Wednesday, March 19, 2025

Gwen Wynne | Wild About Harry (aka American Primitive) / 2009

the unspoken truth

by Douglas Messerli   

 

Mary Beth Fielder and Gwen Wynne (screenplay), Gwen Wynne (director) Wild About Harry (aka American Primitive) / 2009

 

Early in this movie Harry Goodhart (Tate Donovan) tells his daughter Madeline (Danielle Sayre) to keep to her dead mother’s ideals, “Stand up for who you are and what you believe in.” It takes an entire movie for this coddled Cape Codder to even comprehend the message her father is sending her. All right, it’s 1973 and gay rights, despite the Stonewall Inn battles, were only just trickling out to the suburbs. But really Howard and I easily had come out to all of our friends three years previous to this cinematic feature as a couple on the University of Wisconsin—Madison campus. I admit that it was a very liberal world, and we were blessed with open-minded friends, but even the reviews seem to accept the idea that 1973 was still a closed-off world in which no gay need even imagine peer acceptance.


     This is yet another hysterical gay movie, that may have been based on true experiences, but only reveals, once more, the continued terror of the gay experience that seemed to cluster around films in what one might have imagined was a far more open-minded era of the new century, 2009.

     If his groovy, slightly hippie-dressed daughters don’t quite immediately fit into the more Cape Codder’s conservative decorum, they nonetheless soon make friends, and a handsome new man on the island delights the neighborhood ladies, married and widowed.


     At least his younger daughter, Daisy (Skye McCole Bartusiak) is a blessed with a much wilder imagination, constantly interrupting her elder sister’s attempts at accommodation. But, of course,

she doesn’t quite succeed, particularly when Maddy meets the lovely school jock Sam (Corey Sevier), with whom she almost immediately falls in love and impresses with her tennis skills. Enter clumsily, stage left, Josh Peck (Spoke White), a scruffy boy who truly falls in love with Maddy at first sight.

     Madeline becomes a full star tennis player, and Sam Brown’s mother almost admits to Daisy that she’s fallen in love with her father on first sight, in his bathrobe in his front-yard antics of

trying to deliver breakfast to his two bus-bound daughters. Sam’s mother eagerly engages the two daughters, by driving them home so, of course, she can further meet their attractive father. But at that very moment, Harry has posted a new sign, which gives alert to his real “interests,” and most particularly to his new partner, Gibbs & Goodhart, and their new business relationship of which his daughters had absolutely no warning, another eligible bachelor as Mrs. Brown (Anne Tamsay) perceives him to be, a perfect reason to stop by and see their “American Primitives.”  


    Suddenly his daughters are introduced to Mr. Gibbs, Theo (Adam Pascal), as even Martha describes him “the other half.” What none of them seem to be able to perceive is that he is in fact Harry’s lover, who even entertains, since he is a lovely piano player, the entire community with the song “I’m Just Wild About Harry” which is not simply played out in the song’s lyrics but his actual love of Harry Goodhart, Maddy’s father.

    Soon, tagging along with the “in” crowd, Maddy joins her friends at a local Provincetown bar, where she proclaims in the obnoxious youthful innocent of her prejudice that “I’ve never seen a real queer before!” only to discover her father and Theo dancing together at the same bar.


     So begins a spin into an hysterical homophobic world that changes all their lives.

     Maddy, believing it’s just a deviation of his true existence, works hard to throw her dad into the arms of the local women, including Mrs. Brown, meanwhile imagining that she has a real relationship with her son Sam, to whom she confides her fears. But Sam is not at all trustworthy, and word soon spreads throughout the community, with homophobic taunts, and, even worse, the arrival of the highly conservative parents of Harry’s ex-wife, determined to rescue their granddaughters from the life of the debauched gay couple.

    Finally, Maddy is left alone, without seemingly anyone to even take her to the homecoming dance until the loner Josh returns into her life, admitting that he has known about her father from the first moment, and finally making it clear to her that all her desperate troubles, her true hysteria, doesn’t at all matter. He wants to take her out, and that is what matters more than anything in her delimited imagination.

    Finally even the in-laws perceive that Harry and Theo are raising up the girls quite wonderfully. Case closed.


    No, Theo realizes that perhaps they should not be living together, after all it is 1973, and things can still happen, just at the moment when the in-laws reappear and find Harry and Theo engaged in a deep kiss. The in-laws are determined that Madeline and Daisy will now live with them. “The Lord does not allow homosexuals to raise children,” proclaims the father-in-law, reiterating every stupid Christian moralist on the planet. Martha and he are about to take the daughters away from the healthy relationship Harry and Theo have created for their children for absolutely no reason other than they are a homosexual couple.

     Harry brings his daughters together for their sudden exit from their lives, “You’ll spend a few nights with your grandparents, and we’ll work something out.”

      Jason knocks on the door; it is the night of the homecoming party, but, of course, Madeline is not able to make it, as Harry announces. Everything has changed—this being a hysterical movie that cannot possibly imagine that even in 1973 things had altered in another way than the direction this film seems to be heading. You truly want, at this point, to enter the film, and like Cher in Moonstruck (1987) slap their faces and demand they wake up. The passivity of gay men suddenly becomes transparent. They are giving up their entire reality to bigots.

      I wonder, given our own rather wonderful experiences at the same moment whether this was what reality was all about. I cry imagining that it probably was for older gay men in the real world from which Howard and I were so immune. The door closes on Jason, the gentle man who might have been the perfect mate for the confused Madeline. Everything seems to have fallen apart.

     The girls are told that neither of them are to go to their father’s house unless accompanied by their grandparents, and their whispers make clear they are going to file for custody.

     The girls are trying to figure out the conundrum of their father’s sexual shift. Was he always that way, even with their mom? What happened to him to make him so different? But within their proper Cape Cod dinner experience, Maddy again encounters Jason, this time as a restaurant busboy, the young man who brings in the clams for their dinner delight, explaining that “I came to take you out, at your house but you weren’t there,” she admitting that her grandparents took her away from her father.

       Jason tells of his own dilemma, when his brother Paul, constantly in fight with his father, joined the marines, his father describing him as “a selfish jerk.” That was the last time he saw him, the brother having died a couple of years later in Viet Nam. He regrets that he could not comprehend his own brother as family, a fact he only realized in his own elder brother’s death.

      Family, I would argue is a dangerous and tribalistic force, but in this case it helps. “Your family is your family, no matter what. Your dad’s a part of your deal.” Bluntly he explains why she shouldn’t have abandoned what was truly a fully-working family, even if it didn’t fit normative expectations. This rough young man wants to be a part of her “deal” also, expressing a love so much deeper than any young Sam Brown might have ever imagined what love is about.


     Madeline almost immediately after pulls her sister away from the table where her grandparents sit and rejoins their father, this time as a force against any further ado. “We want to stay with you and Mr. Gibbs,” she proclaims. It’s not quite that simple, answers their delighted but confused father. Harry describes his true love of Madeline’s mother, Daisy entering, the poet to say, “Two eternal flames burn in his heart at the same time,” finally relieving her sister’s impossible comprehension of how two very different loves might be possible.

     But the delightful Mr. Gibbs is now moving out, the girls disconsolate for his decision. After all, he was an excellent cook, a loving force, himself a good father to them. He admits he’s trying to find a way for Daisy and Madeline to stay with their father. But Madeline finally admits that he shouldn’t go, that he is very important to her father. “You’re part of the deal,” she quotes Jason’s comments, and in so doing ending the hysteria transforming it into a family situational comedy.

     They unload his baggage, and bring him back into the new family they have now discovered.

     The grandparents return, of course, to reclaim their luggage. They insist that Madeline and Daisy must come with them, but this time, finally, Harry speaks out: “I hate to contradict you, but I’m afraid they don’t” They like Mr. Gibbs. But the traditional heteronormative grandparents finally put it out on the table, “It’s a question of decency, it’s a question of morality.” Suddenly Madeline reveals that when her mother was in the hospital, she asked her “Never let her father grow old alone. And I never knew what she meant. But now I do.”

     That complete transformation of comprehension makes it clear that suddenly this young, quite confused girl, has grown up into a mature woman of utter comprehension overnight. Her grandparents have lost their conservative power. They no longer have a role in either of the granddaughters’ lives. There is nothing more to be said. They too are now wild about Harry—and Theo.

 

Los Angeles, March 18, 2025

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (March 2025).

        

Douglas Messerli | Two Films of Gay Hysteria / 2025

two films of gay hysteria

by Douglas Messerli

 

Before I even begin this essay, I want to make clear that in using the word “hysteria” I am not at all referring to what dictionaries now refer to as “the old fashioned term for a disorder characterized by neurological symptoms often accompanied by exaggeratedly or inappropriately emotional behavior, originally attributed to disease of injury of the nervous system and later though to be functional or psychological in origin,” and usually applied to women and gay men. My use of the word is the general contemporary and modern use of the word to suggest an “exaggerated or uncontrollable emotion or excitement.”


     In this case, I am speaking about two movies—long after the mythical gay enlightenment of Stonewall, in both cases using as their excuse a period before that event—whose characters behave in a manner that seems so alien to the conditions of 2009, when both of these films appeared, that it creates a kind of conundrum for someone like me, well versed in gay cinema, why they were even made.

    In both films there is an exaggerated sense of behavior in a time in which Howard and I had easily come out as a couple and that films were being made that showed an entirely different view of the gay world than in 2009 I can’t quite even recognize the issues they attempt to bring up. Granted, Howard and I lived in a privileged world of university life, surrounded by liberal friends. In fact, our entire lives, even later in the museum world and for me in the university, protected us from having to face the general prejudices of US society, despite my own parents’ inability to quickly adjust. But if these films are to be believed, and I suspect they are outrageous exaggerations, in which the only worlds that Stonewall effected were small communities in New York City, San Francisco, Los Angeles, and other urban areas. The rest of the world remained terrified by the realities of gay life. Perhaps I simply missed out knowing that reality. But why suddenly in 2009 did Evgeny Afineevsky in Oy Vey! My Son Is Gay! and female director Gwen Wynne in her film Wild About Harry feel compelled to remind us of this fact? Wynne, in particular has been an outspoken champion of “unspoken” stories and an important supporter of gay causes. And Israeli director Afineevsky has made several important documentaries on how divorce effects children, and other perfectly reasonable films. One has to wonder what was in the air in 2009 to make both directors dabble in a kind of hysteria that roars through these films. Barack Obama had just been inaugurated as President. History had been made as the first black man became our nation’s leader.

     Did these intelligent forces suddenly feel, accordingly, the need to go back in time and reveal what it was like before such a new force? Having no way to properly explain it, I have just noted it, almost as an aside. Neither film is brilliant, and neither of these films offers anything really new in its perspectives. But they both, quite similarly, bring up familiar reactions far out of whack with what seems to have been the truth of the times, and was certainly not at all of great interest to 2009 audiences.

 

Los Angeles, March 19, 2025

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (March 2025).

Tuesday, March 18, 2025

Eli Lieb | Boys Who Like Boys / 2021

show me

by Douglas Messerli

 

Paul David Hager (mixer), Emily Lazar at The Lodge Mastering (master), Eli Lieb (music and performance) Boys Who Like Boys / 2021 [3 minutes]

 

We no longer have directors of music videos evidently, but only mixers and masters. Nonetheless, Eli Lieb’s 2021 music video Boys Who Like Boys is most definitely a gay work. I have now created a kind of limit regarding my gay music videos. If the singer, like Lieb, is even known to be gay but sings a song without any aural or visual gay referents that might not be equally applied to a heterosexual relationship, it does not belong in my pages.


      Only in a song such as this, blatantly gay, talking about or visually displaying gay images—this video does both—will I include it. I’ve had enough already about imagining gay encounters through music, even though Lieb, openly gay, makes it quite clear he is generally singing about other men. Talk about it, fine, but show me, I now demand.

      And in his 2021 video Boys Who Like Boys he does precisely that, serving up a host of images of men in LGBTQ-colored tutus, ready men with Love posted on their T-shirts, and cute guys perfectly ready to go straight to bed in a song laced with a plea of total gay acceptance:

     Lieb regularly crosses over to the kinds of songs that any girl might imagine that she is the subject. But when this gay man finally expresses his true loves, despite the pop-lite songs, he comes into his own, and sings quite beautiful ballads of gay love. That is what makes him interesting, despite his own attempts, at moments, to whitewash his gay heritage. He’s a sweet and handsome midwestern boy, who needs to keep making it clear that he’s not waiting in his Iowa home (actually he now lives in Los Angeles) for some chick to come calling. This video makes it quite obvious that he is one of those boys “who like boys.”

 

“When I was younger no one could stop me from acting like a kid

Was who I was there was no pretending lord knows the things I did

Then I got older a little stronger and I'd hold hands with guys

And walk around the cold concrete with a wall of judgment eyes

So what's your problem with boys who like boys

Maybe we just want a little love

Boys who like boys

Know one holds you like a big man does

Go keep on hating I'll just keep dancing

With boys who like boys



Yeah I just want a little love

And now you've made it your little mission to rain on my parade

It wasn't like I woke up one morning and decided to be gay

Look in the mirror and ask the question what are you trying to hide

I hope that you can find it out but I'm gonna live my life

So what's your problem with boys who like boys

Maybe we just want a little love

Boys who like boys

Know one holds you like a big man does

Go keep on hating I'll just keep dancing

With boys who like boys”

 

Los Angeles, March 18, 2025

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (March 2025).

Nick Rowland | Slap / 2014

trying to explain transsexual behavior

by Douglas Messerli

 

Islay Bell-Webb and Nick Rowland (screenplay, based on a story by Rowland), Nick Rowland (director) Slap / 2014 [25 minutes]

 

Young teenage boxer Connor (Joe Cole) is in love with Lola (Skye Ourie). He’s good boxer, winning most of his amateur bouts, due to his father’s training. Lola invites him to her birthday party, which he reluctantly accepts.


     What he hasn’t told anyone is that he is also a transgender man who likes to put on make-up and dresses, and does just that for Lola’s party, arriving basically as a drag queen and outing his secret desires to a group of his peers.

     Even before his public presentation, however, he is faced with his gay friend Archie (Elliott Tittensor) running from a group of homophobes set on beating him, knocking on his door to be let into his house. Connor seems frozen, desiring to save his friend, but at the same time unable to yet reveal his secret. Archie pounds at the door, as Connor slinks down the staircase, horrified of full revelation.



  Yet finally, he can longer accept the fact that his friend is being beaten, and runs, in full dress and makeup to his defense, quickly scaring off the two offenders. Archie can hardly believe his eyes, once he can again open them after being somewhat beaten. Yet Connor invites his friend in to mend his wounds, still in full female attire.

    Archie cannot help but laugh, explaining that his friend doesn’t exactly look like a girl, Connor shouting back that he doesn’t want to look like “a fucking girl, do I?” How does one explain the transsexual to even a gay man. Most transsexuals are not homosexuals, and although gays love their covert performances, they realize that generally the drag queens or even those who simply dress up in female costumes are not necessarily interested in their same sex as bed partners.

    The tough boxer Connor, begs his friend to just “make him feel all right.” And Archie argues that it doesn’t matter. Yet Connor knows it does very much matter to the world in which he lives. Archie, however, asks one of the most tender questions possible, “How’d you do your eyeliner? It’s good.”

    Connor shows his gay friend his arsenal of make-up, relating that it’s on line; it gives you tips and stuff. And the two now truly bond sharing a world that no one in their world can communicate. It is as if together they are sharing a treasure world which Lola and Connor’s father would find impossible to accept.

     “How long have you been practicing for?” asks Archie.

     “Since I was a kid.”

     Suddenly, it as if the macho boy Connor has peeled away a secret ritual world he has been hiding within himself and enacting only in his bedroom.

     Lola shows up to his gym, having been told by Archie how he has saved his life, but of course Connor might well fear what else he might have said, although apparently he has just expressed the heroics of his friend.

     Yet Connor knows his secret cannot long be kept. Lola once more invites him to her party, saying “dress up, remember?”


     And so in this impossible narrow-minded world, Connor comes dressed to the party as a full woman, coat, dress, make-up, and full regalia of femineity.

      Lola is aghast, but the rest of his peers, seeing simply as a kind of outrageous costume finally clap into their midst, Lola even finally coming to terms with his appearance. But he knows they are applauding the ridiculousness of his dress, not the necessity. And in a sense, his mirror finally cracks as in the bathroom into which he has retreated his first encounters a drunken Lola, who tries to suggests his costume is “cute,” and then is sympathetically greeted by Archie, who simultaneously attempt to express his desire and love of his friend, which lands him a harsh slug, not a slap. At this point Lola reenters attempting to comprehend the commotion, only to have Archie explain that he hit him, and Connor expressing his horror that Archie tried to kiss him, Archie attempting to explain to Lola that this is not a mere “costume.” In a sense, Connor has suddenly been betrayed by both of those he most loves. Archie insists he’s gay, while Connor attempts to explain the inexplicable to a close-minded world: “It’s not like that.” When Lola discovers her own missing bracelet and a bottle of lost Chanel perfume in Connor’s make-up kit, it becomes clear to her that he’s more than a little “different,” but queer in a manner that she cannot explain to herself. It ends, obviously, with a series of slaps from Lola, and cutting off of his relationship with Archie. There now is no going back.


      The movie ends, unfortunately as it must, with Connor returning to the boxing ring and beating his opponent so brutally that even his father has to enter in to end the fight. Connor has sadly lost all perspective about what it means to be a male.

      British director Rowland explains his inspiration: “Growing up my idols were the likes of Eddie Izzard and David Bowie. I have always admired people who have the courage to express themselves in any way they want without it necessarily having anything to do with their sexuality. I’m interested in how people like to put others in boxes. If someone can’t be put neatly into a certain box, people don’t know how to label you and they freak out.”

      In this case, however, it is the performer himself that cannot accept his own problematic cross-over definitions of experience. The disjuncture will probably never be gapped.

 

Los Angeles, March 18, 2005

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (March 2025).

 

 

 

Stephen Winter | Chocolate Babies / 1996

fighting for love and dignity

by Douglas Messeerli

 

Stephen Winter (screenwriter and director) Chocolate Babies / 1996

 

Superficially, as the brief Wikipedia commentary purports, Stephen Winter’s 1996 film Chocolate Babies “follows a group of queer activists of color in New York City that implemented actions against conservative politicians in response to the AIDS epidemic in the 1990s within African American communities.”


     Perhaps that’s why this truly significant and moving work, although receiving a great deal of praise upon its original release, simply failed to gain traction and was left behind on the cinematic shelf, only recently, in 2021, to be taken up again by Criterion Classics and reperceived to be an essential work in the 1990s AIDS canon. The film was also featured this year in New York’s Newfest as one of their lost classics.

     What most critics of the past seemed and critics today still seem unable to do is to individualize the characters of this work, and to discuss them as part of the film’s complex narrative as opposed to a single-minded social statement, which the film is certainly not.

       As a commentator on Letterboxd (Liz) recently opined, quite touchingly, this film is “a dizzying visual mixtape that follows a gang of (mostly) HIV-positive queer people of color and their loud direct action war against the conservative politicians who continue to do nothing to stop the spread of the disease decimating their communities, straight and gay. That’s an irresistible hook, but what really surprised me is how Winter uses this premise as a jumping off point for examinations of addiction, alcoholism, abortion, identity, religion, the closet, and the realities of queer inner city life in the 90s. The result is something that feels wholly unique—loud, angry, transgressive, messy, queer. And get this—it’s really funny, too.”


      The group of activists themselves represent an odd and messy mix of individuals. Sam (Jon Kit Lee), dying of AIDS and accordingly somewhat cynical and bitter, and the flamboyant often argumentative overweight gay man Larva (Dudley Findlay Jr.) are the core of the group, along with the strong female follower Jamela (Suzane Gregg Ferguson) and transvestites/transgender figures Lauretta (Michael Hyatt) and Lady Marmalade (Michael Lynch), the latter a drug addict who, if she is sometimes too incapacitated to fully participate in their activities, has nonetheless been given some of the film’s most poignant and politically charged lines: “Some folks got AIDS, and some folks got Magic Johson Disease. Folks with Magic Johnson disease are innocent victims. Well, I ain’t got Magic Johnson Disease.” Each of these figures is given a rich screen presence, and their interactions, personal fights with one another, and deep love for the others makes up a far more important portion of the film than does their actual attacks on bigoted and ignorant politicians who have not bothered to pay attention to the AIDS crisis of their communities.


      Crucial to this mix is the sort of moral compass to the off-kilter group, Max (Claude E. Sloan), an Asian-American with whom Sam is desperately in love and for who Max serves as a sort of lover/savior.

      The younger Max, however, is also naïve. Working for the local Councilman Melvin Freeman (Bryan Webster), he keeps suggesting that group become more cogently political, engaging in the robbery of files he believes Freeman keeps on all the AIDS patients in his district. But over the time Freeman, a highly closeted black gay man, himself becomes infatuated with Max and sexually approaches him, offering the young Asian a position even if he is elected, as he hopes to be, to Congress.

       It is difficult to determine whether or not Max is himself taken in by Freeman’s sexual invitations or simply sees it as an opportunity to further worm his and his friends into the records which might help to scandalize all those who have not acted to help their constituencies suffering from AIDS. At one point he seems to buy into Freeman’s excuse for not bringing an AIDS clinic to his district, the Councilman arguing that it would only further represent the difficult conditions of living there.

       On the other hand, Max suggests that if they were to kidnap Freeman they might easily be able to unveil the hidden records. But our small “radical” gathering of misfits, to date having only tossed blood (not their own) upon their political victims or threatened them verbally for their political views, have no intention of getting themselves arrested. In a sense, their own loose-ended connections and their obviously weakened health have saved them from being revealed, even though the attacked politicians grossly exaggerate the group’s numbers and power, promising to bring down the “evil gang.”


      None of these misfits bother to listen to Max’s recommendations about serious political endeavors. Suddenly Max himself, after a date or two with Freeman, kidnaps the Councilman, who seems almost willingly to go along with the group, even as they travel en masse to visit Sam’s sister and other family members with whom, because of his sexuality and disease, have long ago cut their ties with him. For a moment, it appears that Freeman, like Sam, is so in love with Max that he’s willing to almost “join the gang.”

      Max himself comes out to his highly distraught Asian mother, whose only solution seems to agree to his being sent away for a while to personally come to terms with his sexuality and racial roots.

       Meanwhile, as these folks’ illnesses get worse, their addictions make life almost impossible, and death begins to descend upon several of them, sans Max they become only a band a ragtag squabblers who can’t even save themselves let alone provide political actions that might ignite their community into action.

       Max returns to a dying Sam, holding his hand and kissing him as the two admit to their true dedication and love, far too late to be able to repair the vast gulf of death now between them.


 


      By the end of this emotionally moving movie, we recognize that Chocolate Babies is not really about political action, despite the tiny brave actions that this “gang” has achieved, but about the last stand of a gaggle of individuals who respect and love each other both for what they share and for what makes them each so very different.

       As director Stephen Winter himself describes his characters and their actions: “They’re brave, individualistic, fabulous and tight. They are fighting for their basic dignity.”

       Along with the most powerful of AIDS films, Arthur J. Bressan Jr.’s Buddies (1985), Bill Sherwood’s Parting Glances (1986), Jerry Tartaglia’s A.I.D.S.C.R.E.A.M (1988), Norman René’s Longtime Companion (1989), Roger Spottiswoode’s And the Band Played On (1993), and Derek Jarman’s Blue (1993), Chocolate Babies leaves one in tears and anger for all those who died of AIDS, both fictional characters and the real human beings who they represent.

 

Los Angeles, November 5, 2023

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (November 2025).

 

Index R-Z

Angelo Raaijmakers I, Adonis / 2021 Peeter Rabane Firebird / 2021   Tyler Rabinowitz Catalina / 2022 Tyler Rabinowitz See You Soon / 20...