Friday, September 13, 2024

Douglas Messerli | Crossing the Divide [Introduction]

crossing the divide

by Douglas Messerli

 

Over the past several years I have been on the lookout for films which might reveal whether or not the process of young gay and lesbian people “coming out” was truly easier that it had been for my now agèd generation. Obviously, the young people in films made after 1990, for example, have a large advantage in simply knowing that there are other LGBTQ people out there, even if they have never met them. And, in general, cultures have grown more open to gay, lesbian, bisexual, and—far more slowly—transgender individuals and their expressions of love.


      Yet, over all, it appears that most contemporary filmmakers perceive the process of a young man of age 16 or 17 coming to terms with a minority sexual bent to be as difficult an undertaking as it has been decades earlier, and sometimes as in Olivier Lallart’s 2019 French film  PD (Fag) or US director Scott Sullivan’s 2020 short Red, things had grown even more difficult for young LGBTQ people simply because they were more easily identified by their peers and open about their sexual differences. Even young people who had not yet come to terms with their sexuality were more likely to be defined as “different” by their fellow dominant normative peers. Conversely, if I may have been perceived as queer while growing up I was never described as a “fag” and completely cut off from my fellow classmates; my differences may have caused me to shy away from them since I did not find many of their social activities compatible with my interests, but I was never completely shunned. And I enjoyably shared their company when it came to activities such as playing in the band, singing in the chorus, debating, and performing in dramas.

       In my generation, moreover, there was a kind of shell of innocence that if one did not quite yet identify as being gay, it freed one from commitment to or relationship with an unwilling or self-hating closeted individual such as we see in Red and numerous other post-80s “coming out” films. By the time I actually “came out” in college, long after others seeking a gay high school sexual partner, I found dozens already in waiting, so my experience may not be typical. And I also recognize given the hormonal changes of adolescence, particularly in today’s highly sexualized environment, it is far more difficult to keep one’s sexual urges on hold.

       That does not mean, moreover, that I didn’t fantasize about others in my formative years; perhaps I was the gay boy so closeted that others were frustratedly thwarted by my behavior. I can imagine one such instance. And I know for certain that I was the cause of frustration to a couple of heterosexual girls, something that isn’t fully represented in film but might be a fascinating topic of ancillary importance to LGBTQ filmmakers: “how does the rejection of a gay boy or lesbian truly effect their straight counterparts who have fallen in love without knowing about their “other’s” sexual urges.” What does loving a gay man and woman mean for a heterosexual girl or boy when she or he discovers the truth? Surely hurt and anger cannot be the only emotional scars. Does such a relationship ever result in an investigation of a straight person’s own sexuality? It can’t be that only gay men and women feel the necessity of pondering those issues.

       Nonetheless, I have noticed some evidence that the whole process of “coming out” in queer cinema is becoming in some instances a non-issue; and perhaps the “B” pattern of “coming out” films—boy falls in love with boy as they struggle to come to terms with the fact within themselves and in relationship to their peers and family—will soon transmogrify into something quite different. Increasingly, for example, I have noticed a great number of short and even feature films dealing with individuals who find the process less a personal problem or even a concern with those of their own generation, than it is a frightening standoff between them and their parents and older relatives, perhaps another variation of the genre—a phenomenon I shall soon have to explore since the resultant pain this causes is still quite significant. And their companions, unlike those of the previous generations, are far less tolerant about those who determine in connection with their families to remain in the closet.

       At the same time, however, I have also noticed there have been a number of recent gay short films released in which, if there are any problems at all, it has less to do with sexual difference than it has with other desires and impediments unrelated of the LGBTQ identity. Perhaps the generational problem I note above might almost be seen to also be an extracurricular concern, despite its significant effect upon the individual’s sexual transition. But in several of these new films there seems to be utterly no major impediment regarding sexual identification and desire.

      I have already written about a few of these films, some examples being US director Brian Tognatti’s Just Ask Him (2020); Icelandic director Runar Þór Sigurbjörnsson’s Hann (Him) (2018); Dutch director Jiels Bourgonje’s Turn It Around (2017); US director Ly Tran’s Rose Canyon (2017); and earlier, the comic “coming out” farce by French filmmaker Françoise Decaux-Thomelet, Enceinte ou lesbienne? (Pregnant or Lesbian?) (1996). One might describe these films as simply a matter of coming to recognize the new openness, sometimes resolved with a simple change of a pronoun in describing one’s desires.

     Arguably, there is even a sub-genre already developing around these films that proposes that “coming out” is nothing of great significance with a little help of the older generation. In at least five works I’ve observed young men of ages from 14 to17 who have been perfectly ready and willing to jump into the sack with someone of the same sex, but can evidently find only mature men who are ready to kiss and make proper love to them as opposed to simply shyly exploring their bodily territories; these youngsters are clearly beyond the touching-feeling-masturbatory exercises played out in school toilets, bedroom sleepovers with friends, or gropes in their classmates’ autos. US director Lawrence Ferber’s Birthday Time (2000), Norwegian directors Jan Dalchow and Lars Daniel Krutzkoff Jacobsen’s Fremragende Timer (Precious Moments) (2003), Australian director Jonathan Wald’s What Grown-Ups Know (2004), Danish director Christian Tafdrup’s En forelskelse (Awakening) (2008), Danish director Lasse Nielsen’s Happy Birthday (2013) and Dutch director Vincent Fitz-Jim’s TommyTeen18 (2017), all concern young boys absolutely ready to make the leap into total gay sexual pleasure the moment they turn of legal age or are accepted by older men as lovers.

     If these films present new difficulties and barriers to be dealt with, at least they have little to do with the confusion of sexual identity and the individual’s inability to accept his burgeoning desires. If in our time of cultural hysteria concerning all things to do with pedophilia clinical psychologists have been chary of and even punished for exploring the idea that on many occasions it is the younger underage individual who encourages the elder to enter into sex. Yet LGBTQ filmmakers have repeatedly suggested that this was precisely what happens, their characters having few second thoughts about engaging in sex with older men.**

     Sometimes far more difficult for a young person suddenly discovering that he or she is sexually and emotionally drawn to members of the same gender, particularly in small towns but even sometimes in larger schools, is that there is no one immediately to turn to for either support or, even more importantly, for sexual exploration. Some cannot even find another gay person of their same age. In a class of about 140 students, I was long convinced that there was not another gay person among my peers.* Is it any wonder then that often individuals look to older people who they might identify as possibly being homosexual to help them not only to comprehend what their feelings mean or if they might arouse such feelings in others, but to understand how to fully engage in same-sex situations. It may seem a strange question, but it’s an inevitable one when there are no models: what do you do in to show your love in gay sex? As a commentator in Nic Sheehan’s 1985 documentary No Sad Songs noted, as a gay man you come to learn what many straight men never do, that you have an anus. Exploring gay sex with an older boy, the young hero of David Moreton’s Edge of Seventeen (1998) is pleasantly shocked to find himself being “rimmed” during one of his first gay sex encounters. Young boys often need help in coming out even if they have learned to accept their sexuality. The joys and pleasures of homosexuality has not yet made it into many classrooms.

 

*I have since discovered that at least one of my female classmates has long been in a lesbian relationship and one of my male friends in my class at least experimented with a gay relationship.

**I should mention that I discuss a very similar subject in my essay and gathering of films in 2008 titled “The Gap between Desire and Apprehension: The Problem of Man and Boy Love.” However, this earlier essay focuses on the age gap of just a year or two from when sexual activities will be legal, whereas that later essay concerns the much large issue of legal and illegal man/boy love.

 

Los Angeles, May 30, 2022

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (May 2022).

Olivier Ducastel and Jacques Martineau | Drôle de Félix (The Adventures of Felix) / 2000

off to visit dad

by Douglas Messerli

 

Olivier Ducastel and Jacques Martineau (screenwriters and directors) Drôle de Félix (The Adventures of Felix) / 2000

 

The joyful and carefree Félix (the wonderful Sami Bouajila) is laid off from his job as barman on the ferries from Dieppe to Newhaven, England, a company downsized because of the building of the Chunnel (the Euro Tunnel) which permitted train and car access from Calais to England. Living happily with his lover Daniel (Pierre-Loup Rajot), Félix takes his severance with aplomb, and determines just to relax for a few days, watching his favorite soap-opera to which he’s become addicted due to the fact that it is so popular with many of the ferry’s daily riders.


      Determined to sell his house in which his mother recently died, he packs up her possessions, only to discover a correspondence between her and the father he has never seen, having been born after his father left. Inexplicably Félix determines, while his lover is away on a business trip, to hitchhike to Marseilles where his unknown father apparently still lives. Handing Daniel a ticket for Marseilles, he promises to meet him there.

    As a gay Arab who is HIV-positive, one would imagine that this character might be somewhat chary of undertaking such an adventure, but not the almost always upbeat Félix, who packs up a backpack with some clothes and his HIV medications and purchases a new gay rainbow kite, heading off on a new adventure “on the road.”

     Almost immediately he witnesses a racist attack, two men attempting to toss a body into a river. One of the assailants, noting his observation of their activities, take after him as he goes on the run, taking brief refuge in a bar who bartender seems to know the assailant, and assures Félix that he is a good man, whole nonetheless momentarily offering him some protection. Soon after, however, the attacker catches him and begins to beat him, before Félix once again escapes. He decides to report it to the police, but observing them manhandle another Arab man, he finds himself unable to go through with reporting the incident—an act which will haunt him throughout the rest of his journey.


      Soon after he meets a young gay man, Jules (Daniel Sergue) attempting to draw Aristotle, a figure that appears on a nearby cathedral. The teen is working in the dark and not a very skilled artist. The ever-friendly Félix offers to draw it for him, himself producing a rather crude rendering as a token of friendship. The boy, however, completely charmed by the older man sneaks him into his room, where Félix, exhausted from his adventures and, we soon perceive, as a consequence of his medicines, quickly falls to sleep, much to the frustration of Jules, who obviously is seeking sex.

      But the next morning, as the two go out for breakfast, the boy spots a woman who has left her cars in her auto and, presuming that the secretive Félix must be on the run for some criminal action, suggests they steal the car. Caught up in the boy’s imagination, Félix, with his new partner in crime, does just that—until they realize that the woman has left her baby in the back seat. They sneak back to the scene of the crime, where by this time the woman has discovered that both her car and child are missing, Jules handing over the baby to a young girl with the instructions to deliver it up to the woman. Behind the wheel, the two quickly go speeding off.

 

     In another town, Félix takes Jules to a gay bar where, for the first time in his confined life, the boy gets to dance and flirt with other gay men. But Félix purposely tells a bar owner that the cute boy is underage, and the police are quickly called, the two escaping. Félix tells Jules to wait on a nearby doorstop while he gets the car, but it’s clear his intentions area to cut and run. The boy has begun to show his impatient with Félix for not having sex with him, while the nonchalant older Arab who is HIV positive has no intentions of serving as the boy’s first love.

      No matter; as Jules waits, another man with whom he briefly flirted at the bar has discovered him alone on the stoop. Surely he won’t be so shy with the eager kid, who Félix has come to see as a “younger brother.”

      Leaving the car in an open field, so that the police can easily find it and return it to its rightful owner, the adventurer continues his trek on foot.

      Now the pattern of this utterly charming film has not been determined. In his search for his long missing father, Félix will discover a series of individuals who will become like family to him, a family of fellow French folk who will provide him with a far deeper sense of joy and love than his own parents have been able to provide.

 

    He next meets up with one of the most charming of his "family" members, a hearty elderly widow, Mathilde Firmin (Patachou) who engages the seemingly idle young man, sleeping on a park bench, to help carry her groceries back to her house (they, in fact, consist of only a few items and are very light to carry), and once she has got him into the house feeding him and insisting that he help her out moving furniture the she has long thought ugly but which her own son never found the time to remove. In the process she explains her life, how she married almost out of revenge for having lost the man she truly loved, and how she never loved her husband and was actually relieved with his death. She and Félix indeed become fast friends, she insisting that he’s not really interested at all about finding his father but is seeking something us in the journey, which by this time the film’s viewer might also realize.

      As alarmingly honest and down-to-earth as Félix is filled with delight, the two make a lovely vision of grandson and “grandmother,” she helping him work around the problems of his own parents by explaining her disappointment with her own daughter and son.

      On the road again, Félix encounters a robust railroad man (Philippe Garziano), a kind of older kissing “cousin” with whom he finally has sex.



     And soon after, on yet another adventurous side-trip he meets a woman, Isabelle (Ariane Ascaride), who is perfectly ready to let him ride with her, as long as he is not in a hurry, since she has to deliver up her three children in the backseat to their various fathers. The children quickly adopt the loveable Félix as their new father, explaining to him how they themselves all prefer one of the other boy’s father better than their own, and would prefer spending time on his farm.

 

     Determined not go through a town that voted rightist, Félix maps out a crazy route which ultimately takes them everywhere but where they want to go. But finally, having delivered up the kids, Isabelle knows of an expensive hotel nearby. However, the police have closed down the hotel, having captured the murderer who has chased after Félix days before. The two seek out another bed, which they share, this time as brother and “sister,” Isabelle guessing his secret, that he was the famed witness (now mentioned in national news) to the Arab’s death. Finally, Félix is forced to justify his actions, with Isabelle insisting that he still visit the police, even though they’ve finally captured the wanted man.


      In the last meet-up with such wonderfully eccentric individuals, Félix encounters a late middle-aged man fishing, not really attempting to catch fish, he explains, as to find an activity that might get him out of his unhappy home for a while so that he can think things out. Our hero, well-skilled with kites since Dieppe is the home of the national kite convention each year, shows his new “father” to entertain himself in a far more delightful manner, and before long he has the man engaged in kite-flying, certainly more exciting that throwing a line into a polluted waterway where, even if he caught fish it wouldn’t safe to eat.

 

     Arriving in Marseilles just in time to meet up with Daniel, who has just arrived by train, Félix hugs and kisses his lover, amazed that for the first time since he had known him, Daniel has shaved his small chin which always carried a beard. He is like a new man, Félix insists; but Daniel also notes that something has changed with Félix who, following the fisherman’s advice, tells Daniel that he has decided to let his father remain anonymous. The two decide, instead, to take a ferry to Corisca.

     Olivier Ducastel and Jacques Martineau’s lovely fable is so filled with life and joy that it is almost a bit overwhelming, maybe a bit too bright, after having seen so many hundreds of films, long and short, with dark and fearful portraits of surviving gay life. Here, no one except the evil duo early on in this film, even question the heroes’ race, religion, or sexuality, accepting him for who he is, even with his numerous canisters filled with pills (indeed Mathilde wants just such a container for her own pills). Nothing comes between this happy couple’s love but the five day-hiatus wherein Félix discovers the family that has so long been missing in his life. Yet the adventures of this picaresque are far more interesting and engaging than any gay boy’s tribulations about coming out, any gay lesbian’s fears that she may lose her lover, or any gay man’s terror over offending his family by revealing the secrets of his sexual desires. Just as he name suggests, at film’s end we recognize just how lucky we have been to join Félix on his adventures to visit his dad.


Los Angeles, September 13, 2024

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (September 2024).      

      

 

 

 

 

Unknown filmmaker | Can I Call You Back? / 2010 [commercial advertisement]

a fortuitous date?

by Douglas Messerli

 

Director unknown Can I Call You Back / 2010 [34 seconds] [commercial advertisement]

 

Two beautiful men are standing at the end of a swimming pool along with a good-looking woman.


On the far right of the picture (stage left) the man is talking: “I don’t want to seem to forward. I’m only here for a few days. Do you think we can have dinner soon?”

     The man in the center responds, “I’d love to.”

     The other man reacts, confused, “Love to…?”

     “Have dinner with you.”

     The other man again speaks: “Can I call you back?”


    We realize what his handsome friend has not, that he has been talking on the phone, hidden away in Razorwire, Oakley + Moto sunglasses, sold by Motorola.

      Do the two actually get together? It appears not, as the man speaking to his sunglasses appears to move off—perhaps to continue the conversation in a more removed spot. Indeed, we don’t even know if he is gay; perhaps he was discussing a business date.

     Too bad. I’d certainly love to have dinner with the agreeable man in the center of the screen.

     And if my interpretation is right, Moto has revealed one of the problems with their new “invisible” phone. Perhaps our phone communicator swims back to agree to the fortuitous date.

 

Los Angeles, September 13, 2024

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (September 2024).

Thursday, September 12, 2024

Eoghan McQuinn | Staccato / 2016

applause, applause

by Douglas Messerli

 

Eoghan McQuinn (screenwriter and director) Staccato / 2016 [23 minutes]

 

Thomas Cryoden (Craig Grainger) is rehearsing quite endlessly for a concert he is performing at the family manor Falgirth for the major critics of the day in Eoghan Quinn’s costume drama that takes place in late 19th century Ireland.


     Although seemingly all his attention is paid to his practice—except for the series of teas and luncheons with occur with great regularity. But, in fact, most of his focus is actually being directed to the new gardener Sean (Kevin O’Malley) his mother has hired. Indeed, the two are having a sexual affair, with all discretion, of course, which seems to mean that in public Thomas must mock the inept gardener who sends nearly all of wages to his poor, dying mother, while when they are in bed he sacrifices his upper crust disdain and body to simple lust.

      But such worlds, based on class structure, are inherently cruel and mean at heart. Thomas’ sister Elizabeth (Marian Rose) knows perfectly well that Lady Croydon did not hire Sean, but that her brother—at the very moment that his mother, in a fit of religious abstinence, is about to lay off many of the staff—had gone into town to hand pick the new gardener. And she suspects that the new hireling has already found way to her brother’s bed, particularly when at lunch Thomas skips dessert and retreats to his room.


     His mother (Pauline O’Driscoll) pretends to be listening to his music but hears only her son’s diffidence and disrespect for her values, ordering him to make good on his concert, and forcing him to endlessly practice.

     Sean, worried about his mother, sick with pneumonia, escapes for a day to go see how she’s doing, only to discover that the weekly wages he has been sending her to that she might survive have never arrived, Thomas having ordered the maid, Moire (Sophie Merry) to hold all letters with the outside world for fear that Sean might desire to return to it.


     Upon Sean’s return to the manor, he refuses to continue to be Thomas’ whore, and pushes him away as he attempts to kiss him. Finally, the maid steals even the invitation to Thomas’ recital he has sent to Sean. When Elizabeth, who has heard that the gardener’s deathly sick mother has not received any of her son’s wages, fires Moire on the spot, despite the fact that the servant was ordered to do so by Thomas.

       Meanwhile, Thomas is growing nervous and disconcerted, much afraid that we will disappoint his imperious mother once again. The august audience arrives and gathers in the music room. Even Sean makes his appearance. Thomas’ performance appears to go off without a hitch.

       Afterwords—cinematically presented while the concert music is still being performed—we observe Thomas and Sean once more, stripping away one another’s clothes in preparation for sex, but this time Sean takes dominant position, midway through the fuck presenting his lover with a small piece of printed paper, a “notice of death,” before proceeding to stab him with a garden fork.

       The camera returns to the music room for the end of the performance, silence prevailing after the last chord, the audience standing in mute applause.

 

Los Angeles, September 12, 2024

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (September 2024).

Dominick R. Domingo | Outpost / 2009

motion and rest

by Douglas Messerli

 

Dominick R. Domingo (screenwriter and director) Outpost / 2009 [45 minutes]

 

40-year-old Jake Preston (Kaiwi Lyman) has spent most of his life trying to escape the memories of an early relationship with a farm boy, Farren McGraw (Brandon Stevenson). Both of Jake’s parents died, and he eventually came to work on the McGraw farm as a 17-year-old, working alongside Farren, also 17.

 

   The religious values of this farm family allow hardly any possibilities for the virginal boy, who resists even masturbating and is expected to marry a local girl and settle down on the farm when he comes of age.

      In small sections of the film, we get glimpses of their relationship, as Jake helps the boy to begin dreaming, and finally, after they are trapped in an old mining pit by an avalanche, helps to bring him out sexually. The boys are rescued by a now disgruntled father and others who find it hard to forgive Farren for having walked away from work to show Jake the abandoned mine and a nearby “social tunnel,” where the miners used to meet up with prostitutes.


     For a while after the event, the boys continue their sexual relationship, hiding away in sheds and other remote locations, while knowing that all eyes are on them. In the end, Jake is ordered by the Sherrif to leave town for his corrupt influence on the boy. He tries to convince Farren to join him in Denver, but the boy cannot yet fully break with his religion and family, and Jake is forced to go it alone, while promising to come back for him.

     But realizing that any return might only further confuse Farren, Jake stays away instead of coming to save the boy as he promised. Eventually, Farren, accused his family and the locals of having been possessed by an evil disease, begins to curse his own wife and threatens to leave before finally committing suicide. Most commentaries describe it as a “mysterious death,” but we clearly see Farren has hung himself at the front entrance to his family farm, which, unless the publicists are suggesting someone else carried out the act, hardly hints of anything mysterious. He appears to have simply grown into despair for his lack of any wonderment in his life and his true loss of his companion lover.


      This tale, however, is buried in the large story of Jake arriving at another such dead-end town, where he goes to work for a cook for a small restaurant owner, Mabel Robbins (Nancy Berggren) whose husband has become both paralyzed and mute. While working there, Jake encounters the handsome delivery boy, David Gagnel (Lance Shigematsu), who for a small-town product seems quite experienced and is immediately attracted to the newcomer.


      One afternoon, the two have what can only be described as hot sex; but after that event, Jake attempts to move away from the younger boy, worried perhaps about the effects his attentions may have on the boy while still nursing his own sorrow which has been salved only by mindless wandering.

 

      David, however, attempts to convince him not only of his love but of the fact that Jake has not been able to forgive himself, and accordingly is no longer able to accept his need for love.

        When Mabel’s husband finally dies, she suffers and shares with Jake her own guilt for purposely allowing her inert husband to choke to death. And through her admission, Jake realizes, once again, how precious time is and permits David back into his life, finally ready to remain still and permit himself the love he has longed for.


        With its themes of a western drifter unable to settle down and a character’s inability to accept his own gay desire, this 45-minute film echoes works like Brokeback Mountain and, particularly, the more recent Pedro Almadóvar film Strange Way of Life (Extraña forma de vida) of 2023. Outpost, by US director and screenwriter Dominick R. Domingo, might almost appear as a response to the Brokeback’s cowboys, Jake refusing to make the same mistake the sheep herders did by settling down when love finally appears; but overall, it is closer in spirit to Almadóvar’s work of 14 year later.

       Of course, this isn’t a “cowboy” movie. Jake is simply an itinerant worker on the run, a kind of gay “on the road” figure who finds his match, strangely, is a smart hometown delivery boy, who while staying at home, has a worldly viewpoint that the poor indoctrinated Farren never had and perhaps could never have embraced.

       If the acting is a bit amateur in this movie, the script, under the right directorial guidance might have become a truly memorable work given its mix of outsider sexual love, remorse, and nostalgia, and its structural opposition between motion and inertia. The true question this film asks is whether or not, through the imagination, there can be a resolve between the two. Lance Shigematsu, perhaps the best actor in this work, seems to represent that possibility, a young man who know very well that his town is dead, but still uses every moment to liven it up. And it is people with his kind of energy that turn dead outposts in lively towns and even cities, or as Jake once argued for, who turn dreams into a fabulous reality. What ultimately we perceive that even the emptiest outpost can still contain men and women who live out imaginatively exciting lives.

 

Los Angeles, September 12, 2024

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (September 2024).

Index R-Z

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