Wednesday, March 4, 2026

Marco Berger | Una Ășltima voluntad (Last Wish) / 2007

kiss of death

by Douglas Messerli

 

Marco Berger (screenwriter and director) Una Ășltima voluntad (Last Wish) / 2007 [10 minutes]

 

In over 12 short films and features over the last couple of decades, Argentine director and writer Marco Berger has never ceased to provide wonderfully subtle narratives scored with stunningly beautiful images about gay and LGBTQ+ life.

     I’d argue that he is one of the most underrated of contemporary gay filmmakers, who ought to be included in the pantheon of contemporary queer directors I listed elsewhere in these pages.

      Even in his earliest film, Last Wish (2007), you can already sense his mastery. Creating a black-and-while wartime-like film, Berger suggests a kind of terrible timelessness when opposing sides kill their enemies and traitors on site, gathering up a thin line of privates to aim and fire without pity.


      The only rule of honor that reminds these men of real civilization is their quite meaningless ability to grant the about to be murdered man his last request. The General (Oscar Alegre) asks the condemned man (Manuel Vignau) “What is your last wish.”

      After a short pause, he answers, “un beso” (“a kiss”).

      “Can this be possible?” asks El General, utterly confused even by such a request.

      His assistant (Leonardo Azamor) simply repeats that it is the condemned man’s last wish.

      The general walks over the prisoner. “I don’t think that is possible.”

    “El Condenado,” however, here argues that without the fulfillment of his wish there can be no execution.

      The general asks his assistant to check the rules and regulations, which he does, repeating that the prisoner has rights for one, and only one, last wish. Moreover, he not only has the right to that wish but, “2,” they must carry it out to the best of their ability, and “3,” “the wish must not consume the maximum time of 5 minutes.” There are further restrictions, but it ends by saying that the last wish cannot be negated.

      But who on the firing squad will kiss him. One soldier suggests that they draw straws. A box of matches is tossed out, and a lit match is put to the other end of the box. Three men draw, each with fairly large matches left intact, but the fourth accepts his fate, appearing to toss, like the others, the match over his head.


      The handsome selected soldier (Lucas Ferraro) hands his rifle to the assistant and approaches the prisoner, and, as the others turn their heads away, plants a long, full kiss on the condemned man’s lips.

      He returns to the firing squad. The command is given, and we observe that his gun does not go off, while the others shoot, killing the condemned man.

      The “selected man” stands alone as the others walk off, one kicking the body to make sure it is dead. After all the others have left, he reaches into his pocket, revealing a match that looks in length to be very similar to the others. It’s clear it is no longer or shorter than the others, but that he has purposely selected to reward the kiss on the soon-to-die man’s lips.

       There is nothing else to say. We do not know the dead man’s crime; we do not know whether he was a traitor, an infiltrator, or simply an enemy caught on the run. We know nothing of the man’s relationship to the others, not even to the man who selected himself to provide the dead man’s last wish.

       All we know is that in this forest, a condemned man asked for and was rewarded a kiss before death, a kind of reversal of the Snow White myth. His kiss has assured his death, but perhaps will remain in the memory of man who kissed him for the rest of his life, strangely resulting in a kind life after death.

 

Los Angeles, November 10, 2023

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (November 2023).

Piergiorgio Seidita | Goodnight / 2019

sex with a stranger

by Douglas Messerli

 

Piergiorgio Seidita (screenwriter and director) Goodnight / 2019 [8 minutes]

 


Christian (Andrea Lintozzi Sinneca), the nervous gay boy in Italian director Piergiorgio Sedita’s Goodnight—and what gay boy isn’t nervous on his first few times out seeking out sexual delight (O how I recall even decades later the butterflies in the stomach that represented the thrill and terror of returning each night to the local gay bar where I was sure to meet up with a sexual partner, the excitement of meeting someone to whom you might give up your body to pure pleasure)—decides it’s best to call his mother before undertaking what appears soon after to be a Grindr meetup. The mother (voiced by Claudia Cervelli) is upset that he is even calling her instead of entering back inside to be with whomever he has chosen for the night. She seems almost mystical in her insights, insisting that instead of calling her, crying and out of breath, he should simply return to the party—from which he has led her to believe he has temporarily escaped to call her—and enjoy the company he has chosen to be with, as if she knows very well what his call is truly all about.

    With her tacit approval, he visits Mattia (Andrea Patetti), who himself sensing his young visitor’s uncomfortableness suggests that he begin with a message. Christian, who evidently has foot fetish begins rubbing Mattia’s feet, who meanwhile asks him the strange question whether or not as a young man named Christian he truly believes in God.


    Obviously young Christian feels this is an odd question given the actions in which they are now engaging, but Mattia insists that when he feels comfortable these are precisely the kinds of questions which cross his mind. On the other hand, he almost casually mentions, he finds Christian to be beautiful.

     Christian pauses, sitting back to respond that if there is a God, he certainly hope he isn’t watching them at the moment. But Mattia continues in a philosophical mode to wonder “where has the magic of our times gone?” Christian answers, perhaps a little predictable and maybe even somewhat cynically: “I suppose the old generations exhausted it.” Mattia gently touching Christian’s face insists that they might be able to get it back, but Christian suddenly sitting up almost in resistance insists that he couldn’t know how to do it, Mattia in response insisting “That’s impossible.”


    Suddenly, I could well imagine in the age of Grindr—even the company name hinting at a job to endure in order to provide the necessary sexual release—that any idea of magic seems totally meaningless. Sex has become a kind of job to produce the necessary pleasure to get through the next day. To me way back in history sex was more than magical, it was a delicious sensation of melding momentary with another beautiful body that might result in anything…a simple conversation, a friendship, an inkling of love. Did my generation exhaust that with our endless nights of pleasure leading to loneliness, drugs, and disease? Christian’s fear, it is quite apparent, is something I never felt, and perhaps more poignant such I can’t place it, understand it. Even his mother has given him her permission. Perhaps the fact that in my generation no one gave us any permission was at the heart of our delight.

   The beautiful Mattia stands, drops his bathrobe, and walks off toward the bedroom. We see Christian returning to his car. He looks sad, and we can only presume he left in frustration.

   But soon after his cellphone bings, and we hear Mattia’s voice: “Ciao…I thought that…if God, or whoever is above…HOPE…saw us tonight!” For the first time Christian produces a big smile.

“Because I truly believe,” Mattia continues, “in that magic we’ve spoken about tonight [we] were kept safe in a room like ours…lost rooms in the world between strangers…strangers or….people who had known each other the whole life.” He hopes that they felt the same thing they were feeling in the moment. “A true feeling that shakes the heavens. Like colors. The taste of a kiss between two people.”

    All right, I never would have ever put my many wonderful, one night affairs in these terms, even though I was a philosophy minor in the university. But in more ordinary terms, isn’t that what I just expressed above in the experience of the joy, the pleasure of meeting up with an individual to share sex?


    We witness a truly different Christian listening to this message, smiling, laughing, almost pounding the steering wheel of his car with joy. The “goodnight” offered to this young dreamer is a offering into the future, the kind of night gay boys such as us have always longed from—and sometimes, even briefly received.

    Sedita’s small work is a valentine to gay sex with a stranger.

 

Los Angeles, March 4, 2026

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema, March 2026.

Rex Wilson | Tom Brown’s Schooldays / 1916

boys in arms

by Douglas Messerli

 

Rex Wilson (screenwriter, after the novel by Thomas Hughes, and director) Tom Brown’s Schooldays / 1916

 

In the manner of the films I’ve already described that retold very abbreviated stories of works by Charles Dickens and William Shakespeare, British director Rex Wilson (born George Edward Wilson) in his very first film chose to retell episodes from the popular 1857 novel by Thomas Hughes, Tom Brown’s Schooldays, which was retold several times in cinema over later years.

    The original novel was far more sexually open that Wilson’s own telling, which included a female love interest for Tom Brown that was not at all in the original telling. Clearly, Wilson in his attempt to reiterate Victorian values for a British audience facing World War I—the oldest of the three Tom Brown actors, Jack Hobbs having already in real life volunteered for the military—that preached the tenants of childhood resilience, deep family commitment, and gentlemanly virtue which would help young British soldiers put up in wartime deprivations. Certainly, the original novel, although by today’s standards featuring some very strange notions of male relationships, focused on the complex issues of male bonding that would allow war-time men to live together for years in the World War I trenches.


     Tom Brown, who like so many British boys is sent off to boarding school—this school devoted to the almost inexplicable mass deep body contact sport of rugby wherein the ball seems almost beside the point to the boys’ pressing of their bodies against one other—where boyhood bullying, endless pillow fights and fisticuffs, and so-called mentoring relationships between older and younger school boys that border on sanctioned pedophilic friendships were common.

     Rugby school, to where Tom (first played by the female actor Joyce Templeton) is sent, is a world of the older demonstrating their power over the younger, the later forced into become fags—having little to do with what we now describe as “faggots” (at one point Tom begs the bully Flashman, “Please, Flashman, don’t toss me!  I’ll fag for you. I’ll do anything only don’t toss me!”)—referring to younger boys who run, fetch, and regularly serve as menials for the older boys. Tom is almost immediately identified as a good sport, and although he suffers the blanket tossing (which might easily end in broken bones) of the elder bully Flashman, he survives long enough to provide elderly friendship (as actor Jack Coleman) for his first young mentee, Harry East (who is simply credited as Mr. Johnson).


   The friendship that develops between the two is comparable to that of Hitchcock’s 1927 movie Downhill, the much later 1968 Stephen Frears film if…, and even the Danish boarding school film by Lasse Nielsen and Ernst Johansen, You Are Not Alone of 1978, not to ignore the university boy-love relationships of the 1981 TV series Brideshead Revisited and the 1987 James Ivory film Maurice, to name only a couple.

    Although Wilson somewhat attempts to tamp down the sexual intensity of the elder/younger boy relationships in Tom Brown by introducing a youthful heterosexual love interest in his professor’s daughter, even here, when he encounters her with East by his side, the film through its careful observation of how the boys drop their handholding while still reaching out for one another’s fingers suggests East’s fear of abandonment and reinforces their sense of physical dependency for one another, restored the moment she leaves the room.


     The subplot, which despite the episodic nature of the film’s plot is quite well done, and further takes us down the road of boylove enchantment, this time regarding Tom’s beloved older sister, Cynthia.

     Soon after Tom leaves home as a young child, Cynthia (Evelyn Boucher) runs away with her boyfriend, and despite her father’s attempt to stop her, marries a young man. Squire Brown (Mr. Daniels), in response bans her from ever returning home. Cynthia’s young husband dies soon after, leaving her with a young male child, Arthur (Eric Barker). Almost penniless, she nonetheless works to support him and sends him away when she can to the same boarding school where her brother (now played by Jack Hobbs) is an upperclassman.

     Having now proven himself as a responsible young adult, the head of the school demands that he give up his relationship with Harry East and mentor instead the young new boy, Arthur.

    The familiar relationship obviously should allay any suspicious we might have about the two forming a sexual bond, but strangely the acting becomes even more physical as Hobbs, presumably to establish his tender feelings for his new young charge, endlessly throughout the last third of the film keeps his young charge close to him, with his arm about him in a manner that cannot help but be seen as a gesture of sexual love. Although they sleep in separate beds, Arthur and he seem almost to share their life together in Tom’s room, wherein he keeps a portrait of his sister without Arthur ever noticing it.


    Once more, the even more towering presence of the professor’s daughter looms over the two young men’s male romance, but in this case it is clear that Tom is far more focused on his young charge Arthur.

   Arthur, in turn, clings to his new friend in a physically dependent manner, neither of them knowing of their avuncular relationship.

    And when Tom returns to his private room, telling East that he has now found a new friend, it is rather apparent that his new friendship is not simply a social one, but something that envelops both of their physical lives as well.

    When East asks him forthrightly, “Who’s the new boy?” Brown answers him in kind: “Sorry, East, old man, he’s taken your place.”


    Accordingly, even if the director was desperately attempting to establish a true idealistic mentorship between the elder and younger boy, the sentimental tropes and acting gestures of the day only reinforce the kind of relationship that the upper “Whips” in if… .have with the young boys they perceive as sex objects.

    In the original book, as critic Shane Brown reminds us, Hobbs even more strongly hints at the homosexual undercurrent between the two, having East describe Arthur as “a pretty little dear,” to which he adds a footnote: “There are many noble friendships between big boys and little boys but I can’t strike out the passage. Many boys will know why it was left in.”

    By film’s end, of course, any suggestions of a sexual relationship between uncle and nephew are hurriedly wiped away with the discovery that Arthur is, in fact, his lost sister’s son, and Tom’s good deed of bringing both his new “roommate” and the boy’s mother home for a visit, thus reuniting the seemingly recalcitrant father and daughter, becomes the closing moral act of the work.

    Yet the way Wilson has chosen to tell Tom Brown’s Schooldays, the story remains basically a tale about schoolboys pressing their flesh against one another, and not at all focused on their selfless encouragement and admiration.

 

Los Angeles, March 3, 2026

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (March 2026).

 

 

My Queer Cinema Index [with former World Cinema Review titles]

https://myqueercinema.blogspot.com/2023/12/former-index-to-world-cinema-review.html Films discussed (listed alphabetically by director) [For...