Sunday, December 8, 2024

Joshua Kellerman | Be Gay Tomorrow / 2022

blaming hannah

by Douglas Messerli

 

Joshua Kellerman (screenwriter and director) Be Gay Tomorrow / 2022 [13 minutes]

 

I might almost have included this short dramatic comedy in my grouping of short films I discussed under the rubric of “Family Secrets,” for there is most certainly a couple of secrets that this family has long been attempting to keep from one another.

      As the parents Mary (Stephany Hitchcock) and Frank (Bret Bailey) arrive for Thanksgiving dinner at their recently divorced daughter Hannah’s (Allie McCulloch) new small apartment everything seems to be going wrong. While running out to the grocery store to get a few more items, she has put her eldest son, Allen (Josh Rosenzweig) in charge of listening for the timer so that he might turn the oven off; but as with so many high school boys, he has retreated to his room and his cellphone, while the turkey overcooks and begins to send smoke across the kitchen and into the living room, setting off the fire alarm.

      Hannah arrives just in time to air out the kitchen, turn off the fire alarm, and find her son squirreled away in his room before she sets into scaping off some of the burned parts before her mother calls to tell them they’ll be there in 40 minutes.


      Although she tries to get her younger daughter Nikki (Kealani Petito) to help out, she too is busy with a phone call.

      The final frustration comes when she attempts to get Allen to take down all his gay paraphernalia from his bedroom walls, which he refuses to do, announcing he intends to come out to his grandparents at Thanksgiving dinner.

      Although Hannah seems totally accepting of her son, she demands that he say nothing, and return to his gay life the day after Thanksgiving, hence writer/director Joshua Kellerman’s short film’s title. We, and evidently, her son cannot seem to comprehend why she is so absolutely insistent that he not bring up issue with her parents. After all, he argues these days it not such a big thing.

       But when we finally meet her outward loving parents we soon perceive just why she is nervous. Her father Frank is the kind of grandfather who thinks wrestling with his grandson, far too old now for his playful gestures, is the best thing he might do in order to reintroduce some normative male presence into his life, that and constantly asking him about his girlfriends, the grandmother assuring him that he is handsome enough to get any girl. At one point Allen is so upset with his grandfather’s behavior that he almost announces his gayness despite the constant attempts Hannah makes in interrupt him, calling for more potatoes, gravy, etc, and staring him down in anger and terror.

       Even worse is Hannah’s mother, again seeming to be a caring worried woman, but who we soon discover is constantly comparing Hannah with her successful sister (she has just purchased a Pomeranian) and attempting to prod Hannah to call up her ex-husband to see if he might join them, despite the fact that Hannah reminds her that there is a court-order that they cannot talk to one another. Obviously her husband has been abusive, but for the ever-intruding, passively scolding mother that seems of little matter, since she argues that she should have a man in her life to give her children a much-needed father figure.

      Hannah meets her constant intrusions into the new life she has been trying to build for herself and her children with some justified anger, but that does nothing to stop them, and she is finally forced to take out a few moments in the bathroom just to collect her wits.

      In her absence, however, Grandmother Mary begs Allen to tell her what is the matter, why he is not eating and what is bothering him, attempting to convince just to whisper the problem in her ear; at the moment he finally does, the lights go out. Hannah has not paid the electricity bill.

      With the lantern lit, the grandfather plays a game with the youngest boy, Danny (Townsend Fallica) while Hannah attempts to get on line to pay the bill and return the lights. But her credit card is declined, and her father is forced to hand over his card to her so that she can return the fiasco to some sense of normalcy.

      When the lights do return, her mother now shows her real aggressiveness and interfering tendencies, suggesting she cannot comprehend why Hannah is upset with them, when it is she who has fouled up, admitting that she now knows Allen is gay, surely caused, she argues—typically but mistakenly—by his not having a father figure around the house. It is Hannah, she insists, who is blame for everything. Indeed, blaming Hannah seems to be their favorite family game.

       Finally, Hannah has had enough and orders her own parents out of her house several times as they complain they are only there to help. Hannah finally makes it clear also that perhaps her own parents’ relationship is not very splendid, particularly given the number of beers Frank has consumed during the disastrous meal.


   They leave, Hannah’s daughter suggesting that the entire event was a “real fuck up,” while Allen comes to stand next to his mother in support, as if to reassure her that she has been a good mother and has done the best she could given the circumstances.

       Later, the entire family sits on the couch, eating popcorn, happy once more to be alone without the intruding judgments of others. They are all free once more to happily be who they are.

       Although, one wishes that Allen had been a little smarter about it all and explained to them outright that his being gay had little to do with having no father, but is probably inborn, and if triggered by anything perhaps might be linked to how his father treated his mother previously. But young teen gay boys do not yet necessarily have such wisdom. And Kellerman’s work, although a bit hysteric, is probably fairly near to the truth in some dysfunctional families. If there is any major criticism about this short MLA work he did at Columbia University, I’d argue it is a bit too close to being a Neil Simon comedy such as The Goodbye Girl. But then that’s one of favorite Simon plays and films.

 

Los Angeles, December 8, 2024

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (December 2024).

 

 

Daniel Guarda | Naquele Dia Escuro (That Dark Day) / 2022

caring in society that won’t

by Douglas Messerli

 

Daniel Guarda (screenwriter and director) Naquele Dia Escuro (That Dark Day) / 2022 [29 minutes]

 

At the beginning of Brazilian director’s Daniel Guarda highly moving short drama, That Dark Day, presents a day on which it seems the world might end. Jair Bolsonaro is in power in Brazil and Trump in the White House when on that day in 2019 when a city councilor Victor is taken away by car in São Paulo and presumably shot, at 3:00 the sky dark because of a meteorological phenomena and smoke from forest fires along the Amazon highway.


      The movie then shifts to the aftermath focusing on a young trans man, Fabio (Miguel Filpi) who works as a caregiver, now focusing on an elderly woman near death, Louise (Isabelle Lenoble). Gently he daily cares for her as he silently grieves the end of his own relationship with, we later discover was the gay man Victor e Felipe (Athos Souza), the same one who has been taken away to be shot by Brazilian rightist vigilantes.

      Little by little as he shares an exercise regiment and small meals with her, she opens up about her own upbringing, and particularly her loneliness from the fact that her three well-off children all live in her native France and seldom come to visitor her in Brazil. Her own relationship with her husband has been unhappy. But now with Fabio, she begins to open up sharing both her

sorrows and joys of her quickly disappearing life.

   Fabio, in turn, begins to tell her of his own life, how we was adopted by a loving couple but who left him alone much of the time, while he, himself, feeling that he was a boy trapped in a young girl’s body with no one to talk to about it, and those days, not computer to rush to in order see if others felt as you did.


     A gay parade parade finally awoke him to his identity, as he suddenly determined to go through the process of transforming himself and his body into the handsome young hirsute man he is today.

     In the background of their gentle and loving conversations is a society that is increasingly hostile to sexual, political, and cultural differences (much like in the US), where transgender children like he has been must now for years before getting medical help because of governmental cuts to such programs. Victor had clearly been working for further LGBTQ+ representation in a society made of cis gender heterosexuals who have no patience for their voices in society, ideas parroted by a taxi driver in a car in which Fabio is riding to work.

     The picture ends, inevitably, with a call from Louise’s daughter Claire to tell him that her mother has died, and in the last scene we see that Fabio has now inherited Louise’s dog.

      That Dark Day is not only a lovely movie about two desperately lonely souls coming together to heal and comfort one another, but as the director himself describes it, “talks about social control and repression, gender censorship, and sexual orientation reinforced by power structures (and their consequences)….The short also reinforces discussions on discrimination, moral judgment, and psychological violence caused by heteronormativity which, in turn, suggests and elaborates behavioral patterns within social structures. That Dark Day entertains while speaking about cultural habits, deconstructs taboos and prejudice, and connects the viewer to different realities in divergent fields.

      This truly melancholy and lovely movie won the “Silver Rabbit” award as the Audience’s Choice for the Best Brazilian Short Film Festival of Diversity Culture in 2022.

 

Los Angeles, December 8, 2024

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (December 2024).



Jimi Vall Peterson | Sova över (Sleepover) / 2018

penguins

by Douglas Messerli

 

Jimi Vall Peterson (screenwriter and director) Sova över (Sleepover) / 2018 [9 minutes]

 

In my day, “sleepovers” were something that occurred between two young teenagers or, perhaps, slightly older teenagers who were either very best friends or looking to become something else. When someone “slept over” after 20, it was usually on the couch or even the floor if it was a student pad. Generally, one did not share the same bed unless they meant business.


     Maybe it’s different in Sweden, or the 20-some year-old boys of Jimi Vall Peterson’s film are just a little slow in coming round to their sexual maturity. Nothing wrong with that; I certainly was a slow learner when it came to sex. But even I, after age 20, knew what it meant to share a bed, which I did quite often in those days.

     Emil and Adam (Hjalmar Hardestam and Simon Eriksson) actually do act far younger than their age, as Emil fantasizes about a dinner for penguins, and presents his friend with a pretend popcorn kiss—putting a kernel between his lips while sticking the head forward as if inviting the other for a kiss, an act which reduces Emil to giggles. These two cuties appear to want something more than their obvious friendship.

     Evidently Adam has a girlfriend who doesn’t seem to mind, at least for Adam’s side a phone call, that his friend Emil is sleeping over. And we have to wonder, why do their already seem to be photos on Adam’s wall of him and Emil is a previous “sleep over.”


     In any event, a night rain turns the boys’ faces into lovely surfaces on which to project the rain drops and the light they reflect, creating emotions that the boys may or may not be feeling within, giving the film a highly dramatic effect as Adam, it appears, is the one who plays footsie with his pretend-to-be-sleeping friend. Emil simply opens his eyes fully and turns over to prevent any other such possible dangers.

      And the next morning, as the boys quietly share their breakfast, it is clear that, once again, they are both disappointed. Adam finally begins their pregnant conversation “I was thinking about….”

 After a long pause, Emil replies, “What?”  When he receives no answer, he tries again, “What were you thinking about?”



      “I was just thinking about the penguins.”

      “Yeah, they’re coming now soon. We’ll have to buy some penguin feed and…”

      “Salt water?”

      “We better stuff them full of food to make them very tasty.”

      And so, the film ends, the boys having to live with the fantasy of entertaining the dressed up, presumably “adult” selves they are still not ready to reveal to one another.

      In the end, it’s a sort of sad statement about a kind of arrested development, which, in fact, is what happens to many young men afraid to come out of the closet, turning instead to behavior that society has trained them to imitate.


     It is perhaps no accident that of all instances of seemingly same-sex relationship in animals, it is most prevalent in penguins, who have been known through instances in zoos around the world to seek out, hatch, and raise foster chicks. Do these boys know that? Was that the subject of the movie they were watching? Are they talking to themselves in code? If so, at least they have promised themselves that it might happen soon, perhaps as early as that very afternoon.

       Alas, this film doesn’t seem to want to further pursue the matter of their inabilities to accept their own feelings. And what we witness, instead, is only the same playful testing of the waters of 12- to 17-year-old-teens that we have seen in dozens of gay films since it has become permissible and fashionable to make them.

        At 20, these boys suggest possibly more serious problems: futures that may not be lived out in accord their inner desires.

 

Los Angeles, April 26, 2023

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (April 2023).

Brian Andrew Hosse | Just Boys / 2018

a misreading

by Douglas Messerli

 

Brian Andrew Hosse (screenwriter and director) Just Boys / 2018 [10 minutes]

 

Filmed in the small German town of Jütebog, German director Brian Andrews Hosse’s short film, Just Boys is in English, while centering around a German boy Adam (Konrad Muschick) and a French-speaking boy Isaac (Rémi Pradère).


     The two boys have arranged to meet in the park after school. But it clear before the two even meet up by Isaac is already somewhat more than attracted to his German friend, since he has already drawn a lovely portrait of Adam.

      Adam finally shows up, pot and beer in hand, as the two boys share the drugs, Isaac somewhat reluctantly, rough house together in the manner of young boys everywhere, and finally to a love song, Joe Vilardi’s “Show You How to Love,” dance together. Adam seems to be more than a little flirtatious, and it clear he is aware of the homoerotic elements of his actions since when three friends pass by, he pulls away immediately, Isaac quickly suggesting that he knows the passerby and he’s embarrassed to be seen.


       As the boys dance, Isaac, now feeling obviously the pull of their homoerotic play, rushes forward to give his friend a deep kiss on the lips, with Adam seemingly pulling him in, hands around Isaac’s head.

     But now Adam seriously pulls away, utterly troubled by what has just happened, and finally, turning to Isaac, says “You said you were not gay,” before he walks away probably out of Isaac’s life except for the schoolroom looks of disdain or even taunting that may follow.

       Isaac, placidly pulls out the drawing and adds in a small growth on Adam’s face, something he obviously had noticed before today, a birthmark which may make his slightly attractive, or perhaps in the boy’s mind even more good-looking in his idealized portrait.

       Young gay men often suffer these misgivings, mistaking the homoerotic behavior of straight boys for an offer of possible acceptance and love.

        The acting here is quite excellent and totally convincing.

 

Los Angeles, December 8, 2024

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (December 2024).

Saturday, December 7, 2024

Maj Jukic | My Dad Marie / 2020

feeling right

by Douglas Messerli

 

Rory Chiplin (screenplay), Maj Jukic (director) My Dad Marie / 2020 [14.34 minutes]

 

Charlie (Harry Pudwell) is having breakfast in a cafe with his father (Marc Baylis), who is babbling on about things they once shared, sports, Charlie’s college experiences, etc. But Charlie can’t bear with it anymore and jumps and leaves.


     His mother Janine (Jennifer K. Preston) has heard about the meeting by the time he returns home and attempts to talk to him about it. It’s his father, she explains, and he has come to come to terms with the changes. It’s simply how things are. We didn’t plan this, she argues, it just happened. And you simply have to deal with it. You have no real choice.

      He’s not my father, Charlie insists. But Janine tries to calm him insisting that, of course, he is and he will always be the boy’s father. “You simply have to come to terms with it.”

      But Charlie, clearly, isn’t coming to terms with the fact that his father is now a female named Marie, and he insists that he doesn’t want to see him ever again.

      His mother demands that he meet with Marie once more, and Charlie agrees, he declares, only to say goodbye. Janine drives him to Marie’s new flat and drops him off, telling him she’ll be back at 2:00, Charlie responding that it won’t be that long and she should just wait where she is. His mother refuses and drives off.



      Marie is clearly in the process of moving in, but encourages her son to sit on the couch. He does so begrudgingly, again refusing to answer any of the questions about college and getting right to the point, once more claiming that the woman named Marie is no longer his father.

      “Of course you’re still my son. This isn’t about black and white.”

      Charlie angrily counters: “If you wanted this in the first place maybe you didn’t want me. And you’re not my dad, then I’m not your son.”

       Again, Marie insists that their relationship of father and son cannot simply be dismissed, and that it’s not a thing of the past. But the boy is so hurt that he can barely stand to hear Marie’s attempted explanation, obviously feeling, as he expressed earlier, “if he has a right to make a decision, then I do too... I don’t want to see him again.”


       In the next frame we observe Charlie back on a street taking a long walk, presuming that once more he simply bolted from the conversation. But, in fact, Marie’s explanation of events continue, so we recognize that at least Charlie stayed on long enough to hear a partial explanation:

      

       I’m sorry, I’m sorry because it took too long. It took too long to

       make my mind up. I’ve had thoughts about this since I was young.

       I’d try on my mom’s clothes when she was out. And her makeup....   

       It felt right. My dad caught me once. And he hit me around for it.

       I was maybe 8, 9.  And it was things like that that made me shut it

       out, ignore it. I’ve only been ready to do this now. It’s the only time

       that’s been right.

 

       We don’t know whether Charlie posed any questions or whether Marie was able to proffer a fuller description of the feelings that pulled her into becoming a transgender woman. We only see the two of them meeting up for a lunch upon a later occasion.


     This time they seem more comfortable with one another even if their conversation appears to be quite trivial. And surprisingly—even to Marie—Charlie announces he has a gift for her. The gift is a ticket to a major football game coming up at which Charlie will join her, a treasure Marie very much appreciates as the two settle into what appears to be an open conversation once again between son and father, even if the father is now a woman named Marie.

     There is no doubt that this complex and, to most individuals, mystifying subject is treated in Slovenian-born, British director Jakic’s film far too simply and is resolved with a scene that doesn’t truly seem to follow from the previous encounter between his characters. We would have loved to have experienced a much longer discussion of the forces that led Marie to comprehend why she felt uncomfortable in a marriage with what appears to be a fairly loving wife and son. And it would have been helpful if the character simply got an opportunity to explain how her life has improved since her transition, or whether, in fact, her feelings about herself have given her a new sense of possibilities and emotional stability. Is she, in fact, happier now than living within the heterosexual  family unit? And how and when did Charlie finally come round to perceive her difficulties and comprehend that his continued friendship with his former dad were crucial to Marie’s well-being?

        And I, it should now be obvious through my writing, would be interested in learning how her gender change has affected—if it has—her sexual desires. Has she gone through a complete sex change or just a partial one? Is she now attracted to men or women, both or neither?

        But you have to credit Jakic for simply taking on this subject, this being one of the very first short films I’ve seen that even comes near such LGBTQ territory. Moreover, Jakic has not made his transgender woman into a sort of drag queen personification of a female, nor even a woman who has focused her transition on stylish dresses, wigs, and makeup. Charlie’s Marie is quite frankly rather plain and ugly, with manly features draped by long, straight hair, dressed up in a loose beige pants suit, blouse and simple half-heels. If she’s wearing makeup, it hasn’t done much good to hide her facial blemishes. Marie clearly made the transition from within far more than in simple outward appearances. There are a great many cis-gender drag queens that look more convincing as a female than Marie does. And that fact helps to establish Marie as a true character, a still fragile being who perhaps cannot fully explain herself why she has needed to change her gender. All we know is that she has patiently waited and fought for her decision when she felt it was the right time.

       Accordingly, even if this short film’s ending does not ring true, we are pleased that life for this fictional Marie does not end tragically. We still wait, however, for a film that might reveal the forces that lead to transgender desire and how that significant transformation effects the individual’s life and his or her family, particularly within a society that has yet to fully comprehend and accept such behavior. Surely, if nothing else, we know that transgender men and women are some of the bravest of beings on the planet.

 

Los Angeles, September 21, 2021

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (September 2021).

Caio Scot | Depois Daquela Festa (After That Party) / 2019

 can we talk?

by Douglas Messerli

 

Mel Carvalho and Lucas Drummond (screenplay), Caio Scot (director) Depois Daquela Festa (After That Party) / 2019

 

Of the dozen films I discuss in the collection of essays, “Family Secrets,” Brazilian director Caio Scot’s After that Party is the only truly comic presentation of family sexual secrets, reflecting as it does a far more contemporary viewpoint which we hope now dominates open societies.       

     This story is really quite simple. Leo (Lucas Drummond) and his long-time girlfriend (Mel Carvalho)—with whom, oddly since it has no reason to appear in this tale except as a kind of quirky aside, he evidently doesn’t have sex—attend a party at which, quite by accident, they both witness Leo’s father (Charles Fricks) in attendance kissing another man.  


    The shock of the scene momentarily sends Leo reeling, having to leave the party immediately to contemplate the situation. His girlfriend pushes him quickly to try to express his true feeling about the incident, and it appears that he is not so upset because he has discovered that his widowed father is now gay, but that he hasn’t told him. The two, father and son, have long been close, and Leo still lives at home with his dad.

      Although the discovery does not seem to be particularly momentous with regard to his love for his father, he and his girlfriend feel it necessary to relieve his father of his secret by revealing their discovery. The question is simply how to go about it, and Leo spends a sleepless night in creating a scenario over a meal of lasagna where he might bring up the subject by discussing his father’s job as an advertising executive before turning it to a discussion of his friends, their off-hour activities, and whether or not he meets others outside of his co-workers, etc. until he can zero in on the particularities which might lead to the revelation.


       Unfortunately, his father serves stroganoff, not their usual Friday night meal, and their conversation is interrupted by a telephone message before it can even begin.

       A day or two later Leo finally confronts his father by recalling a childhood story about himself in which he was afraid of asking his teacher permission to go to the bathroom, as a consequence peeing in his pants and receiving the taunts of his fellow students, all resulting in his determination never to return to school. His father reassured him that he had done nothing wrong, and to prove that he needed to return to the classroom to assert his innocence of wrongdoing.

      So too, he now suggests, he argues his father needn’t feel that he has done anything wrong in the fact that the son has witnessed at the very same party that Leo and his girlfriend attended, his father embrace and kiss a stranger.

      For a moment the father attempts to deny it, but quickly becomes speechless. When he regains his composure, he explains that he never cheated or lied to Leo’s mother and loved her dearly. But suddenly he has found an unexpected love with another human being who just happens to be a man. But there was simply no way he could explain it to Leo for fear that he would misunderstand the situation. 


    

     When it is now established that Leo has no problems with him now having a “boyfriend” the two hug, the elder realizing that there was no need for secrecy, that he was deeply loved and remains so. Leo insists that the three of them have dinner so that can, he jokes, “determine his intentions” regarding his dad.

      Scot’s film feels a little too much like a liberal school-room advocation of open minds and free talk about sexuality. But the script, written by the two actors playing Leo and his girlfriend, at moments is delightfully manic in the son’s attempts to arrange for that open and free conversation between father and son, resulting in Scot’s work being a lot of fun, even if we know the final “feel-good” results. Surely there are a great many Leos and dads out there who have been shaped, post Stonewall, by the general acceptance of LGBTQ behavior in liberal societies worldwide. But, alas, I am afraid that they still do not represent the majority of households. On the very same day I am writing about this film, I have also just watched director/producer Aiman Hasani’s Dutch film Khata (2019) in which a couple of teenage brothers, trapped into male prostitution and with nowhere else to turn, are denied entry into the own home by their parents upon their discovery of their boy’s secret vocations, which only closes off their final possible route of escape. Indeed this film might also have been included in these pages except that I felt it was more centered on their involvement in gay prostitution which I will feature in an upcoming essay, “Working Boys.”

     But it’s a delight to watch a work in which family secrets do not necessarily result in terrifying consequences.

 

Los Angeles, September 21, 2021

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (September 2021).

Index R-Z

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