Juan Sebastián Valencia | Kisses to Kevin / 2022

the route to a man’s heart

by Douglas Messerli

 

Juan Sebastián Valencia (screenwriter and director) Kisses to Kevin / 2022 [14 minutes]

 

Kevin (Michael Gould) is a little strange. He has several jars of buttons, beans, quarters, tiny doll-like ghost figures, etc. on the counter of his bed, an old Victrola in the corner, and plastic stars hanging from the ceiling. But the handsome young man is great in bed, as Sam (Mackenzie Rasmus) who’s just had sex with him makes clear in his concurrence with Kevin’s “wow”: “Wow indeed.” He’s been a little late in agreeing to join in sex with Sam, who apparently has tried to get him into bed for two years, Kevin believing that “your body shouldn’t be shared with strangers.” By this time Sam almost has become a friend. But now that he’s there, why does he want to leave so suddenly?    

     Sam is clearly one of the numerous “fuck ‘em and leave ‘em” kind of guys; as he puts it “I don’t date,” evidently meaning he’s interested only in one-night stands. Kevin tries to lure him to stay a little longer, having some fresh baked brownies he’d be happy to serve.

     Kevin is angered, however, that he thinks that just because he’s invited him for brownies that he’s inviting him to date! But Sam sees it as a healthy sign that he hooks up with a lot of guys  since he perceives himself as not being that sociable. Which is actually a perceptive realization since many gay men with constantly changing partners use sex as a substitute for true communication.

      Kevin also describes himself as “not that sociable,” but even his observation that if Sam leaves he will missing the best brownies in LA, with caramel and hot fudge, shows just how truly inviting his personality is, which Sam finds to be “really annoying,” as he leaps back into bed ready to wrestle his friend into another go-round. He suddenly pulls back, however, realizing that he is truly drawn back to Kevin. The two lay for a moment mulling the consequences.

       But Kevin can’t contain himself, “You want me to heat them up.” “Only if you have ice cream.” “I do,” which results in Sam’s confession that he’s obsessed with ice cream.

       Kevin leaves to bring back his treats, while Sam is left to take in the gestalt of the room, the mobile of colored star-like figures, the fan gently blowing, the jars of mementoes, a photograph of what must be Kevin as a child dressed up as a ghost. If the room is somewhat childlike, it is also charmingly expressive of the individual who lives there. Sam clearly finds it comforting and restful, as he nearly sinks back into sleep.

        At that very moment Kevin arrives with an absolutely stunning star-shaped brownie with a scoop of, we soon discover, homemade peach ice cream. When asked if he’s a professional, Kevin replies he’s always dreamed of one day opening a bakery. From Sam’s reaction, the taste must be as heavenly as it looks since the musical score suddenly sings out a chorus of sighs and exclamations.

       Sam finally talks, asking the obvious question, “If you’re not a baker what are you wasting your time at?”

       Kevin turns out to be a nurse, the same profession as Sam’s father, who met his mother as she was serving her residency as a doctor. He goes on to relate that they’re now retired and travelling.

       When Kevin asks what he does, Sam admits to being an accountant at SONY pictures, which truly impresses his bedmate, who suddenly pours out a series of questions from “can he go on tours at any time” and “what’s his favorite movie?”

        And Sam evidently has a favorite movie, actually from Columbia pictures (now a subsidiary of SONY), which, he reveals, was why he went into accounting; but when Kevin asks which movie, Sam suddenly grows quiet and repeats his routine of “I’ve got to be going.”

       “This was nice,” he reports after pulling on his pants, “Maybe I can be the accountant of your bakery one day.”      

     “I’d like that,” Kevin answers moving in for one final kiss, which Sam rejects, suggesting that if he’s going to be his accountant he can’t be giving him kisses.

       By this time, if at first Kevin seemed a bit strange, we are in total agreement with him when he asks “Why are you so weird sometimes, Samuel,” a name Sam doesn’t like, but which he still permits Kevin to call him, sounding like his parents. “You can call me Kev, so it doesn’t sound like my parents either, but I’m not sure I would want you as my accountant anymore.”

       The challenge surprises Sam. “Not unless you kiss me.”

      “Kev, I don’t date. We hooked up, the brownie and ice cream were amazing but....you’re so damn cute.” He pauses yet again. “I don’t date,” Kevin insisting that he doesn’t either. But as he’s talking, Sam picks up one of Kevin’s jars, the one filled with tiny goblins.

        “What’s up with all this ghost stuff?”

        Kevin mumbles, “I was obsessed with Ghostbusters when I was kid.”

        Suddenly Sam is once more atop him, about to return to a series of sexual advances, “Really?”

        “You just said no dates, no accounting, no kisses.”

        “I feel like I have to pay for the best brownie in LA.”

        The two have, after their short date at Kevin’s place, obviously started something more than a one night fling. And we now know the name of Sam’s favorite movie.

 

Los Angeles, May 14, 2022

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (May 2022).