Siar Sedig | Last Exit Home / 2012

imagining himself as a woman to attract his man

by Douglas Messerli

 

Siar Sedig (screenwriter and director) Last Exit Home / 2012 [11 minutes]

 

This short film by Dutch director Siar Sedig truly irritated me.

    The central character, Leonard (Roy de Vries) is a man of habit, everyday taking the same subway route home, so often in fact, that he recognizes almost all of his fellow passengers.

    There is always a quite beautiful woman, Lisa (Caroline Bech) flirting with him or whoever else might catch her eye. Leonard, although almost psychotically shy, is actually a good-looking young man.

    But this day, for the first time, another rider, a quite handsome young man, Lucas (Raynor Arkenbout) enters the subway and sits alone. Almost immediately both the flirtatious woman and the passive Leonard recognize his beauty. Yet Leonard, in the 21st century, can seemingly not imagine that a handsome, slightly unshaved hirsute male might not be attracted to the woman attempting to lure men to her side, and needs to imagine himself as the woman, despite he being sis-gender, clearly attracted to the man himself.

     When it notices the man gets up to leave the subway that he has left his scarf behind, Leonard takes the brave action of finally retrieving the scarf, exciting when the man does, and finally calling out to him, after a great many pauses. But again, in his imagination, in order to be loved he turns into the woman, a trope I finally perceives as utterly obnoxious. One can be shy, doubt whether he can attract such a handsome stud, surely without imagining a gender change. This seems like material from the turn of the century when gay behavior was considered, even sympathetically, as being female related. Shyness and uncertainty does surely not require an imaginary shift into womanhood to explain.

     In fact, finally seeing our mess of confusions with his scarf, the stranger smiles, even seems somewhat attracted. Of course, Leonard is too tongue-tied to say anything, and simply hands the scarf over, returning to his endless routine.

     In terms of Vito Russo’s vision of gay figures in film history, he might as well have been shot in the head. His dream vanishes as he returns to a reality of his own making.

     Frankly, there is no excuse for this kind of film in 2012. Dutch filmmaking is so much richer and complex. I find this film frankly embarrassing.

 

Los Angeles, September 23, 20026

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema (September 2026).