Overall 0.5 / 5.0 (don’t bother)
Gay Inclusve? Very – mostly gay, some hetero secondary characters
Gay Positive? No – I don’t think they meant to be homophobic, but jeez…

Wow. I actually watched the whole thing, and in hindsight, how did I manage that? I feel like Superman now, able to watch awful movies in their entirety.

Here is the most positive thing I can say about this movie: the performances seem very earnest and enthusiastic, so kudos to the cast for bringing that energy to the show.

Unfortunately, it is far, far… far… from enough to save the film from its choppy editing, godawful camera shots, and aimless plot.

In theory, the movie is supposed to be a satire of a gay man (Jaime, played by Brian Campbell) looking for love and self-understanding via a search for a “straight lover who will be gay just for me.” The movie’s own blurb states, “In the end, Jaime is amazed to discover the one person he never thought he would – himself!”

That’s a stretch. Jaime comes from a background of casual, anonymous sexual encounters in the back of an adult bookstore. One gets the sense he’s never had a real relationship based on commitment and intimacy.

Meanwhile, at his job at an auto shop, he’s closeted. He develops a “bromance” with a (straight) fellow employee (Ray, played by Matt Edwards) who turns out to be a homophobe who tries to get Jaime into deep trouble in a completely contrived plot twist.

Somewhere along the course of the movie, the self-loathing Jaime tries to convince a peer from his backroom sexcapades to move to the suburbs with him and a pair of lesbians to pose as straight couples, so they can try to seduce married straight men. They detour on the way, however, with a series of bathroom encounters with gas station attendants. The film also includes an odd subplot involving a young man (Monty, Michael Gonring) with a self-professed fetish for “trolls” (older gay men). Monty is engaged to be married, and he leaves at the end of the movie for his bride.

I think I’m so disappointed in the movie because its foundational ideas are actually interesting to me. The fetish for straight men (and certainly for straight-acting) is prevalent throughout the gay community, so a satire about a gay man looking for a straight man who will be gay only for him suggests the possibility of both a lot of comedy and a lot of insight. Similarly, youth is highly fetishized in the gay community, so Monty’s subplot could have been woven into the story to enhance and reflect the main story’s theme. Alas. The script is a mishmash of barely coherent scenes and nonstarter plot threads.

My recommendation: Skip it.

My blog concerns itself with portrayals of gay people in all forms of media, but I don’t often discuss music. Still, I came across a fascinating MSNBC op-ed about Katy Perry and her songs “UR So Gay” and “I Kissed a Girl.” Tony Sclafani argues that the songs are “gay-unfriendly” and goes on to lambaste the media for celebrating these songs and sending mixed messages to impressionable young minds. Click here to read “Katy Perry and the media’s ‘Kiss’ of hypocrisy.”

I’ve never liked “UR So Gay.” The whole song is a put down. It takes the expression “That’s so gay,” uses the word gay as a derogatory term, and applies it to a person. That’s hateful. It equates “gay” with “bad.”

I was once at a store with a friend looking at Halloween decorations, and she didn’t like one. She said, “That’s gay.” I gave her a surprised look, and she shrugged it off and said, “You know what I mean.” But no, I actually don’t. How is using what I am as an insult, not an insult to me?

I hate the expression “that’s so gay” more than the term “fag.” At least people recognize that “fag” and “faggot” are offensive terms, on the lines of racial epithets. “That’s so gay,” on the other hand, is insidious. It poses as a socially acceptable statement, but it’s no less prejudicial than calling someone a “fag.”

By contrast, I think “I Kissed A Girl” is a fun song. A couple of lines stand out as potentially problematic: “It’s not what good girls do / Not how they should behave.” But the next two lines are: “My head gets so confused / Hard to obey.” In other words, we’re talking about a girl who has been socially programmed to believe that good girls don’t kiss other girls. Who hasn’t received that kind of social programming in our culture?

So she breaks the programming. That’s what every gay person has to do! It’s one of the struggles of being gay. And then: “I kissed a girl and I liked it.” She describes the experience: “Ain’t no big deal, it’s innocent.”

I just don’t see the same homophobia in “I Kissed A Girl” that’s present in “UR So Gay.” It’s interesting that these two songs came from the same artist, which leads me to think that “UR So Gay” is unintentionally homophobic, that is, she just didn’t think through what she was really saying. That doesn’t make it less homophobic, but it does make me inclined to be a little more forgiving.

Here are the lyrics to “UR So Gay”:

(Verse 1)
I hope you hang yourself with your H&M scarf
While jacking off listening to Mozart
You bitch and moan about LA
Wishing you were in the rain reading Hemingway
You don’t eat meat
And drive electrical cars
You’re so indie rock it’s almost an art
You need SPF 45 just to stay alive

(CHORUS)
You’re so gay and you don’t even like boys
No you don’t even like
No you don’t even like
No you don’t even like boys
You’re so gay and you don’t even like boys
No you don’t even like
No you don’t even like
No you don’t even like…

(Verse 2)
You’re so sad maybe you should buy a happy meal
You’re so skinny you should really Super Size the deal
Secretly you’re so amused
That nobody understands you
I’m so mean cause I cannot get you outta your head
I’m so angry cause you’d rather MySpace instead
I can’t believe I fell in love with someone that wears more makeup than…

(CHORUS)
You’re so gay and you don’t even like boys
No you don’t even like
No you don’t even like
No you don’t even like boys
You’re so gay and you don’t even like boys
No you don’t even like
No you don’t even like
No you don’t even like…

(BRIDGE)
You walk around like you’re oh so debonair
You pull ‘em down and there’s really nothing there
I wish you would just be real with me

(CHORUS)
You’re so gay and you don’t even like boys
No you don’t even like
No you don’t even like
No you don’t even like boys
You’re so gay and you don’t even like boys
No you don’t even like
No you don’t even like
Oh no no no no no no no
You’re so gay and you don’t even like boys
No you don’t even like
No you don’t even like
No you don’t even like boys
You’re so gay and you don’t even like boys
No you don’t even like
No you don’t even like
No you don’t even like…
penis!

And “I Kissed a Girl”:

This was never the way I planned
Not my intention
I got so brave, drink in hand
Lost my discretion
It’s not what, I’m used to
Just wanna try you on
I’m curious for you
Caught my attention

I kissed a girl and I liked it
The taste of her cherry chap stick
I kissed a girl just to try it
I hope my boyfriend don’t mind it
It felt so wrong
It felt so right
Don’t mean I’m in love tonight
I kissed a girl and I liked it
I liked it

No, I don’t even know your name
It doesn’t matter
You’re my experimental game
Just human nature
It’s not what, good girls do
Not how they should behave
My head gets so confused
Hard to obey

I kissed a girl and I liked it
The taste of her cherry chap stick
I kissed a girl just to try it
I hope my boyfriend don’t mind it
It felt so wrong
It felt so right
Don’t mean I’m in love tonight
I kissed a girl and I liked it
I liked it

Us girls we are so magical
Soft skin, red lips, so kissable
Hard to resist so touchable
Too good to deny it
Ain’t no big deal, it’s innocent

I kissed a girl and I liked it
The taste of her cherry chap stick
I kissed a girl just to try it
I hope my boyfriend don’t mind it
It felt so wrong
It felt so right
Don’t mean I’m in love tonight
I kissed a girl and I liked it
I liked it

Just your average boy-meets-girl, girl-sends-boy-on-impossible-quest, boy-meets-fallen-star-who’s-a-girl, boy-falls-in-love-with-star, what’s-a-boy-to-do kind of fairy tale.

Specifically, a star named Yvaine (Claire Danes) falls into Stormhold, a magical realm completely contained within England. Our hero Tristan (Charlie Cox) promises to retrieve the fallen star for Victoria (Sienna Miller) in order to win her hand in marriage. But others also seek the star for more sinister purposes. The fratricidal sons of a recently deceased king want the enchanted gemstone that knocked poor Yvaine out of the sky, because the heir who retrieves it becomes the next king. Additionally, a fantastically sinister witch (Lamia, played by Michelle Pfeiffer) desires the star with the hope of cutting out Yvaine’s heart and eating it, and thereby gaining immortality and renewed youth.

The diverse plot threads interweave – and coalesce at the finale – organically, poetically, and cleverly. The screenplay, direction, and cinematography demonstrate a gestalt effect wherein the result is greater than the sum of the parts. Altogether, “there is a narrative flow that makes you want to be swept along” (1). Kudos to Matthew Vaughn (director and screenwriter), Jane Goldman (screenwriter), Ben Davis (cinematography), and Gavin Bocquet (production design)! The magnificent and sweeping imagery of the movie, and the dramatic musical score by Nan Eshkeri, serve to accentuate the mythicality of the tale, and lend an epic feel to the fairy tale.

The actors contribute to the gestalt effect and help the story shine. Michelle Pfeiffer is radiant in her role as evil witch Lamia. She provides depth and humanity to an otherwise cartoonish, classic fairy tale villain, and her own enjoyment of playing the character comes through. She owns every scene in which she appears. And my goodness, she has aged gracefully and gorgeously!

Claire Danes has certainly grown up (into Gwyneth Paltrow) since her days on the TV series “My So-Called Life.” Her attempt at an English accent threw me at first, but she brings a soft-edged sarcasm to Yvaine that I enjoy. The unusual character makes for a challenging role; and although there are some miscues, on the whole Danes navigates the role ably.

In fact, she and the adorable Charlie Cox enjoy an easy on-screen chemistry that makes their love story believable and adds texture to the film. Cox plays Tristan as a sweet-natured, endearing, fumbling lad who grows into a good-natured, heroic, and dashing protagonist.

Thematically, the metaphor-rich, mythic movie has a lot going for it. Most obviously, “Stardust” is a love story that also asks what true love means. Common fairy tale form demands that the hero go on an epic quest in order to win the heart of his true love. But “Stardust” posits that true love demands nothing in return: no quests, no prizes, no proof.

Furthermore, “Stardust” emphasizes the importance of looking past the surface. Nothing is quite what it seems; and in the realm of Stormhold, that truism is taken to extremes! No character turns out to be what they seem. The story allows various characters to reach inside and find their true selves; it also forces exposure of the characters trying most desperately to be what they’re not. “Each character undergoes a transformation that reveals his or her hidden, truer self, and potential for both good and for evil” (2).

That being said, the movie misses some wonderful opportunities to probe more deeply by tending toward the lowest-common-denominator presentation of many of its characters (more on this shortly), and failing to stray too far from fairy tale convention. “Stardust” is a quirky tale in many ways, innovative in a few, but revolutionary in none. Perhaps we will someday have a fairy tale that is unmistakably contemporary in tone and texture, if not content, but “Stardust” is not that tale.

Still, “Stardust” is a fantastic, lovely story. “While many big stars grace the cast, the film’s real star is the sense of wonder and boundless possibility that [this] magical world creates: [that] even a country boy can become a dashing hero and find true love with a fallen star” (3). The movie is sweet and charming, with feel-good positive messages, and awe-inspiring presentation. “Stardust” will appeal most to those who enjoy love stories and/or fantasy tales. Otherwise, its charms probably won’t have much sway over the viewer.

The film may well have a difficult time finding an audience. In fact, the movie should have done better box office thus far. But “Stardust” has received relatively little publicity, and the studio seems uncertain how to market it. And even though it’s based on a work by well-known and respected author Neil Gaiman, neither he nor the book have the name recognition of many other book-based fantasy films. It’s unjust that “Eragon” (2006) did better box office in its first few weeks than this beautiful story.

“Stardust” is probably more comparable to “The Princess Bride” (1987), or perhaps “Willow” (1988). Many reviews have noted the comparisons. Both “The Princess Bride” and “Willow” are unconventional fairy tales which didn’t find a core audience until release on video and DVD, after which they achieved cult followings. Indeed, the similarity is particularly striking between “Stardust” and “The Princess Bride,” which share a narrative style, light-hearted approach, and true-love story.

But an important difference separates the two: “The Princess Bride” benefits from a relentless sense of humor that helps broaden its attraction; it’s as much comedy as fantasy. Along those lines, “The Princess Bride” eschews the conventions of fantasy and fairy tales in favor of skewering them with satire. While “Stardust” doesn’t take itself seriously (it’s just a fun movie, and knows it), the fantasy emphasis, relatively conventional fairy tale form, and lack of a comedy-all-the-way vibe narrows the demographic appeal.

I have tried to do my part, though. I saw it first on a Friday, and then went again the following Sunday. I’ve talked this movie up to anyone who will listen. And I’ll be first in line to buy the DVD. Let me state it plainly: unless you hate fantasy or love stories, watch this movie!

That is not to say the film is perfect. Minor inconsistencies pop up repeatedly, likely stemming from the adaptation and condensation of the book. Then there are two things about this movie I simply don’t like. Well, more precisely, one thing I don’t like and another about which I have mixed emotions.

I don’t like the sexism of the film. It’s very conventional regarding sex roles. All the women in the film fall into one of two distinct categories: damsel in distress requiring rescue, or evil hag. These folks would probably have a heart attack if they ever met Xena the Warrior Princess.

True, Yvaine has a dramatic moment at the film’s climax, “and it would seem for a moment that women’s agency has been recovered and the gender story of the movie has been somewhat redeemed. But then Tristan asks her why she didn’t use her special powers earlier in the story. Her answer, ‘I can’t shine without you’” (4). The only women who exercise personal agency, power, and/or independence, are evil.

The sexism creeps into other areas as well. For example, Captain Shakespeare (Robert De Niro) teaches Tristan how to swordfight and be a pirate, while teaching Yvaine how to dance and play the piano. Not to mention that when he dresses the two, he directs Yvaine to the silky gowns, because those are of course the most sensible clothes for cross-country adventuring.

Apparently the sexism doesn’t bother too many women, though. As mentioned, I’ve seen the movie twice. I had two female companions my age at the first viewing, and they walked out of the theater chatting wistfully about meeting prince charming someday. My mother saw the movie with me the second time, and I explicitly asked her if the sexism bothered her, and she said, no, it’s just like any old-style fairy tale.

For myself, I agree with Debbie from the blog Body Impolitic: “Lots of fairy tales are like that: 21st century ones don’t have to be, and shouldn’t be” (5).

I understand the book (which I have not read) is much more nuanced regarding characters and relationships. It would seem the movie sacrifices shades of gray for black-and-white, and takes a reductionist approach to all its characters by fitting them into familiar, conventional roles.

Which brings me to the other item, about which I have mixed emotions: the gay content. It’s never explicitly spelled out that one character is gay, so I’ll put it in the “gay vague” category, but it’s pretty obvious what the filmmakers intended. The portrayal is more disappointing than insulting, and decidedly mixed: kudos for inclusivity and friendly treatment; scorn for negative stereotypes.

(WARNING – Moderate Spoiler as I discuss the gay content and positivity in greater detail)

Robert De Niro plays Captain Shakespeare, a pirate with a fearsome reputation who aids Tristan and Yvaine. In fact, his role is absolutely crucial in the movie and impacts multiple subplots. But he has a secret softer side.

Again, it’s never established clearly that he’s gay. He may merely be a mincing transvestite. But in Hollywood, that’s usually code for gay. The stunt casting of De Niro for this role, and his completely over the top performance, does prompt some laughter, but sometimes it was the kind of chuckling that’s half because it’s funny, and half because I-can’t-believe-he-just-did-that. As Orson Scott Card says, the laughs he earns are “hearty but cheap, like a character in a lowbrow sketch-comedy show. I’m not saying it’s not funny; I’m just saying it doesn’t fit in this
movie” (6).

The aspect of the character that bothers me the most is his ultimate lack of agency, which defies the logic of the story. Captain Shakespeare teaches Tristan how to fence. At the beginning of the movie, Tristan tests his fencing skills, and turns out to suck hardcore at it. After Shakespeare’s done with him, he’s a master with a blade. And yet, when Shakespeare himself is later threatened by Prince Septimus (Mark Strong), he’s completely at the mercy of his aggressor. What?!

Oh, right, I forgot. Because gay men are weak, of course, and couldn’t possibly overpower a straight man. In fact, Tristan’s training ends with his requisite victory over Captain Shakespeare, followed later by Prince Septimus completely overpowering Shakespeare, who then must be rescued like the aforementioned damsel in distress.

I do see some off-setting factors that make the gay positivity mixed rather than purely negative.

1. The inclusivity. Frankly, “Stardust” has broken new ground by including even a “gay vague” character. It’s a wide-release, fantasy-genre, fairy tale-style, family-friendly movie with gay content in it. It speaks poorly of the gay-friendliness of the fantasy genre at large that such inclusion should be remarkable. But there it is, and for this particular film, I have to say kudos. I really do appreciate the gay element, even if it is minor and clichéd. I feel frustrated being so grateful for crumbs, but considering other fantasy movies give the gay community nothing, I have to take what I can get. And the inclusion has a gay-friendly vibe to it. Largely because…
2. …the character is a good guy, and the script and story treat him sensitively (relatively speaking). His crew ultimately accepts and embraces him, even though they always knew he was “woopsie.” And Captain Shakespeare aids the protagonists tremendously, imparting wisdom, important skills, and saving their lives. It could be argued the character serves as reminder that even effeminate guys can be commanding and possess warriorly skills; Tristan starts the movie as a very poor fencer, and it’s Captain Shakespeare who teaches him the impressive and successful swordplay he later employs.
3. The film even implies a happy ending for Captain Shakespeare, as he flirts with a handsome lad during the movie’s denouement. Or, as AfterElton.com phrases it: “Hot fop action” (7)!
4. The subplot is thematically rich. If they’re going to be clichéd about it, they might as well mine the stereotypes for as much meaning as they can. And happily, they do. The role provides a nice point-counterpoint to the whole gender role issue, to reputation versus being true to oneself, and to the outside mask versus the internal truth.

Of additional gay interest:  Rupert Everett has a minor role,  and Ian McKellen narrates.

—————————-

(1) Ebert, Roger. “Stardust.” Chicago Sun-Times.
http://rogerebert.suntimes.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20070809/R EVIEWS/70710009/1023, 10 August 2007 (5 September 2007). Please note, I am quoting a positive line from Ebert, but I don’t want to misrepresent his review: he gave the movie a decidedly lukewarm reception.

(2) Tubbs, Gregg. “Movie Review: Stardust.” UMC.org.
http://www.umc.org/site/c.lwL4KnN1LtH/b.3090985/k.72C0/Movie_Review_Stardust.htm (5 September 2007) More than a review, Tubbs’ piece aims to stimulate discourse on the deeper meaning of the movie.

(3) Ibid.

(4) Debbie. “Neil Gaiman’s Stardust: Evil Crones, Decorative Maidens, and One Shackled Mother.” Body Impolitic. 12 August 2007. http://laurietobyedison.com/discuss/?p=417 (5 September 2007)

(5) Ibid.

(6) Card, Orson Scott. “Stardust: the book and the movie.” Uncle Orson Reviews Everything. 12 August 2007. http://www.hatrack.com/osc/reviews/everything/2007-08-12.shtml (5 September 2007).

(7) Juergens, Brian. “Stardust? More Like Fairydust!” AfterElton.com Best. Gay. Week. Ever. 16 August 2007. http://www.afterelton.com/bgwe/08-17-07?page=0%2C3 (5 September 2007).

Ugly, brutish, and more than a little dumb. If that describes your perfect film, knock yourself out. As for myself, I am underwhelmed.

On the bright side, I thought the cinematography was surprisingly well done for a low budget movie. The grittiness meshed well with the material. The principal actors, particularly Bret Roberts as Travis and Brian Austin Green (yeah, that one) as Jacko, did great jobs with their role. Green in particular lent a natural believability to his role, even when the script itself was wooden.

Travis is an aspiring boxer with hopes of moving to Vegas as a professional. His best friend, Jacko, is a mildly psycho and hugely homophobic loser. The main thrust (ahem) of the film lies in how homophobia in the run-down, urban setting plays out in their lives.

Unfortunately, the plot has a couple of serious flaws. For example, it’s too small a movie spread over too long a time. In other words, the movie begs for tighter writing and editing. I’d almost argue the basic story is better suited to a short film: a shorter format would force the filmmaker to be clearer, more concise, and more focused on the central theme of the movie, without muddying it with subplots that don’t really go anywhere (such as Travis’ and Jacko’s family situations).

The most serious flaw is also the most crucial plot point: the idea that Travis, a boxer who specializes in a body-to-body move called the “Clinch,” habitually gets an erection during that move. I found it hard to believe. Outside of that single moment, Travis doesn’t read as gay. In fact, he seems pretty resolutely heterosexual, with no evidence of even internal conflict or uncertainty. About the gayest thing he does in the film is to refrain from joining his friend Jacko in gay bashing some poor soul. In fact, by the end of the movie, I was not questioning Travis’ sexuality as much as Jacko’s. Someone with that much to prove has something to hide.

Oh, and throw in a whole lot of clichés … the broken families, the girlfriend, the aging trainer with one last hope (Travis), the violent northside/southside rivalry, the local cop … yeah, call me underwhelmed.

I also scored the movie low on the Gay Positivity scale, though I have tried to think about this film a little more deeply. Is there a positive side I’m not seeing because I’m so upset about the gay negative stuff? Moreover, am I being overly reactive? That is, am I saying, “Omigod, they’re dissing gay people!” and get all angry, without realizing that’s the point of the film – to explore the issue of dissing gay people, what it means, how it works, why it exists?

On the positive side… Well, for one thing, the one and only clearly gay person portrayed is just a regular guy. Well, sort of. Insofar as regular guys happily duck into a dark and dirty alley in a bad part of town to give a blowjob to an unknown albeit cute boy.

Oh, and then he gets bashed so badly he ends up paralyzed. Maybe not so positive.

Still, the sheer amount of homophobia shown in the movie reflects poorly on the homophobic characters, an important component of off-setting the negativity of homophobia. And yet, the film never really demonizes the homophobia, per se. Rather, the homophobia ends up being part of the texture of the landscape, of the psychology of this particular micro-civilization. The group dynamics that act themselves out over the course of the film take place within a framework of homophobia, with significant plot points prompted by the egregious anti-gay attitude.

But the film never really explores that there’s a deeper underlying connection between homophobia and violence (I mean more than just the gay bashing violence), and it never clearly indicts homophobia as destructive on oneself, not just on others.

Yes, of course, the destructiveness of homophobia is shown in the film: the gay bashing, or how graffiti alleging a gay relationship prompts a vicious, violent triple assault. But is it clear how, say, Jacko’s own homophobia is destructive to himself, his own sense of self, his own healthy self-regard, to his personal experience and hopes for the future? I see it, but it’s an issue I’ve thought about. Would your average person watching this film make the mental leap? Given what’s in the film, probably not.

One Amazon.com review comments that the portrayal of gay characters in this movie is a refreshing change from “easily digestible, non-threatening image of gay men” such as the characters of “Will & Grace.” I disagree completely. Only one (minor) character is clearly gay, and he gets violently bashed. We may question Jacko’s or Travis’s sexuality, but the film presents no real evidence to say either is gay. So, instead, we have a film in which the sole gay, after flirting with Travis, is threatened and victimized. To be a refreshing change from a non-threatening gay like Will, we’d need a tough gay character who can stand up emotionally and physically to the homophobia and triumph in the end. I would love to see that character. But s/he is not found in this film.

On the whole, I like this movie. Despite its many flaws.

The film benefits from some great acting. Certainly, it enjoys a caliber of talent unusual for an independent feature. Jacqueline Bisset as Lila, despite the schlocky role, gives a performance that provides an emotional heart to the movie. Steve Sandvoss is pitch perfect as the sweet, conflicted, not-quite-naive Mormon (Aaron). Rebekah Johnson brings a feistiness that brings the stock fag-hag character (Julie) to life. Wes Ramsey as protagonist Christian does a good job as well, with the exception of a couple of overwrought monologues. But the monologues were written that way, so it’s hard to blame Ramsey too much. (Wait until he tells the story of getting left behind in the woods. You’ve got to be kidding me.)

The character of Christian irritates me. It’s like the writer (C. Jay Cox) said to himself, I want this person to be Gay Everyman. But his version of Gay Everyman happens to encompass a whole lot of stereotypical behavior. Meanwhile, the character of Aaron was very engaging: sweet, kind, and sincere. I really wanted Aaron to find happiness. Probably the filmmakers intended the central conflict to hinge on whether Aaron and Christian got together. But in watching the movie, I cared about that only insofar as it meant Aaron was able to exorcise his personal demons. Although I did appreciate Christian’s rather dramatic personal growth over the course of the film.

I have mixed emotions about the character of Keith (Erik Palladino), the gay man suffering from advanced AIDS. I always have mixed emotions about HIV/AIDS in gay-themed films: I tire of the association of disease, HIV/AIDS in particular, with the gay community, so I get frustrated easily when it seems like every other film throws in an HIV+ character for some kind of street cred.

On the other hand, HIV/AIDS is an important part of the history of the gay community, and remains a continuing concern. Especially since many young gay people nowadays don’t seem to take HIV/AIDS seriously.

But Keith’s role in the film is just over-the-top in a film already brimming with negative gay clichés. Christian finds meaning and depth by getting to know this gay man, who used to be like Christian, until AIDS enlightened him to the true meaning of Christmas.

That character is indicative of what’s fundamentally wrong with the movie. I can value having a guy in the movie who has AIDS, who has actually stopped and looked at the events of his life (including but not limited to the disease) and actually managed to squeeze out insight and wisdom. Consider the HIV+ character of Ben (Robert Gant) in “Queer as Folk.” But that’s not exactly how Keith’s character is portrayed; he’s too one-note, with too many one-liners, to have the depth needed for his role.

The movie is simply too heavy-handed without having the depth of character or thematic goods to back it up. One scene portrays an argument Christian has with some random trick that sleeping together is much more intimate than sex, and how the preference for the latter over the former is an unhealthy reversal of priorities in the gay community. That experience apparently helps Christian to appreciate the value of the depth and moral center that Aaron offers. It could have worked, had it been written and directed with any subtlety or nuance.

And then there’s the treatment of the Mormon Church.

In a lot of ways, “Latter Days” is an uncomfortable film. It benefits from an underlying sweetness, which mostly originates in the performances (especially Lila and Aaron). And the lead characters, unoriginal though they may be, are basically likeable – that helps a whole lot.

But the charm is undercut by a hateful edge: at the same time it’s trying to be a gay love story, the film is also attacking the Mormon Church (and, by extension, any organized religion which considers homosexuality sinful). The filmmakers have the right to make whatever kind of movie they want; and if they want to attack the Mormon Church, so be it. I’m not a fan of Mormonism, based upon what I know if it, so I have no argument with that. But using the medium of film to attack something lends a certain ugliness to the feel of the work. Trying to be a sweet love story and an assault on a particular group of people at the same time makes for a strange viewing experience. Even being unfamiliar with Mormon missionary work, I had the sense that certain facts were distorted or dramatized in order to highlight the condemnation of Mormonism. Ryder (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) is too much a caricature of intolerant evangelism to really take seriously.

Consider the thoughts of reviewer and commentator Eric Snyder on this subject:

“Cox is allowed some poetic license, of course; he never claimed he was making a documentary. But I have to question his motives. As a former church member, Cox knows how missionaries really talk and act, and he knows how the church really operates. He is skewing the facts either A) because doing so helps his story progress, or B) because he wants viewers to dislike the church as much as he does. I hope it is option A, as that only makes him a bad filmmaker — good filmmakers use the facts of the world as they actually are to tell their stories, and don’t resort to making stuff up — while option B would make him something worse. Intentionally distorting the facts so your opponent looks more evil than he is smells like propaganda — which, again, is Cox’s right as a filmmaker, but which makes him seem like a guy with an ax to grind, not a guy with a story to tell” (1).

I did wonder myself about whether the filmmakers had an ax to grind, but I was equally confused by the mixed messages in the movie, because there’s just so much gay negativity.  And not just around the conflicted Mormon boy. Of course, Aaron is the most tortured of all the characters. Sometimes literally: wait until the scenes from the prison, er, hospital trying to “fix” him following Aaron’s attempt to “fix” himself, in a manner of speaking.

The film portrays a society which persecutes and literally tortures gay people because of unyielding, unthinking homophobia. Aaron persecutes and tortures himself because he has internalized that perspective. But what is the alternative presented, the other side of the story?

Is it someone like Gene Robinson or Mel White, well-known gay men committed to spiritual work in the world? No.

Or even someone like the aforementioned Ben from “Queer As Folk,” who certainly suffers from his own inner demons but is still a person of impressive depth and learning? No.

It’s a promiscuous (even when he’s pining for Aaron, he still brings tricks home!), theatrical, superficial flake who is held up in the film to represent openly gay life. What does that say? It’s an odd juxtaposition, at the least. Take the worst of the anti-gay world and the most clichéd of gay life, and throw them together!

As stated, I like this film. It benefits from a basic sweetness and an engaging exploration of the universal human longing for affection and understanding and the peeling away of the protective emotional layers we wrap around ourselves. Some of the scenes are fantastic. I especially enjoyed the penultimate scene, the emotional climax of the movie. Even if the plot that led us to that moment was contrived and forced, it’s still a great moment.

But keep your expectations low – the film suffers from a heavy-handed approach to theme and a cookie-cutter approach to characterization and plot that prevent the film from truly shining.

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(1) Snyder, Eric. “Latter Days,” EricDSnider.com, March 2004, http://www.ericdsnider.com/movies/latter-days (17 August 2007)

A fluffer is a behind-the-scenes person at a porn shoot who fellates or otherwise brings the male porn star to full arousal, so he can perform on-camera.

Young Sean (Michael Cunio) is a fresh-faced transplant to Los Angeles, hoping to find work as a cameraman. Instead, he finds himself at the Men of Janus production company, largely thanks to a porno he inadvertently watches starring Johnny Rebel (Scott Gurney). And so begins Sean’s obsession with the self-involved and self-destructive Johnny, leading not only to camera work for Sean, but also the task of fluffing the object of his obsession.

The movie offers surprisingly smart moments. It opens with a quote from Ovid about Narcissus, a theme reflected throughout the movie, particularly in a clever fantasy sequence involving a mirror.

The movie also depicts porn culture not as intrinsically destructive to those who work within it; but certainly as a wide-open gateway to self-destruction. Pleasantly, the (self-)destructiveness of the porn culture did not translate thematically into gay culture = self-destruction (which would have been a gay positivity no-no).

This content yielded a movie smarter than I expected, but it still ends up trying to tell too much story and go too many places. So while it may be smart, its edge is greatly dulled.

The soul of the movie is a comment by Silver (Adina Porter), Sean’s friend and co-worker at Men of Janus:

“People get f**ked up working at K-Mart. People get f**ked up working in Hollywood. It’s called the adult film industry. If you’re going to work in it, you’d better be an adult.”

Writer Wash West comes from the porn industry and could have written an incisive drama exploring that very theme. But about halfway through, the movie begins to unravel as it takes on too much storytelling baggage, and once it introduces the silly murder mystery, all hope of a coherent story is lost.

As an interesting aside, despite the subject and context of the film, there’s no real nudity. When Sean goes to work on Johnny, he simply dips down out of the camera frame. Perhaps the lack of flesh is meant to differentiate a film about the porn industry from a film that is porn.