Tuesday, January 9, 2024

Michael Curtiz | Casablanca / 1942

where’s rick going?

by Douglas Messerli

 

Julius J. Epstein, Philip G. Epstein, and Howard Koch (screenplay, based on a play Everybody Comes To Rick's by Murray Burnett and Joan Alison), Michael Curtiz (director) Casablanca / 1942

 

No sooner are we told that in Casablanca everybody "waits and waits and waits," than we are treated to an evening at Rick's, where the waiting, at least, is pleasurable, a place where "everybody comes" to hear music, drink, gamble, tell secrets and buy black market goods. Who wouldn't want to come?

     On top of that, the producers have emptied out the Warner Brothers' closet a host of character actors to support the three top stars, Humphrey Bogart, Ingrid Bergman, and Paul Henreid. Any movie that has Claude Rains, Sydney Greenstreet, Peter Lorre, S. Z. Sakall, Dooley Wilson, and Leonard Kinskey just has to be good, and Casablanca has dozens of other capable supporting actors as well.

 

    Everybody probably has at one time spent the evening at Ricks, so I won't take up much time describing the plot. I simply remind the reader that, after running guns to Ethiopia, and fighting on the Republican side in the Spanish Civil War, Rick Blaine has opened a bar in Paris just in time to fall in love with a beautiful woman who abandons him the moment the Germans enter the city.

     Now in Casablanca he owns and manages his popular night spot. The only trouble is that Rick is still harboring both bitterness and love over that long ago incident. He bans his piano player, Sam, to ever play the couple's favorite song, "As Time Goes By," and seems not to have found another woman to replace the one he's lost.

     As the movie begins, he's just "thrown away," as Captain Louis Renault describes it, Yvonne. Suddenly who should walk into Rick's Américain Café and back into his life but Ilsa Lund Bergman), now accompanied by her husband, the hero of the Czech underground, Victor Laszlo (Henreid). The couple is attempting to find an exit visa to escape to Portugal and on to the US—documents, it appears, that will not be found until Ugarte (Lorre) shows up at Rick's bearing two letters of transit, stolen, evidently, from German couriers.

      Before the evening is over, Ugarte is murdered by the Vichy police, and Rick is in possession of the letters. The dilemma at the center of this work concerns Rick's wounded pride and his inability to comprehend the situation of Ilsa, who was married to Victor even before she and Rick met, but had been told that he had died.



     Victor, having shown up alive just before Rick and Ilsa were to have left Paris, prevented (even if unintentionally) the illicit relationship to continue. Will Rick and Ilsa, whose love life is far more developed in the film than her marriage to the hero, be able to get back together, or are they doomed to separation?

      It is that question that propels the film forward to its satisfying end. We never quite do know what Rick is planning to do. Indeed, Rick himself may not know until the very last moment. It all depends upon what kind of man Rick is, the neutral and uncaring cad Captain Renault (Rains) perceives him to be, or the passionate and caring man of commitment? And, in that sense, there are two Ricks whom we encounter throughout the film, one a passive supporter of fascism, the other a soldier fighting for a good cause.             

     While we may root for his selfish love, even enjoy him as we do Captain Renault for living without morals, we also hope that he can grow into the man of whom he gives us hints along the way, shown, most notably, when he rigs his gambling tables so that a young Bulgarian couple can obtain the funds to buy a ticket without the girl having to prostitute herself to Renault.

      Rick's relationships with Sam and his friendship with Carl, a member of an underground cell in Casablanca, also hint at his good side. But his brooding anger seems to dominate as he falls into drunkenness, and, when he sells his cafe to Signor Ferrari, and, at the last moment, tells his friend Renault that he is planning to send Victor off without his wife Ilsa, we fear that he may be telling the truth.



      As any seasoned filmgoer knows, however, such an action would be impossible, particularly during one of the worst years of World War II. As Laszlo prepares to board, he makes it clear that she must accompany her husband, an oft quoted dialogue that is worth considering again:

 

Rick: Last night we said a great many things. You said I was to do the thinking for both of us. Well, I've done a lot of it since then, and it all adds up to one thing: you're getting on that plane with Victor where you belong.

Ilsa: But, Richard, no, I... I...

Rick: Now, you've got to listen to me! You have any idea what you'd have to look forward to if you stayed here? Nine chances out of ten, we'd both wind up in a concentration camp. Isn't that true, Louie?

Captain Renault: I'm afraid Major Strasser would insist.

Ilsa: You're saying this only to make me go.

Rick: I'm saying it because it's true. Inside of us, we both know you belong with Victor. You're part of his work, the thing that keeps him going. If that plane leaves the ground and you're not with him, you'll regret it. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life.

Ilsa: But what about us?

Rick: We'll always have Paris. We didn't have, we, we lost it until you came to Casablanca. We got it back last night.

Ilsa: When I said I would never leave you.

Rick: And you never will. But I've got a job to do, too. Where I'm going, you can't follow. What I've got to do, you can't be any part of. Ilsa, I'm no good at being noble, but it doesn't take much to see that the problems of three little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. Someday you'll understand that.

[Ilsa lowers her head and begins to cry]

Rick: Now, now... [Rick gently places his hand under her chin and raises it so their eyes meet] Here's looking at you kid.

 

     The question remains, however, where is Rick planning to go—having sold everything he owns—where she cannot go? If he's simply going to "join the fight" somewhere, why has he made his intentions so obvious, particularly in front of the Vichy captain, Renault, who predictably does report his actions to Strasser? It seems from several of Rick's comments that he simply plans on being arrested once the plane leaves the ground.

      The writers distract us from this question, in part, by having Rick kill the German Major, freeing Louis to abandon his Vichy water and authority. In his refusal to arrest Rick, after a dramatic exchange of eye contact between the two, we recognize a hidden subtheme throughout the film, namely that Louis, although he is the worst of womanizers, is also in love with Rick.

      He hints at it quite openly to Ilsa when she first asks about the owner of the café she has just entered:

 

Ilsa: Who is Rick? Captain

Renault: Mademoiselle, you are in Rick's! And Rick is...

Ilsa: Who is he?

Captain Renault: Well, Rick is the kind of man that... well, if I were a woman, and I were not around, I should be in love with Rick. But what a fool I am talking to a beautiful woman about another man.

 

     Later, he tells Rick himself about Ilsa's questions:

 

Captain Renault: [to Rick regarding Ilsa] She was asking about you earlier in a way that made me very jealous...

 

      Apparently, Renault is jealous of Rick for receiving Ilsa's attentions, but it might also be that Louis is jealous of Ilsa for Rick's interest in her. Throughout the film, indeed, there is a deliciously funny—both humorous and strange—dialogue between the two men that, while not necessarily suggesting that they are gay, does oddly wed them. Louis' suggestion that Rick leave Casablanca, quickly shifts from his friend's journey to a statement of "our expenses." And with that linguistic transformation, by both giving up their pretenses of not caring and taking up with each other to travel to the free French forces in Brazzaville, they have, as Rick subtly describes it, begun something even more than what they previously had between them: "Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

      Beautiful is not usually the kind of word you might apply to a friend, unless he is suggesting something other than the word he has chosen. And whatever he might be saying or not about his sexuality, Rick has suggested that the two are clearly about to enter a world that is shared only by males. The fog rolls in just as both sets of couples begin their new, and "free" adventures.

 

Los Angeles, March 5, 2011

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (March 2011).

Monday, January 8, 2024

Roger Tongue | Two of Us / 1987, 1988 (re-release with new ending), 2004 USA

two out of twenty

by Douglas Messerli

 

Leslie Stewart (screenwriter), Roger Tonge (director) Two of Us / 1987, 1988 (re-release with new ending), 2004 USA

 

That Roger Tonge’s Two of Us was ever produced seems almost inconceivable to a US viewer. Imagine if the United States had a governmental channel such as the British Broadcasting Corporation—for example something like a television production wing of the National Endowment for the Arts—whose executive producer, disturbed by President Ronald Reagan’s response to the AIDS crisis, decided to produce a film about a teenage gay couple who, having contracted AIDS, were about to die because of the President’s refusal to release funds for AIDS research. Or, if that seems too much of a frontal attack to Reagan himself, what if someone in such a governmentally connected program decided to write a script aimed especially at high school students wherein two 16 year old Indiana high school swimmers, finding themselves attracted to one another and being bullied and mocked by their peers, decided to run off together to California where they live near the beach, sometimes sharing their tent with a runaway girl, thoroughly enjoying one each other’s company, with the boys managing to elude the police and living happily together until they came of age. And just for fun, the director decides to change the time period to the 1950s, when consensual sex between homosexuals was still against the law. What are the chances of such a movie being made in 1987 or 1988?*


    I can assure you that such a film would not only been rejected out of hand, but that no US citizen would possibly have been so fool-hardy to create or propose such a work to such an institution. Indeed, as we know, no such institution even existed in the US.

    Yet in Great Britain, playwright and screenwriter Leslie Stewart not only wrote a work aimed at young adults, but she found a willing director in Roger Tonge, who since the late 1960s had directed and produced the BBC series Scene, a mix of documentaries, dramas, and family-oriented works directed toward high school and college students.

    In their film the high school junior Phil (Lee Whitlock) is going steady with his girlfriend Sharon (Jenny Jay) who like many a high school sweetheart demands his total attention. Phil is a popular student on the school swimming team. But somehow he has remained friends with Matthew (Jason Rush), previously a school swimmer who dropped out of school for his senior year because of the continual bullying he received from fellow classmates for his apparently open expression of being gay.

     Even Sharon’s friend Vera (Kathy Burke), despite her belief that Matthew might be the man of her dreams, perceives that Matthew and Phil’s friendship is a strong one that often pulls him away from Sharon just at the moment she wants him to join her in extracurricular activities or to just show off her “conquest” to her friends. Certainly, anyone who perceives Phil’s gentle sensitivity realizes almost immediately that the gum-chewing, constantly chip-consuming Sharon is not the right girl for him.


    Early in the film we observe Phil’s and Matthew’s camaraderie and the movement of the eyes as they shower together after a swim. Phil is almost ready to dump his girlfriend any time Matthew calls, yet he has no understanding of why he is drawn to his male friend and no comprehension of how to define that admiration and deep devotion.

     One day in school, however, when a teacher attempts to bring up the issue of homosexuality in the classroom, things quickly get out of hand as Phil’s homophobic classmates begin to throw epithets out one by one to show their disgust of faggot perverts as the teacher attempts to regain the conversation by also noting that, first, homosexuality is against the law, and secondly, statistics suggest that 1 out of every 10 individuals will eventually seek out a same-sex relationship. Before he can get his students to think carefully, given their homophobic preconceptions, one particularly nervous kid jumps up demanding which two out of his 20 fellow classmates are gay. The teacher, eventually quieting him, begins to read a letter from a gay person expressing the difficulties he has had in being coming to terms with his sexuality. But before anyone but a few sympathetic girls can react, the classroom bell rings determining the end of possible insights about non-normative sex.       

     Clearly something has hit home for Phil, who stays after for a moment to talk with the teacher. The instructor, however, is busy, having to babysit his daughter so he doesn’t have the time for a chat. But it is clear that the question behind the boy’s tentative attempt to communicate is related to the same kinds of question that the hero of the American CBS School Break special of the same year asks in What If I’m Gay? He too seeks out the advice of a school advisor without much success. 

      Fearful about what his attraction to Matthew portends and attentive to the growing suspicions of Sharon, Phil attempts to steer clear for a while of his boyfriend. But watching him make a 

perfect high dive into the pool pulls him back into his friend’s orbit. After a first kissing session in the shower and a commitment of “womb to tomb” friendship, he brings Matthew back to see Sharon, introducing them to each other: “Matthew meet by girlfriend; Sharon meet by boyfriend,” making it clear that he now perceives them as having equal status in his newfound bisexual reality.

     Of course, neither likes the sudden equality, and Sharon, in particular, now sends word around the campus that Phil is queer since he apparently cannot give up the known homosexual Matt.

     Meanwhile, even on his way home Matthew is tortured by a torrent of projectiles being thrown from the upper stories of the high rise in which he lives. And when he finally reaches the safety of his apartment his infuriated father is there to greet him, having just discovered his son’s gay porno magazines hidden under his bed.

 


    Now both outsiders for no apparent reason, they have little choice to but imagine a better world, which for them is anywhere but the place in which they currently are trying to come to terms with themselves. Together, they pack up their belongings, a folding tent, and enough money to temporarily survive on, and head off into what they can only imagine is a wonderful new world of adventure as they thumb their way to Seaford on the Sussex coast, where many new couples spend their honeymoons, as Phil describes their destination to an unsuspecting driver. Presuming that one of them is meeting up with the bride at their destination, he goes on to a long rant of how he abuses young girls. But when Phil quite innocently and joyfully corrects him—“no, it’s our honeymoon”—he immediately pulls the car to a halt, almost heaving in horror, as he shouts: “It’s against the law.” Matthew shouts back, “So’s rape.”


      Their honeymoon paradise, predictably, is out of season, but it doesn’t bother the two in the least, who just happy to finally be able to have each other to themselves without the torrent of abuse with which they’ve just been faced, couldn’t be happier.

      In a warren of closed-down beach cabins, they find one open only to discover another person already has taken up encampment, Suzie (Zoë Nathenson), a free-wheeling runaway who, if nothing else, is completely open to sharing the space with them with no strings attached. She also has the advantage of knowing her way around the place, keeping clear of those who might cause trouble and attending to the food stands where she can nab free eats.

      She even shares their tent, insistently sleeping in between them for warmth. But they have now become desirous of just being together and finally, although they admit their fondness for her, send her away. Soon after she his captured by the police and bundled off, presumably from whence she came.     

     The boys themselves have been caught cuddling together in the tent by policeman, who instead of arresting them, thankfully, just forces them to decamp. Besides, to keep the authorities off their own necks, the writer and director have whipped up an unbelievable sidebar of the plot wherein the boys kiss and cuddle but aren’t ready to touch their penises. They’re romantics, they claim, not yet ready for sex.

     So all is not perfect in their conjugal paradise. Phil is still having some difficulties in leaving his previous identities in the past and, unknown to Matthew, finally telephones Sharon, who without hesitation is speeding their way, so he finally admits, to recapture her “fella.” When asked by Matthew, what he plans to do by bringing her to them, Phil admits he hasn’t the vaguest idea.

      Despite her refusal, he insists that she confront Matthew, witnessing the remnants of their relationship as well. She does so, but as quickly as she can, pulls Phil off and with tickets in hand intends to drag him back home.

      As Matthew slowly takes down the tent, folds it up, and begins to pack it away, obviously determined to continue on his own into the new frontiers which Phil is not yet ready to embrace, we see the train speeding across the landscape. It is a sad ending, but almost inevitable given the circumstances of the British societal attitudes of the day.

      Fortunately, that ending was the second one forced upon the studio in its re-release the following year in 1988. In the original 1987 version, Phil shows up, joining his now truly life-time friend for a swim in the ocean. It appears they might be able to hold out at least until they grow of legal age or, despite Phil’s sea-sickness, make their way across the English Channel where they will be safe.

     In the same year, in June 1987, Thatcher addressed the Conservative congress in Blackpool, emboldened by the rise in homophobia created in part by the AIDS/HIV crisis and commentary in the right wing press, arguing her belief that "Children who need to be taught to respect traditional moral values are being taught that they have an inalienable right to be gay. All of those children are being cheated of a sound start in life. Yes, cheated."

     To waylay further attacks, BBC, which had originally planned to air this film during the daytime hours, changed it to nights. And the next year, the Thatcher government issued Section 28 which called for banning the “promotion” of homosexuality by local authorities and in Britain’s schools which meant, when put into practice, that teachers were prohibited from discussing even the possibility of same-sex relationships with students. Libraries were forbidden to hold material that contained gay or lesbian themes.

      Without knowing the precise schedule of the plans for enacting that horrifying provision, one can only conjecture whether the BBC movie was an early response for what the media knew was soon coming or another example of what Thatcher saw as how children were being cheated of their traditional moral values. 

      The LGBT community immediately decried the implementation of such recidivist provisions, many regularly protesting parliamentary sessions. On May 23, 1988, activists stormed the BBC offices, handcuffing themselves to a TV camera and disrupting a broadcast of the Six O’Clock News. In Manchester more than 20,000 people marched against the provision, actor Ian McKellen among them, publicly coming out as a gay man.

       The clause was not revoked until June 2001 when Scotland voted it out. In 2003 it was repealed in the rest of the United Kingdom. By that time, surely, the middle-aged Phil and Matthew had already sent up a London flat or flown off to Paris to start new lives.

      

     *You might recall that, in 1989, during the Reagan administration museums that had received NEA funding to exhibit art works by Andres Serrano (who had created a photograph titled “Piss Christ) and Robert Mapplethorpe (a homosexual who had recently died of AIDS and created photographs of nude gay males) did, in fact, create a huge row in Congress, resulting in several members threatening to gut the National Endowment for the Arts Funding and, despite an eventual temporary compromise, resulting in the Endowment’s refusal to fund controversial performance artists Karen Finley, Holly Hughes, John Fleck, and Tim Miller (who came to be known as the NEA Four), all of them having ties to the LGBTQ communities, whose works were described as obscene. Today all of these artists, the two artist photographers and the performance-based artists are widely recognized for their numerous contributions, none of which is now perceived of as being obscene by the artistic community or most museum and theater-goers. My husband Howard, in fact, was on the NEA panel that originally chose to fund Serrano and was formerly the president of the board of the Washington Project for the Arts which took on the Mapplethorpe show when the Corcoran Gallery of Art cancelled it because of the controversy. That year I refused to apply for a NEA grant from my Sun & Moon Press—despite the fact that my press had received NEA grants for the previous 9 years—writing letters to the Head of the Literature Program of the NEA and to several senators and congresspeople explaining my decision to protest their decisions. Even today I cannot quite forgive Dianne Feinstein, the only one who answered my letter, for her statement that she supported the NEA decisions concerning the four rejected artists.  I later became acquainted with John Fleck and Tim Miller and published a play by Holly Hughes.

 

Los Angeles, February 26, 2021

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog and World Cinema Review (February 2021).

 

 

A. P. Gonzalez | Clay Farmers / 1988

the standoff

by Douglas Messerli

 

Michael Moore (screenplay), A. P. Gonzalez (director) Clay Farmers / 1988

 

A full 17 years before Brokeback Mountain director A. P. Gonzalez and writer Michael Moore created Clay Farmers, a western-based film far more convincing than the sheepherders’ romance of 2005, Brokeback Mountain.

 


   We never quite know for sure whether or not the drifter, Mike (Nicholas Rempel) working as a temporary hired hand for Dan the local farmer (Todd Fraser) have sexually consummated their obvious homoerotic attractions for one another. Indeed, the few paragraphs written about Clay Farmers all seem to suggest the two are just friends whose attraction for one another is still in the early stages. Yet these handsome boys joyfully touch, hug, and rough-play with one another in a manner that is far more explicitly sexual, and immensely more sensuous, than the two fun-loving cowboys romping in nature after their one-night romance represented in Ang Lee’s Brokeback. Just because we haven’t (and won’t be) invited into their “tent” does not mean that Mike and Dan aren’t on their way to becoming the homosexual couple that their neighbors, particularly the mean homophobic next door drunk Jim Antonelli (Asbury Ward), imagine them to be. I’d argue that if we don’t perceive them as a couple Gonzalez doesn’t even have a story to tell. For, it is ultimately Mike’s inability to commit to a longer relationship, once faced with the hostility of the isolated community in which he has found himself, that is central to his film.

      Gonzalez, in fact, goes out of his way to show through his beautifully-shot images of their partial nudity as they work side-by-side planting and weeding the rows of crops—as well as in their gentle shaping of the clay-hewn art works that Dan creates in his spare time—that those two are natural pair. That clay work, representing images of dwarves, half animal and beast figures, and a large feminine figure with the head of a man clearly spells out the characters’ perception of themselves as bisexual beings at home in their bodies and an imaginative space that does not tie them down to normative definitions of existence.

      In many ways, however, this is not really the story of a budding romance between two hot farmers but a tale of the terrible abuse by Antonelli of his two boys and wife which the local community abet in their silence. Although Dan does not own the farm which he has contracted to manage, he too is a local, and he warns the newcomer Mike, who has clearly already gotten on the wrong side of Antonelli even before the film has begun, to stay away from their neighbor and to keep quiet about his behavioral abnormalities.

       That is difficult since the youngest of the neighbor’s boys, Gary (Liam McGrath), despite his father’s admonitions, almost daily crosses over from the Antonelli farm boundary to hang out with the two younger farm workers, in part because they teasingly treat him like a pestering younger brother, and, as we later discern, because they offer a sense of belonging and protection that his own home life doesn’t offer. Mike even notices marks on the boy’s body clearly from abuse, and tells Gary that if his father even touches him again to come to them, a statement representing the very kind of offer which Dan has warned him previously can only lead to problems.

        Indeed, the way writer Moore and director Gonzalez have structured this narrative, we know almost from the first frame of the work that there ultimately will be a showdown between the farm workers and their irritable neighbor. A trip to the local bar makes it clear that there are tensions between the town folk. Barkeeper Trapper (Diane Conway) keeps a rifle beyond the bar to take care of any fights that might break out.

      Evidently, however, Dan and Mike have made at least temporary friends with the others who inhabit the bar by buying rounds of free drinks and offering up their friendly and upbeat personalities. But the first scene in this bar still remains tense when Antonelli enters to begin drinking in earnest alone at the bar, leering at the two friends throughout his obvious determination to become inebriated. Dan moves to the jukebox to put on what is evidently his favorite song, Will William’s “What Love Can Do,” a gender free song that seems just as appropriate for gay men as the heterosexual country western audience for which it was probably written*:

 

You love me, I love you

What more is love to do?

Kiss me and hold me close

Let’s see what we can do.

 

So give your heart to me

I promise you I’ll be true

I’ll give my heart to you

Let’s see what love can do.

 

       Gonzalez’s camera focuses, for the first time, on the Antonelli farm as Jim attempts to return home. His wife and the children’s stepmother, Terri (Dolores Dwyer), obviously herself a common victim of her husband’s abuse, has already locked the door, with Jim calling out for Randy (Aaron Denney), his eldest son, to open up. They too refuse, cautiously peering out a backroom window to observe his whereabouts.

       The confrontation continues with Jim ultimately attempting to break his way into their small, prefabricated house. It appears that Randy undoes the lock, as both boys run to the barn to seek protection, Randy grabbing up a rifle. As Antonelli moves in to beat his wife, she hits him over the head with a bottle, knocking him out, while Gary runs to the farm workers’ place next door, calling out their names but unable to find them.

       When Gary returns home, he finds his brother lying on the barn floor, dead. Either the boy, in loading the gun, has accidently killed himself or his father has killed—accidentally or out of fury—his son. The Antonelli parents choose to describe the event in a third way, that Gary accidentally killed his brother, despite Gary’s insistence he is innocent and that he found his brother already dead.

 


     Perhaps the only major flaw in this movie’s logic is that the very next morning Gary escapes his family farm—despite his father’s quite emphatic warning that he must never again communicate with their neighbors—to hang out with his young working friends. At first, he says nothing about the recent incidents on his farm, but he gradually does reveal that


his brother has died. To relieve the tensions they all feel about that news, Mike suggests that they take a break from chores and try out the local swimming hole, no swimsuits needed. As the gay boys joyfully slip out of their dirty clothing, Gary shyly and perhaps recalling his father’s warnings, hangs behind remaining in his underpants until the simple pleasure of the sun beating upon their naked bodies forces him to also strip, the three now swimming together in the only idyll this tough little movie allows. As they lay out in the sun to dry, Gary tearfully comes over to Mike to share the full story of how he is being accused of accidently killing his brother, again insisting upon his innocence. As Mike gently caresses the boy in consolation, Jim Antonelli, sneaking up upon their brief escape to nature, angrily demands the boy get dressed and return home with him.


     Once more, the audience seems to be more savvy about what is in store with regard to what superficially appears as a pedophilic encounter than are the characters. But then one commentator seems to argue that they are not even fully cognizant of their own sexual predilections.

     Further, while Mike momentarily contemplates a confrontation with Antonelli, Dan again admonishes him, insisting that what happens in their neighbor’s lives is not something in which they should interfere.

     This time Mike attempts to explain just what Gary is experiencing. In a long and quite emotionally stirring scene which reveals that as a child he too had been the subject of abuse, he expounds that it is not simply a temporary moment of suffering for the boy but something which he will have to suffer for the rest of his life. Sitting near the ocean, Mike angrily faces off with his friend:

 

“You don’t really know what’s going on with Gary, do you? All you see is marks on his skin. His brother didn’t kill himself because of that. You don’t even think about the marks he’s got in the inside, do you?” When Dan argues “Of course I do,” Mike continues, “Naw, all you see is some dumb kid who wants to hang around and get in your god damn way. That’s not why he’s around. I mean do you know what it’s like to be hit every day and to have to make up stories about where those scars came from. You don’t get over it. You carry it with your goddamn life. ...He don’t even know what he’s being hit for.”

 

     Returning to the bar the two now encounter a world that now stands against them, even Gary having been forced to admit to the community’s assertion that they forced him to join them. Mike is bloodied by Antonelli and others before the bartender ends the fight with a shotgun blast, the two young workers escaping back to their farm.

     Earlier in the film, Mike has shared with Dan his desire to get away from the farm and to move on to Los Angeles. A spat between the two ensues, with Dan suggesting that we might want to move on with Mike as soon as his contract with the farm owner expires within a couple of months, Mike allowing that he would stay for while if that would happen. In short, they seemed to have made a kind of commitment a more permanent relationship than what Mike has seemingly been running away from for much of his life.

      Now, however, despite Dan’s appeals, his friend is newly determined to get his final paycheck and speed back into the world in which he more acquainted. Dan pays him and gives him a homemade coffee cup he has fired in clay in one the film’s first scenes. The gift is clearly meaningful to Mike, but nonetheless he drives on, stopping only a short while just outside the graveyard where the Antonelli family is burying Gary’s brother. Before they might spot him, he pulls away, returning to the highway, pulling to the south.

 


      Dan, now alone, sits in the hollow of a tree branch playing his favorite song on his harmonica and is suddenly poked from behind by Gary, who joins him on another branch in the tree.

       In the world in which he lives, Gary can only hope to be consoled by those who stay behind in an expression of permanence that demands a repression of sudden judgment and change, while Mike can only wish that through a swift reversal of that behavior his lover will impulsively act to join him. It is a standoff as intense as any in the old west.

 

*The musical score by Robert Stine is excellent throughout.

 

Los Angeles, November 12, 2020

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog and World Cinema Review (November 2020).

Index R-Z

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