giggling and gurgling for joy
by Douglas Messerli
Roger Stigliano’s 1989 film Fun Down There is one
of the least ostentatious gay films I’ve ever encountered. There is only a bit
of nudity, and only one sexual coupling represented. Yet in its simplicity,
this small film tells us more about a young man’s introduction to the intense
world of New York City gay life than
most movies hoping to wise us up by drawing us into the bars, back rooms,
docks, and alleyways of that city.
Strangely, it
reminds me a great deal of my own experiences upon arriving in New York,
although I was not quite the total innocent and virgin that the “hero” of this
work, Buddy (Michael Waite) is. But like
Buddy, I was greeted into the gay community with mostly friendly words, open
arms—and beds.
Actually
Buddy, who meets his future employer, an East Side restaurant owner, at a party
to which Joe invites him. Apartment parties are always difficult to portray in
movies, as individual behavior becomes public and group dances within small
confines always seems a bit dangerous and clumsy. Here, at least, instead of an
intense room of boys on the make, Buddy encounters a mixed group of employees
from Greta’s (Gretchen Sommerville) bar and restaurant.
After a rather
marvelous vocal rendition by Greta’s bartender of a song in both French and
English by Edith Piaf, Buddy encounters a friendly girl, Sandy (Yvonne Fisher)
—a waiter in Greta’s restaurant—who takes a liking to him and suggests he might
be able to get a job there.
In the
kitchen he meets Angelo (Martin Goldin), who at this point is still a minor
character who keeps trying to tell the same story over and over, and the
restaurant’s cook who Greta describes as the funniest man alive. Unfortunately,
the cook’s campy renditions of Bette Davis playing Blanche DuBois and other gay
favorites is truly awful. And any spell he may have woven for his fellow
restaurant workers is broken when Buddy blankly enquires, “Who’s Blanche DuBois?”
Buddy, we
immediately recognize—particularly after the picture’s early scenes filmed in a
truly rural suburban house with the actor’s real mother and father, I presume,
playing his cinematic parents—that Buddy is a true country rube, in the best
sense of that word. Having been born and raised in upstate New York where he
worked as a kid in Pizza Hut and as a young man on a dairy farm, Buddy (whose
real name is Edward Fields, but has been called simply Buddy at home apparently
since he was a kid) is so refreshing to these slightly savvier New Yorkers
because of his true lack of any pretension.
In some respects,
Buddy is another version of Jerzy Kosiński’s Chance (Chauncey Gardiner) in Being
There, a kind of Christ figure beloved by all who meet him because of his
simple belief in the goodness of the world.
When offered
a job as a dish washer (washing dishes the old-fashioned way with no fancy
restaurant dish-washing apparatus), Buddy is delighted. He now has a place to
sleep, new friends, and a low-paying job to keep him from going hungry. One
almost expects him to sing out “Who could want anything more?”
Yet he gets
it more than any might expect—that is love and caring attention not only from
Joseph—who also dresses him up some of his old clothes—but from Angelo who
first bends to kiss him in the restaurant storeroom before inviting him out for
a day on town. The wonderful long strolls they have through Chinatown, Little
Italy, and the derelict industrial wastelands near the ocean are presented as
almost a documentary work within the larger documentation of Buddy’s adventures
in the city. And suddenly we discover a now nearly disappeared city through
Buddy’s eager eyes.
It’s not
that Buddy is particularly handsome. In fact, his rather rail-thin body topped
by his buzz cut hair with an earring in his ear thanks to the piercing his
sister gave him just before his departure, might almost be described as gangly,
an assemblage of skin and bones that can apparently never get enough food to
properly flesh out. Indeed, in several scenes Buddy endlessly stuffs himself
with pastries, sandwiches, and other foodstuffs as if he were imitating Harpo
Marx enjoying his meal in Room Service.
Buddy
is fairly well endowed as we observe when he masturbates in the very first
scene of the movie. But it is not Buddy’s body that attracts the boys, as much
as is his absolute delight in sharing that body with others, his almost
child-like revelry as he rolls across the bed completely hidden under the
covers.
If Joe can
hardly wait to get his hands on his new friend’s penis, Angelo shows him how to
enjoy the slower process of sexual titillation. Both advise him carefully on
what kind of sex, in the worst days of AIDS, is permissible and what is verboten.
But their conversations are not expressed as statements of fearful warning as
much as out of a gently expressed sense of caution.
“Angelo is immediately taken with Buddy and begins to
pursue him sexually. Many other films, especially ones with a heteronormative
story-line, would use this as dramatic tension, creating a love triangle
between Buddy, Angelo, and Joseph, yet Fun Down There does not do this.
Instead, it allows Buddy to explore his attraction to both Angelo and Joseph
without it causing tension. Joseph even urges him to go out with Angelo and see
how it goes, knowing at the end of the day, Buddy will come home to him. It’s still
radical to depict a couple who is non-monogamous on screen, and to do it so
calmly is unheard of.”
Anyone, and
obviously there are numerous such voices, who describes New Yorkers as rude and
unfriendly must be a tourist. If Buddy is an example (and my own experience
upon arriving there in 1969 was similar) the gay community of New York was, if
it is not still, completely welcoming, friendly, and encouraging. After all,
most young New Yorkers have come there from their own not-so-friendly hometowns
to experience the “fun down there” that the LGBTQ community offers.
Even if Buddy
were to be seen as an exception, it proves my point. In 1989, at least, this
was still a society that recognized the innocent pleasures of sex as a
blessing.
We can only
imagine that if we tuned back into his life a few months or years later we
might hardly recognize him. But that is the utter charm of this Teddy
award-winning motion picture,* it is not the story about a life but about an
episode recounting a gay man’s coming into being, a coming out for a boy so
honest to himself that he never truly knew that there was a “closet” in which
he might hide.
And in that
respect this is a gay movie that every young person suffering not only
homophobic bullying but who fears what participating in LGBTQ sex might mean
for his or her own lives or have limited notions of what that world embraces
should be required to watch Fun Down There instead all those dreary high
school cinematic manuals expressing the facts and dangers of sex. If Buddy is
right, it’s fun to find a place where you can share experiences with new
friends along with the open joy of sex; in fact, it might even tickle the hell
of you as it does for our dear friend.
*This prize is given annually by a jury of the Berlin
International Film Festival for the best LGBT film.
Los Angeles, November 6, 2020
Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog and World
Cinema Review (November 2020).



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