family ties
by Douglas Messerli
Ben Lewis
(screenwriter and director) She Raised Me / 2025 [14 minutes]
We’re introduced to the rather sleazy Louie (Ben
Lewis) in the very first scene of this film, when he tells a young teenager in
a restaurant that he is so amazed and pleased that the young, good-looking
skinny kid (Denny McAulifee) has chosen him as his lover. Yet, almost
immediately he hints it’s time for the kid to leave as Louie’s current
boyfriend, the truly handsome Xander (Zane Phillips) slips into the booth
without noticing that his seat may be warmed up in his absence.
Louie, a would-be-playwright, attempts to
worm his way out of the meeting, wondering why this early in their relationship
he is being taken home to Xander’s mother, while, of course, wondering also how
he is now going to tell his hunk that he’s ready to dunk him for the skinny
teen. Nonetheless, after some heavy pleading, he agrees. But even at the
doorway to what appears to be the mansion in which Xander grew up, he consuls his
boyfriend that he can still bow out if he’s not up to the encounter, suggesting
that he is not really willing to support him in facing the ogre.
The minute
they enter the house, we hear the voice of the monster mother (Rosie O’Donnell’s)
greeting her son home. She’s in the kitchen with her assistant (Wendy
Benson-Landes) making lunch.
As the
camera reveals his mother, most of the film’s audience members surely suck in their
breaths a bit in shock as they quickly come to perceive the total absurdity of
this little comic farce, now ready for nearly anything that Canadian director
Lewis throws our way: the mother, we discover, is a famous puppet named Marilyn
Muff, known to children everywhere we are quickly convince, who has now become
a sort of gay icon, just like Rosie.
If we
expected Louie to be completely taken aback, well he is in fact, but not for
the reasons we might expect. Marilyn Muff apparently was his favorite childhood
figure, whom he idolized, demanding his parents gift him with the notorious
Marilyn Muff doll; but only his sister was awarded this prize, boys, so his
parents argued, were not permitted to desire such things.
In short,
he gets along quite wonderfully with the mother without even bothering to
wonder if someone on a string might not necessarily tie up her beautiful son in
knots. Within minutes Louis is sharing a glass of wine with Marilyn while he
recounts his childhood admiration and even suggests that he has a role for her in
one of his plays which might be perfect to a retired film and TV star.
Xander is
almost unable to believe that his ridiculous puppet mother, who has never been
there for him as we has growing up—how could she possibly feel any human
empathy for him when she is simply a cartoonish figure who shouts out motherly
platitudes?
The point
is that Louis, as Xander later puts it, is like nearly every other “fag,”
finding his diva in this case in a thing with strings attached.
In an
interview with Joey Moser in The Contending, the author explains the
metaphor of this short movie, reiterating that for him Rosie O’Donnell was one
of his brassy favorites:
“When I was
thinking what the movie was truly about, it’s really about loving the social
relationship between young, queer kids and their divas. I don’t think anyone
can claim to have raised more queen millennials than Rosie, especially given
the platform she had with her show and how she brought us Broadway shows. She
exposed a lot of queer culture to kids all over the world, and even though she
wasn’t out, it was very queer-coded. Her show was such a safe space for so many
kids, including myself. Rosie was the dream person to voice Marilyn–I never
thought in a million years that she’d say yes.”
Now
suddenly the affable Xander becomes a kind of toxic gay guy who, having felt
pushed aside as a child in respect to his mother’s career, is suffering meltdown
after meltdown. The very fact that Louie so idolizes his puppet mother, given
he’s so metaphorically tied up to her apron strings, is something that he can
hardly suffer.
And soon
after, in the car as they head back home he is furious with his boyfriend for
being yet another diva-stricken queer who has utterly no empathy with his
feelings of having to stake out a new life free of her entanglements.
What I
haven’t even mentioned, moreover, is that Mrs. Muff is a Muppet-like puppet, who
embodies an entirely different level of adoration in young adults who are of
Louie’s (Lewis’) and Xander’s (Phillips’) age. “Before Rosie, I was a diehard
Muppet kid,” Lewis explains in his interview with Moser.
Is it any wonder that when Louie senses that
his boyfriend is not at all about to allow him to revisit his mother, that he
feels he has no choice in such a dark comic fantasy world but to kill off the
perfect human companion, eviscerate his body and hack it up, burying it in bags
a bit like the villain of Hitchcock’s Rear Window just so that he can
get Marilyn to read his script.
All
right, he suffers for a while in a drunken stupor, but he soon comes out of it
and speeds on off to Marilyn Muff’s mansion.
From page
one, she’s ready to rewrite his play for him, mentioning, when he brings up the
fact that he hasn’t seen her son for some time, that he must just be in one of
his funks but surely he’s okay since he’s been using her credit cards as usual,
and called to say he was hiding out in the woods.
I can’t
wait for the revenge of the zombie gay hunk in part two of this “ridiculous
theater”-like gay horror farce.
Los Angeles, October 21, 2025
Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (October
2025).

















