David Snyder | Yeah No Definitely / 2007

a desperate standoff

by Douglas Messerli

 

David Snyder (screenwriter and director) Yeah No Definitely / 2007 [14 minutes]

 

A couple of the Letterboxd commentators argued, simply, as they usually do, that this film goes nowhere. And on one level they are absolutely right. This film, unlike most of today’s gay cinema, presents us with no resolve.

    Cam (Vincent Piazza) is a sad young man, portraying himself to others and his best friend Kiff (Alan Barnes Netherton) as being totally heterosexual. But it’s clear from the beginning as the two hurry off to a party thrown mostly by rich girls about to head off to their chosen colleges, that Cam is desperately in love with Kiff, and that Kiff despite his even more open heterosexual bluff, probably would be glad to have Cam admit his love; although it is also probably that were Cam to do so, that Kiff would have to rebuff the love and leave his friend behind.

     Even being able to provide his friend with his necessary shot of insulin becomes almost an opportunity to symbolic “enter” his body. It is a sad symbol of their needs and desires.

     In a sense, the two buddies continue to live out their bromance while clumsily stopping around in territory in which they are basically unacclimated, Kiff, in particular, presenting an affable but clueless demeanor.

     But by the time this movie opens it’s also apparent that Cam is fed up with playing his heterosexual role, having recently broken up his girlfriend, who he claims wanted something of him that he couldn’t provide. When Kiff probes, he claims she wanted him to be an adolescent, which in fact is what he truly is. The two boys join the “chichi” party in which they are basically out of their league, by smoking a couple of joints.

     Kiff moves off to make out with the “hot” Nadia (Alejandra Amrosi), while Cam attempts to join up in conversations where the women are talking about heading off to college at Oxford and elsewhere without participating in any “real” conversation.

     He heads off, eventually getting so drunk that he vomits and passes out, Kiff taking him upstairs, removing his shoes and socks and putting him to bed.

     But too soon, Cam, feeling obviously alone when perhaps he hope Kiff might watch over him, staggers down the staircase, insisting that he has to get a new shirt. He attempts to drive off in Kiff’s car, but his friend suddenly appears to remind him that he is in no condition to drive. Cam almost runs him over as he moves off, however, soon stopping a few yards off.

    Kiff enters the car takes over, as they drive off into the night, finally back home, still without being actually able to really talk about the issue: their shared loved.

    They both remain adolescents, Kiff arguing that he is not Cam’s mother, upon which his friend reminds him his mother has recently died and breaks down in tears, Kiff hugging and comforting him. Alas, given their inability to look inward, they can go no further. Their pretense as best buddies is the best they can hope for. The writer himself, in the blurb accompanying this film explains: “The film is a study in self-deception, a theme worth exploring now, when Americans seem particularly desperate to avoid dealing with reality, and grasp at any diversion rather than look in the mirror.”

      This film was made in 2007, but at what time were not Americans “desperate to avoid dealing with reality,” and since that time it has only gotten worse. There are thousands of Cam and Kiffs through the American landscape, young men desperate for love but not being able to explain their same-sex attractions. We know that at least Kiff will eventually marry, probably with unresolved homosexual feels for the rest of his life. Cam may eventually have to look into the mirror or become an alcoholic or drug addict to disguise his suffering. This is the “American” way.

 

Los Angeles, September 28, 2026

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (September 2026).