Holly Lawrenson Evans | Swimming with You / 2022

second chance

by Douglas Messerli

 

Paul Davidson, Holly Lasrenson Evans, and Taylor Watson (screenplay), Holly Lawrenson Evans (director) Swimming with You / 2022 [11 minutes]

 

Two boys who have evidently spent the day together find themselves now in a parking lot, locked out of their car. Rhys (Dillon McFarlane) has evidently left his keys in the car, so he reports to the British version of AAA. Lucas (Declyn Tracey) apparently has to be at work at 2:00, and it’s now 1:50. What to do?

     While they wait for the recovery car to arrive, they begin small talk, Rhys suggesting that he did have a good time. Lucas suggests that the could get a bus and walk, maybe. But Rhys then argues he would feel even more stranded.

      Obviously, they are at a standstill; they’re emotions are still pent up inside, and, particularly Lucas, clearly pissed, doesn’t quite know how to respond.

      Rhys dares to ask what Lucas actually does at work, and even then Luca challenges him, cynical about his attempts to really “chat.” Yet finally, he admits that he mostly just “plays music over the speakers, stocks the shelves and that sort of thing.”

       As for what music he likes, Lucas admits “mostly indie” stuff.

       Lucas asks if Rhys knows “The Blue Moons,” Rhys wondering does he dress like someone who would know “The Blue Moons?” Nonetheless, Lucas argues he should check them out; he might like them.

       Lucas finally asks Rhys what he “gets up to” on his days.

       “Just studying. Hanging out with my friends. Usual student stuff, you know.”

       Suddenly, we perceive the two have met up with other intentions, given that in his next sentence Rhys replies: “Nobody really knows about this side of me.”

       We now know the two have met up in this wilderness spot from a hookup on Grindr or some such internet connection. The snafu has been on top of their own fears and sexual frustrations.

        Rhys continues: “I’m just trying to figure out what I want, who I want.

        But Lucas pretends to have no knowledge of what his friend is talking about, Rhys quickly responding that he’d appreciate it if he just kept it to himself.

       Lucas responds rather positive, suggesting he might send him a playlist to see if he like it.

      And now even humor enters into their conversation when Lucas points out that Rhys has re-buttoned his shirt improperly. The boys have evidently had some sort of sex or at least a serious make-out session before this disastrous end.

       Suddenly the recovery vehicle arrives, driven by a quite likeable and forceful woman, Lorna (Carla McNeil), who immediately inquire whether they’ve been locked out of their car. Marching forward, bag in hand, she peers into the car, laughing evidently perceiving even by the position of the car seats that the boys have been up to something.

       “So what brings you guys out to these lovely parts?”

       She quickly opens the door, but forces them first to sign some paperwork.

      And suddenly as Rhys moves to his upper pocket of his coat, the keys fall out. He has had them with him the whole time.

       “Fuck you, man” is Lucas’ response, as Rhys attempts to apologize.

       Lorna needs his signature, “Before this kicks off between you two lover boys.”

       This wise woman approaches Lucas, “His first time, I assume.”

       “Isn’t it obvious?”      

       This “savior” offers some good advice: “He’s made an effort. More than most boys, right? All I’m saying is, don’t be too quick to throw him away.”

     Lucas, conflicted, nonetheless pauses to think before knocking on the car window where Rhys now sits. “How about that lift?”

     It’s difficult to find a good relationship at any age, but certainly problematic for two young unsure boys such as these is a perhaps provincial territory. Learning to forgive and love is necessary for any young gay boy on the verge of finally coming out.

     This is a wise little work, if somewhat unbelievable. It still stings the way all early love stories do, and thrives in its openness of heart.

      I might mention, yet again, so many of these fine gay films over the last several decades have been helmed by women directors, in this case Scottish-born director Holly Lawrenson Evans. It should be a lesson to Hollywood and other major cinema productions. Why it took three writers to put together a script, I cannot explain.

 

Los Angeles, July 8, 2026

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (July 2026).

 

Lonelyleap Production Company | The Redwood-O’Hare Family / 2015 [commercial advertisement]

fathers

by Douglas Messerli

 

Lonelyleap Production Company The Redwood-O’Hare Family / 2015 [2.41 minutes] [commerical advertisement]

 

Later in 2015, Tylenol created two rather straight ads, one about a Nigerian immigrant family, the Ekeh’s, whose son has been offered admission by some of the best of US universities and colleges. This was directed by Adam Hootnick.

     Another ad, The Vincent Family, of August 28, 2015, describes how a young boy’s father was killed in a car accident and then her sister died, forcing to realize at a young age that she needed to adopt their son. Again, Tylenol features a different kind of family to help sell its product.

    But perhaps the most interesting to gay viewers was The Redwood-O’Hare Family, a mixed-race gay couple who have adopted a boy.

     This couple, actor Denis O’Hare and his companion Hugo Redwood, met back in 2000 on line, and immediately felt a rapport, coming together almost immediately. They had discussions about having a family, but O’Hare argues they were on opposite sides. “When you’re a same-sex couple with a child, suddenly you become a sort of walking poster. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to do that.” He admits, having been raised in a culture where gay people were told that it wasn’t right for them to have children, the forces of those values were still affecting him, even though he wasn’t fully aware of it. So, he realizes, he had to overcome a lot of resistance.

     But the moment Declan was put into his arms, he tears up telling it, he was my son. And realized I didn’t need to seek anyone’s permission to fall in love or raise a son. “I don’t need to ask permission to have a family. I have a family.”

     They show the couple walking their son up to a curtain, which when it drops, reveals a full shelf filled with photographs of the boy, who seems quite delighted, as if even that young he knows he is now home, part of the family. “Nobody has got a lock on the definition of a family.” “We’re the Redwood-O’Hare’s, and this is how we family,” speaks a voice as Tylenol finally presents their closing logo.

 

Los Angeles, July 8, 2026

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (July 2026).

Lonelyleap Production Company | How We Family / 2015 [commercial advertisement]

MOTHERS

by Douglas Messerli

 

Lonelyleap Production Company How We Family / 2015 [2.06 minutes] [commercial advertisement]

 

What I believe to be the second in the series of Tylenol ads featuring family, presumably also written and directed by Dustin Lance Black, was a 2.06 minute ad featuring only women, each talking about their role as mothers. The first is an Asian woman who simply announces “I’m a mother,” followed by another woman who declares she has two children. The third reveals that she is “a single mom,” and by the fourth revealing that she has a great family made up of two moms.

    Another states that she “did it through a surrogate.” And yet another that she has a “transitioning son.” The original Asian woman argues “There’s so much discussion about what’s acceptable, what’s not acceptable. That word shouldn’t even play in the dynamic of family.” Another argues it all depends upon how much love you give them.

     And so it goes, another woman saying how deeply she bonded when she put her son down to bed with her wife. My son got sick in Brazil, and that’s when I realized “I’m a mom.” “Family is a group of people that create love.” “What makes families stay together, adds yet another, “is love.”

      “I love my son, and I want him to be as happy, as healthy, and successful, as he can be.”

      This moving testament to all kinds of mothers, most of them single or raising their child with a lesbian lover, provides yet a fuller dimension to the notion of family that Tylenol sought out in this series of ads.

 

Los Angeles, July 7, 2026

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (July 2026).

Dustin Lance Black | How We Family / 2015 [commercial advertisement]

redefinitions of family

by Douglas Messerli

 

Dustin Lance Black (creator) How We Family / 2015 [30 seconds] [commercial advertisement]

 

Beginning in 2015 and continuing through 2016, the Tylenol company began a series of ads that featured various US families, many of them gay and lesbian. The initial ad from 2015 was created by Dustin Lance Black, asking a central question "When were you first considered a family? When did you first fight to be considered a family?"

 

      The original ad, if I read it correctly, since there were several ads with little coherent documentation, was a 30 second add, simply asking a series of important questions, but featuring white, black, lesbian, and male gay couples, concluding that “Family isn’t defined by who you are but how.”

     Featuring black, interracial, lesbian, and gay families, this ad broke new ground for queer and multi-racial families even as late as 2015 for a major US company.

 

Los Angeles, July 7, 2026

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (July 2026).