative as the 2013 work seemed a natural.

    This work is a vaguely country/western, but arguably more urban-based tale (some of it filmed clearly in Chicago) of finding deep love in the middle of nowhere (Lemont, Illinois) within only two hours before the next train.



    Unlike the figures in David Lean’s tearjerker film Brief Encounter, Grand and his lover (performed by Daniel Williams in the video) not only make the most of the time before the next train arrives, but find what seems like true love, moving in together and developing a close network of friends—even if the work ends with Williams alone in bed while Grand sleeps on the couch, a framed snapshot of the couple taken early in their whirlwind romance having been broken in a fight—a bad sign for their future.

     Grand has always been a master of winding narrative into music, but here I’d argue, the narrative is superior to the song itself, which we might describe as a song of denial, with a repeated chorus of “I don’t wanna know / I don’t wanna know/ I don’t wanna know.”

 

VERSE 2

 

You had me meet your friends

I never loved you more than when

we watched that game

back at Andy's place

 

pretending to give a damn

about coaches and quarterbacks

with your head in my lap

now who could blame me for that

 

steel eyes stealin' my heart

right from the start


PRE-CHORUS 2


 

And you were keepin me warm through those nights

where I left my life to the cold outside

you left your light on

oh you let me shine on

 

CHORUS 2

When time was on our side

You and I suspended in that warm street light

and if you ever figure out this life

keep tellin' me those sweet, sweet lies

cause I don't wanna know

I don't wanna know

I don't wanna know

 

    In his warm cocoon of lies and denial, we can imagine Grand will return to his lover’s bed. Yet somehow that possibility seems far less poignant than the young lonely boy rejected by his cowboy hero for a woman in All-American Boy.


    But perhaps I’m being too harsh. The critic for Album Confessions, Luis Gonzalez wrote:   

 

Time opens up with a soft piano intro, focusing all attention on Grand's seductively sweet vocal performance as he reminisces on a past relationship before the energy and instrumentals pick up pace for the soaring chorus. ‘When time was on our side, you and I suspended in that warm street light, and if you ever figure out this life, keep telling me those sweet, sweet lies, cuz I don't wanna know’ the artist sings with intense passion for his gender-neutral lover. Given Grand's coming out story, the song could hold many meanings depending on the listener.

   Grand is a talented independent musician, currently relying on no label for extra support. The 24-year-old is striving for perfection on his upcoming album, and is clearly achieving it. Time is a personal look into the artist's love life as a young adult. The song could be peeking behind the covers of a love Grand could not see as false, or it could be the fact he is the one leading his lover on. Either way, like most stories, it's a love that eventually leads to unfortunate heartache.”

 

   This song was released as a single along with his cover song of Elton John’s Bennie and the Jets. And in the same year as Time’s release, Grand took his LGBTQ activism further by traveling to Europe as an Arts Envoy of the Bureau of Educational and Cultural Affairs for the US State Department, his band promotion the cause in Austria; and later in 2015 he performed at Europride in Riga, Latvia.

 

Los Angeles, August 18, 2025

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (August 2025).

 

William Branden Blinn | Toeing the Line / 2013

touchdown

by Douglas Messerli

 

William Branden Blinn (screenwriter and director) Toeing the Line / 2013 [17 minutes]

 

William Branden Blinn’s 2013 short film, Toeing the Line begins with a heterosexual gathering of four friends, Zach (Jesse Pepe) and his long-time best friend, Lamar (D’Andre Lampkin), Lamar’s girlfriend Shawnee (Zondra Wilson), and Rebecca (Kristin Erickson), the later evidently Shawnee’s new employee and a married woman with children with whom Lamar is convinced that Zach is having sex just because she isn’t available. He seems to know his friend well, as we will discover soon.


    When the two women depart, Shawnee insisting she going “to get to the bottom” of why Zach and Rebecca have become such good friends, the conversation becomes more serious, as it also becomes apparent that Lamar has actually invited Zach to join them for their breakfast.

     The discussion begins with Lamar’s restatement that he knows what’s going on between Rebecca and Zach, despite Zach’s insistence that they are just friends. Had this short film continued in this manner, we might have imagined that we are entering soap opera territory, with more gossip to come.

     But soon Lamar gets to the “serious” business, which somewhat shocks Zach and rather startles us, given the social set-up at the beginning of this work. He wonders whether Zach would ever  “cross the line,” a term with which Zach seems to be unacquainted, and which he seems to imagine has something to do with his relationship to Rebecca. But Lamar insists that he figure out his meaning for himself, which Zach finally realizes means sexually crossing the line of gender.

     Lamar knows that Zach has regularly eyed him in the shower. And Zach is certainly acquainted with the fact that Lamar has had masturbatory sex with a mutual friend, Rankin since Rankin has told everyone about it, in particularly describing Lamar’s penis as being as the size of his forearm. Zach insists that every male is checking the other males out; it’s only normal.

     Although he’s a bit nonplussed that Rankin has evidently told “everyone,” he persists arguing that, in fact, that means Zach was interested.


     Zach, however, insists that not since he was 16 had he ever even imagined have sex with another male, and continues to find Lamar’s questions absurd. Lamar, on the other hand, is quite serious, insisting that Zach is now nervous about the whole subject and wonders why.

     Again Zach argues that he doesn’t care, with Lamar repeating, “But you did.”

     I was perfectly happy at just taking Rankin’s word for it and leaving it at that, alright?”

     “Yeah,” responds Lamar, “toeing the line.”

    Zach once more insists he doesn’t care, while Lamar thinks he does. And Lamar is interested in crossing the line again and can’t imagine anyone he’ rather do it with than his best friend, a kind of person who, unlike Rankin, wouldn’t talk.

    The conversation clearly makes Zach terribly uncomfortable, particularly that it’s been five years (Lamar argues it’s just been a little over 4 years) since he has called him.

     But Lamar makes it clearer by bringing up the fact that at a wedding party “last June,” when he had become drunk, Zach held his head as his friend puked in the toilet, then undressed him, leaving him naked, and put him in bed, crawling in beside him. “And I thought maybe you’d understand,” he concludes, referring again to his desires to “cross the line.” “Look Zack, I felt it too. It wasn’t like the others with you. It was different.”

      Lamar again asks if his friend has ever thought about it, but Zach denies it one more time, yet adds an interesting clause, “Not since then.”

      So he has thought about it. He is curious.

     “It’s not like I wanted to actually to do something about it,” he insists.

     “Why?” Lamar asks. “Let me get this straight. It’s okay to peg a married woman, but it’s not okay….” Zach interrupts again with a denial which Lamar adamantly ends with his words: “I know you are.” Lamar takes it one step further, asking “You sportin? Now, right now, you sportin one?”

      Zach is now truly defensive, answering in the negative and wondering if Lamar is, Lamar going so far as to reach over to feel his crotch, Zach immediately standing up and turning away before clumsily returning to a chair at the small table.

      Lamar answers, “No, I’m not, but you are.”

      “Why the fuck you messing like that with me, man?”

      Lamar insists he’s not messing with him. “This is serious. Did you want me high school?”

      After a long pause, he admits, “Yes, yeah I did! You happy now?”

      He claims he didn’t “want” him, he just wanted to know whether his monster dick was as huge as Rankin said it was.

      Lamar, answers, “Well it is. By the way Zach, I wanted you to.”

      “So, why aren’t you sporting wood?”

      Lamar insists that he has to “make out” first before he can get an erection and have sex.

     Somehow through this rather inconceivable conversation, he convinces Zach to give it a try. We don’t know in which of their houses they choose to conduct the experiment, but Lamar insists he drive so that Zach, in retrieving his car, won’t get cold feet and run.


   Their sexual encounter is played out basically not in the nude, although after a long a kiss, they do partially pull their clothes down. But it is, nonetheless, one of the sexiest of gay love scenes I’ve watched for some time, both of them apparently ejaculating quickly simply by frotting, Zach laying across Lamar’s body as they both shudder in waves of release, the remnants of which we see later on Lamar’s belly.


     Both seem to agree that it was an amazing experience, and when Lamar asks Zach what he’s doing that evening, the previous denier insists that he’s not doing anything that he can’t change, clearly the two planning that to go much further “over the line.”

       For my tastes, the film could have stopped there. But Blinn takes it one step further, interrupting the credits with Shawnee looking straight at the camera to ask “He did what? I’m gonna kill Zach. You know what? I’m gonna kill Lamar.” Who told her about Zach and Lamar’s new relationship is not explained, and I don’t think it’s necessary reiterate what we already know, that both men’s straight relationships have come to an end.

       The question remains, was this simply a delayed coming out for Zach, Lamar having already evidently perceived himself as bisexual, or do some straight men actually “cross the line” from time to time, just out of curiosity? In this case their curiosity has appeared to have killed their heterosexuality; and we can imagine given Lamar’s after-sex declaration of “Wow,” blessed by Zach’s kiss, that they may live happily ever after as a gay couple.

 

Los Angeles, August 18, 2025

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (August 2025).

Robert W. Gray | Zack & Luc / 2014

generic gay relationship 101

by Douglas Messerli

 

Robert W. Gray (screenwriter and director) Zack & Luc / 2014 [15 minutes]

 

The first time I saw Canadian director and teacher Robert W. Gray’s short film, Zack & Luc, I thought it was basically trite. But knowing that he is a respected filmmaker and professor of film at the University of Brunswick, I gave the short a second and even a third try. It did appear somewhat more interesting, but then all films are more fascinating to me as I begin to look at them for other things than one attends to on first viewing, particularly when the first time around one is generally focused on plot.


     Fortunately, there is no plot, in the old-fashioned meaning of that word, in Gray’s movie. It begins in a single frame declaring a break-up of a gay relationship between two young good-looking boys, and ends with one of them (Ryan O’Toole is Zach and Greg Profit is Luc) leaving the car, breaking up the scattered moments of memories of what he early on describes as a cliché—all breakups of relationships appearing to those involved as clichés.



     What the rest of the movie attempts to do is to explore those very ordinary moments by splitting the screen and presenting at all times two views of each situation as the two go through very ordinary acts of getting on the bus each day to go to work or school; eating, reading, and just staring into space; sharing special moments as they look into a tree—one seeing a bird the other simply observing the tree itself; attending movies together; kissing; sharing park outings;  having sex; and finally arguing or ignoring one another, faces turned away or hidden behind a newspaper, or both sharing long rainy walks across a bridge to talk things out.

      Just like the rivets to this steel-girded bridge hold it up, so these moments are what make up any relationship. But each bridge is somehow different just as are relationships. And we can’t see the breakup coming except that one of them obviously can’t abide arguments, while the other more often pouts and pulls away, finally being the figure who leaves the automobile in which they sit at the beginning and the end of this relationship.


      But somehow, despite attending to these mundane actions three times, the movie didn’t convince me that their world ever rose above being anything but a cliché, not a cliché of a life together but the cliché of what a good-looking gay couple actually do together: walking in the rain, lying in the grass with one’s head upon the other’s chest, dining on a park bench on prosciutto and green olives, pointing out the planets and stars to one another, running, and biking. The only thing that seemed to be missing is a scene of the two pushing and shoving up against one another as they somersault and leap-frog through a park or walk somberly hand in hand along an ocean strand.

      Except for the scenes of them reading and pouting, eating and rubbing their bodies up against one another, I could only wonder where such figures’ real lives might have gone. What they do at work, if they work? Who are their friends, if they have any? Do they travel separately or together? What movies are they watching, what books are they reading? Did these boys have any political views and do they discuss them? Everything in Gray’s film looked like it came out a cinematic photo shop named generic gay relationship 101. And all of this wasn’t helped by the fact that the figures spoke their lines as if they were reciting the New York School poetry of the second generation, trying to remove any emotional content from their voices as they recounted “I did this, I did that.”

      Sorry, as pretty as the images were, they didn’t fully convince me that they represented a relationship let alone these young men’s lives.

 

Los Angeles, April 25, 2023

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (April 2003).

 

Julián Hernández | Nubes flotantes (Wandering Clouds) / 2014

head in the clouds

by Douglas Messerli

 

Julián Hernández and Sergio Loo (screenplay), Julián Hernández (director) Nubes flotantes (Wandering Clouds) / 2014 [14 minutes]

 

This film begins with Ignacio (Ignacio Pereda) joining his diving friend Octavio (Alan Ramírez) at the pool where Octavio climbs to the very top diving board and makes a brilliant leap to the blue waters below. His swimming friend, Manuel (Mauricio Rico) soon makes a similar, but not as spectacular dive, complaining of the pain he felt meeting up with the water, but Octavio praising his progress nonetheless.

      Throughout this early sequence, a narrator’s voice, presumably that of Ignacio, speaks of fear and hate in a kind poetic mishmash that presumably means to be a discussion of bullying and homophobia in general.


       For a moment Manuel appears to leave the picture, as Ignacio now undresses and jumps into the pool, declaring himself an “aerialist,” in this case using the term not to describe a tightrope walker or trapeze artist, but an underwater swimmer who moves in tandem with another—in this case with his buddy Octavio—in deep-water strokes that are both sensualist and sexy, the two ending in an underwater full-frontal meeting up of bodies.

       Unfortunately, the by now rather irritating voice-over continues in its somewhat poetic attempt to describe the feelings of joining with another in the patterned dance at the bottom of the pool. But soon, as they rise for breath, we can hear the taunts of Manuel, now returned to poolside. As Ignacio leaves the water, Manuel increases his bullying, mocking Ignacio’s underwater balletics and his apparent relationship with Octavio. As Ignacio attempts to fight back, a sense of violence increases as Manuel begins to slap Ignacio with a wet red bandana, moving toward him and finally pushing him into the pool. When Ignacio returns seemingly willing to fight, Octavio intervenes telling his diving buddy to stop, and moving over to hug and kiss Ignacio. When Manuel even increases his mocking and taunting, Octavio pushes the now fully-clothed diver into the pool as well.



      Inexplicably, Manuel suddenly seems unable to swim, and Octavio is forced to jump in and bring him back to the surface, blowing air into his lungs until he begins breathing again, both boys working on him until he becomes conscious. When he finally does return to normal, Manuel opens his eyes to see the two boys, seemingly acknowledging their presence, but says nothing as the film comes to its conclusion.

      Has he recognized the error of his ways? Do the two boys regret they having become involved in the violence he has sought? Has Manuel’s behavior arisen from a deep-hidden jealousy of Octavio’s relationship with Ignacio? Hernández provides no conclusions and doesn’t even seem to care to explore the real issues here outside of the text’s psycho-babble sounding statements such as “Where there is no fear there is no hate,” “I walk over the fear,” etc. It appears in this work the director is perfectly happy to keep his head in the clouds. I have to agree with what Letterboxd commentator Rick Powell wrote:

 

“I'm sad to say but after the triple-play masterpieces of the aughts, Mexican auteur Julián Hernández start[ed] sending out the cinematic equivalents of gay erotic greeting cards, complete with vague, schoolboy poetry, very pretty boys, and generous splashes of pretentious angst. Some memorable bulges, ripples, and belly buttons, but not much else.

     Estimable cinematographer Alejandro Cantú is out of his element here, too, unable to create a consistent or compelling style or thinking that a shaky shot with a long lens is somehow expressive. Compared to his glorious work with Hernández on Raging Sun, Raging Sky; and with Roberto Fiesco on Tremulo and David, where his circling, gliding camera seems to conjure the mood and the mise en scene out of nothing, his work here on Nubes Flotantes looks very-Vimeo.”

 

Los Angeles, August 20, 2022

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (August 2022).

Thanasis Neofotistos | Prosefhi (Greek School Prayer) / 2014

praying for what cannot be spoken

by Douglas Messerli

 

Thanasis Neofotistos, Katerina Pipergia, and Grigoris Skarakis (screenplay), Thanasis Neofotistos (director) Prosefhi (Greek School Prayer) / 2014 [20 minutes]

 

Thanasis Neofotistos’s Greek School Prayer is a slightly strange and intriguing short film from 2014 which concerns school bullying handled in a different manner from what we you see as the response.

      The beautiful boy Dimistris (Christos Karavevas) has apparently, even before the first scene of the film, been regularly bullied by Vassilis (Stelios Karambinas) and his basketball-playing friends and girlfriends.

      

     We witness none of this and very little bullying in the narrative itself, but we recognize Vassilis as the leader of a group who believe themselves the most popular figures in their high school who make life difficult for those around them.

       In the middle of the ball game, Vassilis offers the ball up to one of the players, clearly the least talented among them, and who clearly somewhat afraid of the boys with whom he’s playing. Amazed to have the opportunity to show any talents he may have, the boy shoots, but while he is doing so Vassilis pulls down his pants, resulting in guffaws by all the students around him.

        Every morning a different student is required to recite the morning Trisagion prayers (the school is evidently a religious institution), and while one of the nerdy boys obediently recites the prayer Vassilis or one of his friends throws a large paper sack at his head, everyone laughing in response.

       At another point on the bus trip on the way to school each morning, a good-looking girl enters at a stop and sits next to Dimitri. From the back of the bus Vassilis walks up asking her, out of the blue, whether she will go steady with his friend Pavlos. She tells him to get lost, but he persists, Dimitri also looking at him, astounded by his rude behavior. Vassilis snaps at him, “What’s your problem? You want to go steady with Pavlos?” The entire bus breaks into laughter.

        We finally come to realize, consequently, that his fellow classmates believe Dimitri to be gay, and the hostility he fears has to do with months or years of such verbal abuse.

         Yet, none of this seems to be the worst kind of abuse possible. And each day when the boys play basketball, Dimitri sits near on cement row of seats intently watching the game without speaking. When the others leave, Vassilis continues to play on along, lifting his shirt somewhat provocatively to reveal his naked chest as he wipes his eyes of sweat. Turning again and again toward the intently watching beauty in what can only be described as a homoerotic interchange. Certainly it is memorable to Dimitri since he repeats the scene in his mind a couple of times, once alone in his bedroom. But the subterfuge message is acknowledged, nonetheless, through Dimitri’s action of pulling on a green sweater immediately after the jock raises his green T-shirt to his eyes.


 

     The boys’ mutual actions might almost be described as a kind of come-on, a sexual challenge. But surely Dimitri is justifyably fearful that if he were to any way show any sexual interest it would be met by further verbal abuse or even violence. It is like a show-down between the two, Vassili doing a strange kind of sexual dance to engage Dimitri while at the same time challenging him to an unstated duel.

      For his part Dimitri, at home, has created a kind of sculptural voodoo-like installation, a ceramic schoolhouse for which he rolls out new figures from clay, paints them, and places them within the structure. We never see what he is doing with his “dolls,” but it is clearly rather ritualistic, and he won’t permit his mother to enter the room when she knocks.

       One day in the classroom while the history teacher recites boring facts, Vassili and his gang throw another paper object at a student, interrupting the teacher’s speech. Unable to find the culprit, he continues as Vassili quickly pens the words: I ♥ you, directed at Dimitri, who refuses to look  back. The teacher observing it sends the abuser to the principal’s office. And a day later we see the school principal with Vassili and two individuals we gather are his parents, all leaving the school. They shake hands politely, but once the principal has reentered the building, the father slaps his son and screams at him, the mother attempting to prevent further physical abuse, while he strikes him in the back again. We see, obviously, how Vassili came to be a bully; he has been bullied himself.


       Yet, none of this seems to move Dimitri who fears him, particularly since he has now been selected to recite the morning prayers.

        That morning on the bus, the young Adonis has pulled his lovely head of hair back into a bun. When called to recite, he doesn’t respond until finally he is pulled out of the line and brought to the front.

        Dimitri begins the recitation, but as he looks across the rows of students he observes some talking to others, still others chewing on sandwiches, and others completely oblivious to his painful recitation. In his imagination, they loudly empty the space, calling him “faggot,” “queer,” “wuss,” and other names as they depart.

       When the scene snaps back into real time, however, nothing out of the ordinary has occurred. He has finished his prayers without anyone mocking him. Vassili passes by on his way down the hall.

        But it almost as if Dimitri is disappointed by the lack of hostile response. He runs down the hall after Vassili and slightly pushes him, the taller boy turning back and putting his hand momentarily on his shoulder as he asks what the boy’s problem is.

       Vassili friends all scold him for what appears to be a gentle and perhaps just a little too long of a placement of hand upon the boy’s body, reprimanding him to not touch him, that he may be infectious etc. Vassili pulls away and begins up the stairs.

       But this time instead of meekly standing apart and away, Dimitri chases after him as he turns up another staircase just out of sight.

       Suddenly Vassili falls to the landing below in sight of the camera, evidently knocked out, Dimitri looking down at him from above, leading us to wonder if he has, in fact, pushed him.

       We might almost have imagined that the scene was another aspect of Dimitri’s imagination, but a few days later, as Dimtri sits in usual place watching the boys play basketball, Vassili finally returns, his leg is a cast.

        Several of his friends run over to great him, he responding, evidently to their questions, that the floor must have been wet and he simply slipped and fell; but soon another of the player’s curtly calls them back to the game. Obviously in Vassili’s absence a new “leader” has emerged.

        Vassili sits for a short moment or two on the sideline like Dimitri, but quickly signals over a young boy, either a freshman or perhaps even a grade school kid who’s watching the elders play. He quickly tells the boy that he’s been watching and liked what he’s seen, inviting him to join him in the game.

        The boy takes the hook, hardly believing his luck at having suddenly been befriended by Vassili. As they join the other players, their former leader asks them to pause to let the boy shoot.

         It seems like an unusual gesture from the bully, but perhaps he is also attempting to show Dimitri something, that he is not simply what his peer thinks he is. But when the boy misses the hoop by a mile, all laugh and engage with Vassili once again. Obviously it has been a ruse to gain attention, the only way Vassili survives in his fragile universe.


     As the game continues, Vassili turns and looks face at Dimitri, staring directly in his face, Dimitri intensely staring back, both with blank faces. It is perhaps another standoff, a show down with no action needed to make its point. But it is also clearly a calling out, a kind of cry for a relationship between the two of them than perhaps can never take place, a prayer that can never be answered.

 

Los Angeles, April 8, 2022

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (April 2022).

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...