Friday, October 2, 2026

Naruebet Kuno | แปลรักฉันด้วยใจเธอ Side Story (Last Twilight in Phuket) / 2021

two boys in love say goodbye

by Douglas Messerli

 

Naron Cherdsoongnern and Naruebet Kuno (screenplay), Naruebet Kuno (director) แปลรักฉันด้วยใจเธอ Side Story (Last Twilight in Phuket) / 2021 [14 minutes]

 

In this Thai film, directed by Naruebet Kuno, it is Oh-Aew’s (Krit Amnuaydechkorn) last night in the Thailand city of Phuket where the two boys grew up. He is on his way to Bangkok and a new world. His best friend Teh (Putthipong Assaratanakul) is determined to take him on a tour of their favorite places throughout the city.

    The movie immediately establishes that these two boys are also lovers, who sleep together and have been friends for much of the lives.


     There is not much to the rest of the film, except a visually splendid short work that takes these two boys through their own splendor of the city they know so well, and which few Americans might ever even have heard of.


    Like so many Thai films, there is a true naturalness about their sexual relationship, no difficult angers or problems with their sexuality. In a sense this film becomes a beautiful tour guide through the city they both have experienced every day. If there is any sadness, it lies in the boys losing one another and the nostalgia of both of their lives which they experience throughout the day.

     They do find that the school they passed by every day has now become a house, that their favorite private beach is now closed off. At the shrine they visit, the fortune for Oh-Aew reads “Happy days with fade away.”

     When he begs Teh to kiss him in public, he proves to shy to do so.

     The general beach is still bustling and they sit on the sand and swim for a while. Finally, they do hug in public at the beach.

      Later, Oh-Aew is sad as the sun sets: “My last sunset in Phuket is about to disappear.”


     Teh simply tells him that he loves him, something he sadly admits he has never told in all these years, not once. And Oh-Aew tells Teh that he loves him too. Is the confession of their love too late?

     Finally, it’s the end of the day, Oh-Aew suggesting that since there is no sun to watch any more, perhaps they should gaze at the moon.

 

    And with a stolen kiss on the cheek, they ride off to say one last goodbye to their own childhoods and loves with a grand musical score by Hualampong riddim to send them on their way.

 

Los Angeles, October 2, 2026

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (October 2026).

 

 

 

 

 

 


Dustin Lance Black | O SMS (The Text) / 2015 [commercial adverstisement]

a loving lie

by Douglas Messerli

 

Dustin Lance Black (screenwriter and director) O SMS (The Text) / 2015 [8 minutes] [commercial advertisement]

 

This 2015 Portuguese language commercial advertising film concerns several boys who hang out together as a gangly group of teenagers. The group basically, like most teen boys spending a great deal of time of their cell phone, hang out together to brag and tease one another and play video games together.

     From the very first scene on we observe Rafael (Raphael Thomé) hiding his phone message and his friend Diego (Pedro Loques) arrives. We notice a great many hearts upon the page, but what to and whom is not clear.

    The troupe of the few friends, Rafael, Diego, and, in the background, Felipe, move on, mostly arguing the way teenagers tend to about how to treat women, etc. But Rafel also has a dog, whom Diego insists has to stay outside. Again, he quickly checks his cellphone for a message.


    Rafael is a bit frustrated becomes he keeps winning their video soccer game, even though he recognizes the Diego is actually good on the field.

      Other boys sit behind them on a couch busy with their phones. The conversation between Rafael and Diego, meanwhile, becomes somewhat more abusive, Diego commenting that perhaps his mother cannot even dress him in a proper shirt (he’s wearing a mere white T-shirt), and at their argumentative height: “Rafael, you gotta be careful. If you don’t shut up to breathe every now and then you might get brain damage.”

     In yet another scene, we see Rafael and Diego running around a track while Felipe and a quite beautiful woman swimmer sit in the stands watching.

     We see them from another time in the classroom, Rafael explaining: “When you challenge yourself, your body compensates, you know? I you take the easy way, you get weak.”

     Diego, frustrated turns away, Rafael continuing, “You know about compensation, Diego?’

     Diego responds: “It’s like when you put a sock in your Speedo, right?”

     A teacher irritated with their conversation queries Diego about speaking in class, Rafael answering for him. “No ma’am. He’s just loquacious. Is that the correct use of the word?”


     Meanwhile the beautiful female swimmer smiles at Diego, while Diego turns to his friend asking, “Do you ever shut up?”

     We even spot the two friends sharing a bed before they return to the day in the apartment with others, as they play their video games, again arguing in a friendly, challenging manner as usual.

      Once more, Diego he sees Felipe in the background sending a message. Suddenly, Rafael gets up to get some Cokes, forgetting his sacred cellphone.



    And suddenly, as we see the Cokes Rafael is about take back to the group he realizes he has left behind his entire history in the cellphone, which Diego quickly discovers. And suddenly he sees the most recent message of hearts shared between the two boys, Felipe and he, have just exchanged as the other boys attempt to grab the cellphone out of his hands to see for themselves what they might discover about their always chatty macho friend.

      Returning to the room, Cokes in hand, Rafael perceives what has happened, that his best friend has intruded upon his private space, the other boys desperate to discover what he has found. For perhaps the first time in the film, he is quiet. The other boys, including the now very nervous Felipe awaiting Diego’s words, realizing that his whole life and teenage reputation now lies in Diego’s words:


    “Rafael, you worry me.” Rafael stands still silent terrified of what might come next. So be honest. So why do you got so many pictures of that mutt. You two in love or what?”

      His lie is so beautiful that it brings tears to one’s eyes. It is the lie of a deepest friend, who refuses to reveal that Rafael is gay and in love with Felipe.

      It permits Rafael to turn back into his endless banter, we now know a cover for his feelings which he dare not reveal: “Well, I’d rather kiss that dog than your twin sister and neither one of them will stop following me.”

      “I don’t have a twin sister.”

      “Must be Your dog then. You look so similar I thought you were related.”

      Everyone laughs, and Rafael hands out his Cokes. Order is temporarily restored. At least, the order of young teenage boys, unable to share their personal “abnormal” desires.

      As the boys run back down the stairs to outside, Rafael momentary tells his friend Diego: “One more think about advantages, because you have a new one now….Friends like me, we know most beautiful girls in the world and we’re happy to introduce them to you.” Obviously the plural represents the newly discovered information as well: the we is he and the handsome, always silent Felipe.


     They now walk down the street, the beautiful swimmer girl and Diego, with Rafael and Felipe side by side in a gender matched foursome, happy presumably for the rest of their teenage days.

       I have to say, this is one of the most profound ads, including Coke which has had some wonderful gay ads in the past, that I have ever seen. It serves as a model of what is possible. It reads more like a short movie that an advertisement. The boys are all quite charming. Wish it was produced as well for US audiences, but obviously Coke felt we weren’t ready.

 

Los Angeles, September 2, 2026

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (September 2026).

Nathaniel Turner | Let Me Go / 2015

love and despair

by Douglas Messerli

 

Nathaniel Turner (screenwriter and director) Let Me Go / 2015 [8 minutes]

 

This drama about AIDS, located in the 1980s epidemic, is a moving and terrifying testimony to those difficult days.

    The film begins with some statements that characterize the new disease the suddenly begin appearing in the early 1980s:

 

     “Centers for Disease Control publicity announces that a contagious for of cancer is spreading within the homosexual community.

     “Scientists do not know the cause of the disease, but strong suspect it is a virus.

     “Hospitals, police, and fireman are issued masks to wear in treating the infectious homosexual patients.

     “Later that year, CDC names the virus ‘AIDS.’

     “Scientists believe that a vaccine will be produced within two years.”

     

   The film proper begins in a Santa Monica apartment in 1985 with Philip Daniels (Jimmy Dipola) entering the room with a glass of orange juice and a small slice of cake, wishing his lover, Christian Nerron (Matthew Olsen), a man with Kaposi sarcoma lesions showing on his face and a cane in hand, busy packing up a suitcase. He is determined that he wants his lover to leave him that very day.

 

    Philip wonders where he would go. Putting his arms around him, he asks “Wo would take care of you.” Christian pulls away, insisting it’s not going to make any difference. “There’s not going to be any cure.”

    “I’ve had four chemos, two experiments, and none of it has done a thing.”

    He argues that even his dropping out of school has been only to live with a corpse. Christian touches his lover’s face. “Go back to your family.”

     Philip responds, “You are my family. We gave up our families so we could be together.”

     They briefly embrace, but again the sick man pulls away, insisting Philip leave or that he himself will leave, as he takes the suitcase and tosses it into the other room.


    Falling to the floor, Christian insists: “This is all my fault. I did this. And now I’ve dragged you down with me. It was meant to be a fling. That’s all. But you, you can’t let me go.”

     Philip insists that it was all in the past.

   “I am the past,” Christian declares. Again, he pushes his lover away, this time moving to the bathroom and locking the door, Philip pleading with him to open up. Finally shouting out to him, as inside Christian runs a bath, picks up a hair dryer, plugs it in and clearly prepares to electrocute himself. The entire film turns mute except for the pounding musical score, Philip struggling with the door handle, Christian himself terrified of what he is about to do as the electric device moves nearer, seemingly of its own will. Philip, by this time on the floor in desperation, whispers: “I love you.”


      Christian finally opens up and walks out, actually fearing the suicide as much as the slower death he is experiencing. The men again hug, both now in tears, Christian whimpering “I’m so scared.”


    The film ends with the 2015 statistics: “78 million infected, 39 million died.” At the time of this review, 2026, the same statistics world-wide read: 92.2 million infected, 44.2 million people have died. Except for Tuberculosis, Smallpox in the early part of this century, and the Black Plague of the Middle Ages, AIDS has been one of the most the lethal diseases of all time. And we still have no known full cure, despite our government, cutting money world-wide for research and further protection in areas of the world where people are most infected.

    AIDS killed off almost an entire generation in the US of some of the most creative and talented young people of the 1980s and 1990s. Is it surprising that, after watching several dozens of AIDS movies, even a work as unevenly acted and melodramatic as this one, moves me to tears?

 

Los Angeles, October 2, 2026

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (October 2026).

Song Huang | 触碰 (Touch) / 2019

“looking” for love

by Douglas Messerli

 

Song Huang (screenwriter and director) 触碰 (Touch) / 2019 [13 minutes]

 

Having recently gone blind, Yue (Du Yusen), a young gay man, sits in the bathroom where he dials up presumably a Grindr subscriber, Gabriel, on his cellphone, asking if he might have a voice message and explaining to the man at the other end that he need not say anything as he masturbates to his silent presence—obviously a momentary relationship completely borne out of Yue’s imagination.


      The doctor claims there is little chance, for someone like Yue suffering from optic atrophy for full sight being restored. The father reports that for the last months they have gone through many different treatments with no results.

      Returning home, Yue once again connects up with Gabriel. It appears his telephone partner has figured out that Yue is calling from the bathroom given that he’s relying so much of voice messages. But Yue argues that no, he’s just too lazy to type.

      Gabriel’s response is a strange one, that his ex-boyfriend would say the same thing, but when Yue asks what his friend was like Gabriel refuses to discuss him. Yue’s response is at least clever: “I guess you like someone who is too lazy to type,” perhaps the first moment of real personality he has let slip through the wall of silent passivity he has created.

      Gabriel does respond, and Yue returns to their intense pants of shared masturbation. But in the middle, Gabriel wonders if they might have a video chat. Yue asks Gabriel not to stop since he’s close to coming.

       Afterwards, Yue sits in the bathtub bathing himself. His father calls him to remind him that they have an appointment with the doctor the next morning.

       Gabriel has left him to messages: “What is love to you?” “Is this love between us?”

       Yue responds that “Of course it is.”

       But Gabriel responds by sending him a new picture of himself that he took that very day, adding that he has not yet seen a picture of Yue. But what is love with a person you cannot see and with whom you communicate only by short voice-activated comments.

       The film ends with Yue deleting Gabriel’s comments and deactivating all communications with him, a true act of ghosting by a man who clearly now feels that he himself is a ghost.

        ZIZI has a sent a new message: “Hey handsome,” adding an emoji.

        Yue responds, “Hello. What are you looking for?”

        But the real question, obviously, is what he is looking for—with all that metaphor’s literal meanings attached—as he attempts to chart new territory, to find entirely different ways to seek out love in a world in which it is already difficult to maneuver.

        Director Song Huang has chosen to render most the scenes of this short film in nearly total darkness (I have significantly brightened the above filmclip), with only the light of the cellphone messages illuminating Yue’s face. One can totally comprehend that choice to force us to experience something of Yue’s world, of the darkness into which he has suddenly been plunged. But alas, it merely helps to exclude us from the character’s world, pulling Yue even further away from even the viewer’s sympathies or simple empathies. And the film, ultimately, turns itself into something much like a computer voice mail message, removing us almost entirely from Yue’s presence except for a few vague words and the kind of sexual pantings one might hear in telephone scatologia.

      

Los Angeles, October 18, 2023

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (October 2023).

 


Titles Index A-N

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