Thursday, May 28, 2026

Lou Cheruy Zidi | Boy Oh Boy / 2018 [music video]

into the woods

by Douglas Messerli (scenario and director) Boy Oh Boy / 2018 [5 minutes] [music video]

 

In this French music video featuring Sufjan Stevens’s “Visions of Gideon,” a group of male and female lovelies in their 20s (Joss Berlioux, Alexandre Bouyer, Clara Cisse, Louis Cristiani, Sara Etienne, Lucia Passaniti, and Samba Peul) meet up at a camping overnight trip in woods near a lake, as in most such picture-postcard portrayals leaping into the water, giggling, and making out with each other beside a crackling bonfire. The girls shake their hair with absolute pleasure as the boys caress their shoulders.


     But these days, you know, things aren’t always what they seem to be. Two of the women began a deep kissing event in the middle of their surrounding male friends. At one moment a heavily tatted dude (Bouyer) suddenly stands and challenges the handsome Joss Berlioux as if he has been flirting with his girl. But in the midst of their violent encounter, poised over the prone body, he kisses his victim, and they can soon be seen from a distance having sex in a car before they return to the group.

      The rest of the group, having decided to go skinny dipping in the lake, don’t even miss them. And in the morning Berlioux’s girlfriend comes up behind him, tickling his neck and a slightly brooding Bouyer staring out over the lake, turns back to quickly give his friend a quick look—whether of joyful remembrance or disdain cannot be determined.


   Whether or not anything might change in the sexual dynamics of this group, or whether it will simply be chalked up to a few too many beers is undetermined. Certainly, no one at this gathering gives much deep thought to anything but their beauty and momentary urges.

       This work is interesting to queer film audiences only in how deeply entrenched LGBTQ life as become even in the musical video world, the culmination of which we can observe in the works of Lil Nas X.

 

Los Angeles, September 23, 2022

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (September 2022).

 

Wednesday, May 27, 2026

Rufus Shaljean | Not Another Coming Out Story / 2025

an emptied world

by Douglas Messerli

 

Rufus Shaljean (screenwriter and director) Not Another Coming Out Story / 2025 [26 minutes]

 

Two gay south London teens are deep friends, perhaps on the verge of a relationship, but not admitting it or maybe even quite wanting it, yet feeling a closeness that comes from a sense of isolation from those who surround them. Mostly they smoke, drink, and, later, take drugs, discussing who they might like for sex partners.


   Tommy (Rufus Shaljean), the less experienced of the two even imagines that after they finish school they might just travel together some place else, and wonders if his friend Star (James Ryan Nunn) might really contemplate doing that with him.


     They meet up with a drug dealer (Alexander Summers) who offers them a panoply of drugs, explaining to them the drug “G” (Gamma-Hydroxybutyric acid, also known as the date rape drug). “Imagine someone dancing with you,” he suggests, but is not truly interested in you. “G is the cheat code to make them horny.” Actually, it doesn’t make the date horny at all, it simply incapacitates them, and ingested in a drink puts them asleep in about 15 minutes, allowing the provider to have sex with them without their permission. “Those taking it will have lower inhibitions and feel a sense of euphoria. You just have to make sure not to overdose.”

     “Why?” asks Star.

     “You will lose motor functions, have respiratory difficulties, and you will fall under or die.”

     It can, however, be counteracted by taking some stimulants. The dealer demands they pay him and leave.


     We know already that for these kids, danger lies ahead.

     They are about to test the drug, Tommy losing his virginity in the process. But just before taking any drugs, Star and Tommy and an intimate moment and begin to kiss, revealing their love for each other. But it is Jake (Cameron Wright) whom he has expected to make to love to him, not his best friend with whom he jerks off.


     Jake shows up and Tommy and he begin to make out, while Star makes a Grindr meet-up with “John.” As Jake and Tommy kiss, both for the first time, Star is served some G by John (Marlon Kemeka), evidently a requirement in John’s sexual encounters. The dosage is too strong, and it apparent, that despite the pleas for John to stop, Star dies, while Tommy enters sexual nirvana.

      Tommy may be now with Jake, but he no longer is truly happy, filled with the feelings that he shared with Star.


     Tommy forgets to pick his younger sister, Maddie (Maddy Hunter), from school. He is now regularly on drugs. Everything, including the film, is in now in black and white. His sister wants to things to return to normal, but how can that be possible for Tommy who has lost his best friend? He even offers Maddie one of his regular pills, what he realizes in hindsight, was not very responsible action. But faced with the disappearance of his best friend, the drugs create what he describes as “a silence in his head.”

     It’s not actually “silent,” he admits, but he feels like the whole world is empty and he is the only one left behind. And once again, he has forgotten about Maddie, who apparently has been left in Jake’s hands, he also attempting to offer her drugs. Maddie finally reacts to Tommy’s complete irresponsibility, querying him about giving drugs to a 14-year old. Jake, Tommy discovers through her, has no love for Tommy, but simply feels sorry for him.

      Finally, moving through the pictures on his cellphone, Tommy discovers and almost expired photo of John, and he immediately hooks up with him.


      John immediately offers him a drink of water, demanding he drink it all up. And we wonder, why, knowing vaguely what happened to Star, would he even accept the drink surely filled with G?

     He passes out, but apparently recovers after spiritually recommunicating his friend Star. The last scene show him, now in full color, apologizing to his sister, explaining that he feels responsible for Star’s death. But finally, he has been able to move on.

      I have to say this was not an appealing film to me, a man who has never much been intrigued by drugs outside of alcohol. The film won several awards when it first appeared, but the approval makes no sense when one of the two central figures dies from their careless use of drugs, and the other also becomes a near-victim.

      The pair might have made a lovely couple if only they would have survived. But as it is, it is a warning without a clear message, and the apologia comes far too late to mean anything for either of them, let alone his neglected sister. And where are their parents in this dystopian world?

 

Los Angeles, May 27, 2026

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (May 2026).

     

Tuesday, May 26, 2026

Papu Curotto | Esteros / 2016

back to the beginning

by Douglas Messerli

 

Andi Nachon (screenwriter), Papu Curotto (director) Esteros / 2016

 

Based on a script by Nachon with direction by Curotto from 2015, a short film titled Matias and Jeronimo, this movie of the following year can’t match the beauty and exquisite-horror of the early short film. The two boys in that film, Rodrigo Coutinho Da Silva and Gabriel Rost, are far more lovely and innocent than the slightly older child actors, Joaquín Parada as the young Matías and Blas Finardi Niz as the child version of Jerónimo in Esteros.

     Yet, the movie as a whole is quite moving and fulfilling, even if one wishes that it might have included the terrifying scene when a lovely gay dancer in the local Carnival Madi Gras is beaten and left for dead at the black the bleachers where the boys sit, an incident which they observe and explains why perhaps the older Matías of the film, Ignacio Rogers, is slightly homophobic and imagines that he is a straight man, now in a relationship with a woman named Rochi (Renata Calmon), whom he has brought back to the Esteros or Tidelands from Brazil, his new homeland. She also seems to know her way around the small Tidelands town.


    His visit, it quickly becomes apparent, is not only because of his love of region, but his particular obsession with the estuaries near the farm where Jerónimo (Esteban Masturini) lived with his family, particularly his wonderful accepting mother Marilú (María Merlino) who endlessly took snapshots of the boys as if she recognized that their simple boyish affection and later adolescent sexual experimentation was far more than just early male bonding.

    We discern quite quickly in this film when we realize that Matías has told Rochi a great deal about his love of the farm near the estuaries without explaining to her that the home was where Jero lived with his parents, not the home of his own family.

     Jerónimo, in the meantime, who has remained in the backland instead moving on to the cities, has abandoned his possible career as a film director and his now happily involved in creating small action figures and creating small scenes of them for actions films. He still occasionally works as a make-up artist, which is how Rochi knows him, and with knowledge of his intimate childhood friendship with her boyfriend, having asked him to help make over Matías as a zombie for a costume party she and he are attending.

     Jeró is now openly gay, and seeing him again after all these years obviously enlivens Matías’ interest, although he strongly resists the pull of the old relationship, now equally impatient with his girlfriend. Immediately we perceive that something’s got to give, particularly when even Rochi, surprised that he has an old friend in the village, encourages him to meet up.

     Matías does so, as the two basically evaluate each other lives, realizing that neither of them have fully lived their potentials. But Matías is also fascinated by the fact that Jeró has remained in his beloved tidelands as an openly gay man, while Matías has chosen a straight life in which he is clearly unhappy. While he once dreamed of becoming a wildlife biologist, he is now employed in researching a new strain of soybeans.

     Jerónimo, on the other hand, has not become the director that dreamed of being, but is somewhat happy just making small movie action figures which are often used as figures in movie scenes. Both realize, without saying so, that there is something missing—and although they cannot yet admit it, they subliminally register that missing element is one another.

     Jerónimo, in particular, does not attempt a full expression of his feelings, going about his daily acts almost as gesture of his separation from his former childhood friend, Matías misunderstanding several of his friend’s hugs and friendly relationships with other males as representing relationships, which finally Jeró makes clear are only friendships; he has not found a companion with whom he wants a relationship.


     If Matías appears to have found the love of his life, we realize, particularly in Rochi’s need to constantly remind him of their love for one another, that something is not quite right, Matías passively accepting her hugs and kisses while yet remaining somehow aloof.

     When Jerónimo tells him that his mother and father still live on the farm in the estuaries where Matías spent so many of his summers, he is totally complicit that two should out a day to revisit it. They arrive to find Jeró’s parents away, due back perhaps that night, but actually the next day.

     Jerónimo suggest they revisit their old playing grounds, the nearby swamps wherein as children they imagined to be infested with alligators and snakes, but nonetheless, stripped off they clothes, jumped into swim, wrestle, and fling mud at one another, later to be forced to shower together in childhood eroticism resulting later in adolescent in masturbatory sessions with one another.

    Not trusting Jeró’s ancient truck, Matías borrows Rochi’s car to travel to the place. This time they boat to their old destination, as somewhat distant adults. For the first time, they along with us as voyeurs, actually take in the full beauty of the estuaries, the natural habitat of so many birds and other wild life. And there, suddenly Matías pulls off his shirt and dives in dressed in his blue jeans, Jeró following where they swim, wrestle, and repeat their childhood pleasures.


   By the time they return home it is raining heavily, and Matías pretends concern for Rochi’s car, both realizing that they cannot drive back to the town in such a tropical downpour.

    Jerónimo pours out scotches, and Matías turns on the music, the two of them briefly dancing together which they also freely did as children, although always with a slight sense of dis-ease.

     He attempts to telephone Rochi, but can’t seen to reach—or perhaps merely pretends to.

    Matías is determined to get some ice for their drinks in the kitchen, delighted to see the very same small fridge from old days. But the door is coming loose, and although he attempts to screw back in the bolts, he fails, Jeró joining him to quickly fix the situation.

    It is as if in Jeró’s easy accomplishment of the task that Matías suddenly realizes his complete ineptness at attempting to live as a straight macho male who might “take care” of his female lover. He realizes that he is indeed inept, passive, perhaps not even interested in heterosexual sex. The shock of realization terrifies him, and he suddenly charges out back into the rain to sit out a long period in the car, while the startled Jerónimo awaits he return.


   When he finally does come back into the house, something earthshattering has happened. For now when he enters, he suddenly kisses his old friend and two begin to engage is glorious sex, even when they hear Jeró’s parents have returned home, simply relocating to Jeró’s bedroom where they continue to fuck.

   In the morning they appear without shame to Jerónimo’s mother, who seems to accept the fact that they slept together now as full adults. She even offers a photograph on her cadenza she has taken of two boys laying together as children. But Matías does not take it. He now knows that he must face a future that he is not at all reader to accept. He returns to town, cautiously returning to their apartment. Roschi, smart woman that she is, has perceived what has occurred, and refuses, as they later sit of the staircase to hash it out, for him to even touch her. She demands that he listen to her, always the dominant one in their relationship. Her statement is not one of devastation or even disappointment. She simply insists that Matías return to his true love.


    Unlike so many thousands of unhappy movies where the male is still unable to overcome his learned homophobia, or to release himself from his myth of his heterosexuality, Matías immediately seeks out Jerónimo in the small shop where he sells many of his models of action heroes. The two kiss, and it is clear they have found themselves to their utter delight in love with the person they had always hoped to become their lovers. As in a fairytale, we know these two will continue to live happily together until the end of their lives.

 

Los Angeles, May 26, 2026

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (May 2026).

 

 

 

 

Tyler Rabinowitz | Catalina / 2022

a kiss in the night

by Douglas Messerli

 

Sam DiGiovanni (screenplay), Tyler Rabinowitz (director) Catalina / 2022 [16 minutes]

 

Like the film I reviewed above, Hard, Tyler Rabinowitz’s beautiful short film of 2022, Catalina, explores the territory where friendship and sexuality cross over, particularly between a gay man and two who at least who describe themselves as heterosexual.


      In this case we are presented with three young men in their late 20s, high school friends getting together for what may be the very last time before they turn 30. Gus (played by the film’s screenwriter Sam DiGiovanni) is gay and a writer who has moved on to New York, while Brian (Ben Holtzmuller) and Will (Ronald Peet) remain in their hometown, presumably in or near Los Angeles, meeting up on Catalina Island, a place where they often vacationed together in their youths. When the movie opens, Gus has evidently arrived and rented a speed boat and is waiting for the other two to come in by ferry.

      Moments later, they arrive, deeply hug one another and set off to parts of the island where most tourists never visit. Throughout the film they search out strange outcroppings as they camp  overnight, go snorkeling with some of the best deep water photography I’ve ever seen in a short gay film, and sit around the campfire simply catching up on their lives. Nothing much happens, yet a hidden facts and deeply felt emotions are shared.


      Brian, the least fascinating of these figures, is about to be married and spends time on the telephone having to talk about what wedding flowers she prefers, something which he admittedly knows little about and jokes to Gus that it is something he will never have to worry about. Gus reminds him, a just a little miffed by his insensitive remark, that gay marriage is now legal, even if he doesn’t seem to have a potential hubby on the horizon or apparently even a boyfriend—although DiGiovanni’s good looks make that he nearly inconceivable. Brian attempts to explain it away, shifting the conversation to the subject of the woman behind the choice of flowers, something which Gus will surely never have to worry about, but also suggesting a bit of sexism even in that remark.

    But otherwise, we learn little more about Brian and wonder what role he played in the friendship of long ago.


   Will and Gus, on the other hand, seem to share a deeper relationship. And when it is revealed that Will has dropped out of law school, something to which apparently he has long been devoted, it is Gus who keeps asking questions while Brian seems to smooth over it, while Will himself dismisses it. Evidently he didn’t have the intellect or the nature for studying law, something a great many would-lawyers discover in the process of working toward the bar. But although he washes over the meaning of his action, it is apparent that he has no other immediate future plans and is lost in the process, with unspoken feelings that draws the two closer as they share the two days and nights of their group campout.

      As night falls we see Gus in the tent apparently sleeping between the two of his buddies, but while we can generally spot Will on is left, Brian remains out of view, and when we do spot him he’s marching around the tent speaking on his phone.

      During their underwater adventures, Will accidently scrapes his foot, and Gus takes out the medical supplies and mends the cut, while Brian offers the solace of alcohol.  After hamburgers and lighter entertainment, we observe Gus and Will sitting up late, talking once again. This time Will asks the questions, “Did you always know you wanted to write?

      Gus answers, “It was the only thing I loved doing.”


     And the response helps to answer how Will feels about himself and his life at this moment in time, when they are all supposedly at their prolific stage of their lives. “You’re actually doing the thing you wanted to do. I don’t have a single clue what makes me happy.”

      Gus has to admit that he is happy in life, while Brian seems at edge even with his “happy” occasion soon coming up. And Will is lost, removed from the flow of life that his other friends seem to be participating in, for better or worse.

    Gus suggests that he come to New York and live an unemployed life for a while until he finds himself—frankly a rather unthinking comment given the enormous costs of the city today, no longer the world in which a young person might have gotten on with little financial means. Yet I think perhaps writer DiGiovanni meant that as a kind a hyperbole, not a reality; and in any event Gus offers him the possibility of living with him until he finds his way. More importantly, it is the only honest concern that friends and, from we hear, family seem to really have proffered. And Gus’ open concern is clearly appreciated.

       This time in the middle of the night when Gus awakes, Will’s arm has been draped over him, and he whispers to Gus, wondering if he’s cold. When Gus meekly responds, Will snuggles up even closer, almost like a lover, and a few moments later Gus turns to him and kisses him on the lips.

       Clearly, he immediately feels he has perhaps gone too far. And in the morning as they prepare for their final swim, both men are quiet and removed.

       Will and Brian go into the water, while Gus hangs back. Finally, he enters as well, Will inching closer, eventually putting his arm around him and keeping it there firmly in place to assure him, perhaps, that love of any kind is always permitted between such good friends, or perhaps hinting that Gus’ love, sexual or otherwise, is not something that he would necessarily reject.


        Of course, gay men will innately wonder does might it mean if Will does show up on Gus’ New York doorstep in the near future? But as in D’Oench’s Hard, that isn’t truly the issue. For the two are already lovers in the deeper sense.

        As DiGiovanni has written about his own work: “Underneath the labels and rigid definitions of sexuality and gender lies a deep desire to be intimate and to be understood, especially by those closest to us. We are creating a film that speaks directly to that desire.”

        I truly admired director Tyler Rabinowitz’s sophomore film work See You Soon (2020), and equally respected this movie. He is most certainly a filmmaker to be watched.

 

Los Angeles, October 18, 2022

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (October 2022).

Kristina Arjona | Max / 2020

a balm to help the bad to pass

by Douglas Messerli

 

Jono Mitchell (screenplay), Kristina Arjona (director) Max / 2020 [10 minutes]

 

In Kristina Arjona’s short film Max we get to meet a character who doesn’t turn up that often in contemporary LGBTQ films: an overweight, very recently divorced figure, Jeremy (played by the film’s writer Jono Mitchell) who, even before things grow hot with the call boy he’s ordered up— Max (Gregory Piccirilli)—he wants slow things down a bit.


     Fortunately, Max is an accommodating sort, who offers himself as being open to Jeremy’s seeming whims. But Max does observe that it’s Jeremy’s first time with a call boy, which Jeremy at first denies, but then wittily comments about Max’s surefire observations: “So tonight’s going to be magical whether I like it or not?”

     We recognize suddenly that we are in somewhat different territory from the usual confrontation between such types, that Arjona’s film is not going to be about a man coming to terms with his sexuality, but rather one struggling to come to terms with why his relationship has not worked and perhaps, given his personal problems, he may never find another person to replace the one he’s lost.

     But Max doesn’t back down easily. In response to the comment about magic, he replies: “Depends, what’s your budget?”

     Jeremy admits he could afford a little magic.

     He continues, “My husband took half of it in the divorce.”

     The divorce took place, so Jeremy admits, only this morning. And he wonders whether Max might not perceive him as a bad person for signing the papers and calling up someone immediately after to have sex.

     But Max, now perceiving the situation, wonders, “Who says we have to have sex?”

     The metaphoric “ball” is now Jeremy’s court. He undresses.

     “So what do you think?

     “About what?

     “About me.”


     Max smiles. “I like you. I think you’re cute.”

    “That’s bullshit. Tell me. Nothing you can say can be worse than what my husband’s said or what I’ve said to myself. …They call me a monster.”

     There’s little else to be said, as Jeremy’s self-loathing and exhaustion becomes so apparent that all he really does need is someone there for him to lay his head upon his chest and reconsider some of the years of turmoil he’s just suffered.

     True, there were good times, but as Max points out, we mostly remember the worst. And the worst memories for the overweight, not terribly attractive Jeremy are nearly overwhelming. To summarize: “We reached this point when we’d just sit in silence cut off from the outside world. Because hating each other at home was more convenient than doing in the company of others. Marriage became this void that we wanted to fill with anything other than love and appreciation of the other person.”

     Yet, when Max suggests he never wants to get married, Jeremy strangely shifts, asking “Why…because the good times can be some of the best moments of your life.

      “And what about the bad?”

      “They pass. No one can feel this awful forever.”


      Max kisses him, but Jeremy finally asks him to stop. “Will you hold me? …Just lie here quietly and don’t hate me.”

      And so Max does, Jeremy finally finding a sense of comfort his arms, still throwing out names that imagines might be Max’s real name, since no one these days names their son Max.

   This short film, so very well acted, is remarkable for what it doesn’t do—to become a large confessional cry fest or a drama of pain and regret. The gentle arms of max, rather, represents a new commitment to possible love and life after the void he has endured—a balm that helps the bad to pass.

 

Los Angeles, June 25, 2023

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (June 2023).

Index of Titles (director, title, date) R-Z

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