Christopher Banks | Communication / 2010

the guilt of abandonment

by Douglas Messerli

 

Christopher Banks (screenwriter, based on the play by David Blakey, and director) Communication / 2010 [20 minutes]

 

This is mostly a film of regret and lost opportunities of love.

      Jacob (Rudi Vodanovich) is an Orthodox Jewish student involved in a relationship with his mentor over what is apparently for several years. Because of his religious tenants, the boy does not engage in an actual homosexual experiences with Andrew (Alexander Campbell) who has his own lover Charles (Richard Lambeth).

    Yet the boy intrigues the elder man, the two meeting regularly both for lunches and kosher dinners cooked by Andrew in his rather palatial home.

      Charles seems to be missing most of the time, but upon one invite, Charles, a true pretty boy, has suddenly returned to Auckland and when he meets Jacob at the door, calls into Charles that the stripper has arrived. From there on he continues to abuse the young student until finally Jacob is forced to leave, humiliated for his friendship with his teacher by his own lover.

     What is clear, since he has been able to buy his own house of Mulholland drive, Charles must be doing quite financially well in his Los Angeles activities.

     Yet, Jacob also realizes that his attraction and friendship with Andrew, is far more than a simple admiration and that he actually is gay, as he struggles through the Jewish texts explaining their outlawing of homosexuality.

     Finally, upon graduation he determines to return home to Christchurch, which he insists is home, Charles arguing no, home is where you feel you belong, trying once more to lure the young man on with new possibilities.

     Jacob, however, is toying with the possibility of spending some time in Israel, which he feels might be the right decision for him. Of course, that decision is also somewhat based on his own sexual insecurity. Because it is clear that he does enjoy Jacob’s company, their intellectual engagement, and their intimate discussions.

     The film begins, however, sometime after all these college-day experiences, when he returns to Auckland, having suddenly inherited Andrews’ large house. A great many of the facts of this short film are revealed as he reenters the house he quite inexplicably has inherited and finds mementoes which now remind him of their days together.

     As he moves slowing through the house, he suddenly hears sounds from the upstairs bedroom, and rushes up to see the television on with Andrews attempting to explain his decision of leaving all his wealth to him. Charles has finally left him, and he admits that their relationship had always been a mere distraction, while his friendship with Jacob and been intensely intellectual and engaging. Of course, he admits, he had always hoped to make their relationship something deeper, hoping to bring the boy into his home; yet he doesn’t regret what they had, consisting of some of the most meaningful moments in his life.

    We later learn, moreover, that it apparently has not always been purely intellectual, and perhaps was physical from time to time, something that clearly has been even hidden in Jacob’s own consciousness.

    But suddenly, now he is also confronted by an angry Charles himself, revealing that Andrew has died, after falling for a ladder, trying to repaint the house, a task which he had invited Jacob to help him with. Charles, in his hate and spleen, basically summarizes the truth, that Jacob had run off in fear of love he could not fully embrace, leaving his teacher alone.

    Shocked by the reality, Jacob staggers away down the beach, finally perceiving his own kind of abandonment of the loving Andrew. 

     Unfortunately, the film writers have not sufficiently found a way to resolve Jacob’s sense of guilt and suffering for his loss. Instead, it sends a female stranger, noticing the boy’s distress to ask him if he is okay. Finally, admitting he is not at all okay, Jacob breaks down in tears, and she (Rita Lefau Ryan) attempts to comfort him.

    In short, this film is itself afraid to fully confront the sexuality behind Andrews’ love, while also never being able to even question the appropriateness of their deep friendship. Presumably the house remains now his property, and he will somehow have to explain to himself and his family how he has possibly come to inherit it. And frankly, for all the kind love Andrew shows him, Jacob appears throughout as a somewhat sour and cold fish, simply not able to pull away from yoke of his religious beliefs to challenge himself to fully engage in love. As terrible as the mean and boorish Charles is, there is finally a truth to what he says, although given his own wealth and abandonment how and why he has returned to the Auckland house is unclear except as a gesture of his spite. Yet, it is also clear that Charles feels guilt for his own abandonment.

 

Los Angeles, October 3, 2026

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (October 2026).

Théo Lemouzy | Condition Humaine (Human Condition) / 2021

the impossible choice

by Douglas Messerli

 

Théo Lemouzy (screenwriter and director) Condition Humaine (Human Condition) / 2021 [22 minutes]

 

A young man, Marcio (Phelipe Fox), who we soon after discover is a Brazilian expatriate, is sitting on a bench alone at night when his pimp arrives, giving his next assignment and demanding that he take care of it. Before he leaves, Marcio pleads for an advance, he’s starving and hasn’t eaten in 2 days.

     This short film by French director Théo Lemouzy goes on to show us that Marcio is sleeping on benches and in the Cinematique, Fritz Lang’s Metropolis showing on the screen in an otherwise empty auditorium. So it is already established that this film will be a sad statement about the relationship of the classes, of the suffering of those disenfranchised by the society in which they live. Can the mediated peace between the son of Metropolis’ creator and the head of the workers be trusted, after all we have seen, at film’s end?

     An older man, Jean (Emmanuel Ménard) enters the theater near the end of the film, and wakes up the boy. But we see them soon after in broad daylight on the street talking. When asked, Marcio reports he was in college but he’s now looking for job, without success. Asked where he lives, Marcio doesn’t answer.

      Jean takes the boy to a café, where Marcio stuffs his face with the sweets he’s purchased. The boy apologizes, but the man simply encourages him to eat. And then, surprisingly, with what we almost suspect might be ulterior motives, if, since he son is no longer living at home, he could stay there if he wanted, interrupting his own offer to reassure him that it’s only a suggestion.

      Marcio’s only question is “does he have a bath?”

     And so a friendship is struck between the two, as Jean offers the young man a bed, his son’s clothing, and a bath, all of which Marcio appreciates with near wonderment, exploring the house after the other has gone to bed, observing the son’s portrait before entering the man’s bedroom and joining him in bed, evidently an unspoken payment for the elder’s humane offering.

     Whether they had sex or not, however, is uncertain, for in the morning Marcio apologizes for having behaved in such a manner, particularly after his host has just offered his house as a place of refuge anytime he may need it, and even hands him a role of francs, for food or water if nothing else.

     Marcio attempts to refuse it, but Jean insists. “I don’t want you to be in trouble. I’m worried about you.” He has become a kind of father.

       Evidently to make sure that the boy does not misunderstand his intentions, he asks whether he might come back next Sunday, but that he promise to take care of himself in the interim.

      In short, the relationship between the two is unclear. Is the boy being paid in advance for another night or is the man simply kind and caring, a bit lonely with a son in such a large apartment? It is clear that Marcio himself is unable to determine the nature of the kindnesses offered him as well.

       Marcio buys a new jacket with some of the money and visits the location provided him by his pimp. It is not what he expected. Besides the man he meets at the door, a young carefully cropped bearded man there are two young handsome men sitting in the room as the first commands he strip off his clothes, and pushes him to the floor. The evening consists obviously of an S&M-like group rape.     

     It is Sunday, the day the boy promised to visit, and Jean is preparing dinner. When Marcio does not show up, he texts him and finally attempts to call him with no answer.

     We see Marcio wandering the streets as if in a daze, startled by what has apparently happened to him, as Jean, having given up on the visit, dozes off to sleep on the couch.

      Finally, there is ring and a knock at the door, and when Jean stumbles over to answer, he finds Marcio there in tears. He hugs him and brings into the room, trying to comfort him, but every time he attempts to touch him, the boy pulls away, “Don’t touch me!” Jean attempts to find out what happened, and when Marcio continues in tears he suggests he call the police or at least take him to a hospital, both options which the boy violently rejects.

      Again Jean attempts to comfort him, to find out what happened. Marcio can only stutter out the words “I was doing things….tonight…I…..He….” Jean insists that this cannot continue and begs him to come live with him where he’ll be treated like a son. He’ll help get a job or even find a way to get him back into college if that’s what he wants.

      We see the boy a bit later standing at the sink, Jean sitting in the living room alone. Finally he stands and goes to check up on the boy. He cautiously turns the doorhandle to his room, looks over to the bed and moves forward.

       Marcio stands on a French boulevard, his hand out with the sign of a hitchhiker. A car pulls up and Marcio gets in the front seat.

       What has happened? Did perhaps Jean also attempt to have sex with him, sending Marcio back into the streets forever? Or has there been no one there in the bed, Marcio having already returned to the streets unable to bear the kindnesses offered him or perhaps presuming that the price for those fatherly ministrations were too much? Or is there something in Marco that actually prefers the danger, the reassurance that he seems throughout to seek in the mirror about his good looks?

       Lemouzy proffers no answers. But it is clear the choices for a young man in a new world without money and position will always be limited. That is the human condition. And sometimes the desire to destroy oneself is as aspect of the human condition as well. If you do not believe you are worth saving, it is difficult to believe that someone might wish to do precisely that. Even the choice to save oneself becomes impossible as well.

       Had I seen this film earlier, it might easily have been included in my 2021 essay titled “Working Boys” which focuses on Gracie Otto’s Broken Beat (2005), Sasha Ettinger Epstein’s Wall Boy (2009), Derek Efrain Villanuva’s Lost Angel (2009)—with which it has numerous resonances—Micah Stuart’s Johnny (2016), Anthony Schatteman’s Petit Ami (2017), and Aiman Hassani’s Khata (2019), along with my discussions of numerous other films about gay prostitution including Polish-born director Wiktor Grodecki’s trio concerning young boy prostitution in the Czech Republic, Andělé nejsou andělé (Not Angels but Angels) (1994) and Tělo bez duše (Body without Soul) (1996), both documentary works, and Mandragora (1997), the fictional conclusion. “Working Boys” appears in the volume devoted to the years 2000-2009.

           

Los Angeles, October 28, 2022

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (October 2022).