Overall Quality 2.0 / 5.0 (a lot of potential, but hobbled by inconsistent storytelling)
Gay Inclusive? Very – one of the two main characters is gay, and the other is at least bicurious
Gay Positive? Mixed – these people have a lot of growing up to do, and they don’t do it in this film

An odd movie. In some ways, filmmaker Damion Dietz displays remarkable talent. The story continually defies expectation, he manages to draw some fine scenes out of his acting talent, and the script successfully forces the viewer to think about the story being told.

Weak-willed (but very handsome) Nate has recently enlisted in the army at the urging of his critical mother and self-involved girlfriend. He decides to seek out his biological father for the first time before he leaves for Iraq. Meanwhile, gay emo boy Andy is reeling from the death of his marine lover and struggling with his responsibilities as a young father (he is gay; apparently the conception was lubricated with tequila).

But. The movie is riddled with plot contrivances, the characterization relies far too much on stock clichés and still manages to be inconsistent, and the ending simply fails to satisfy.

As a result, I cannot recommend the movie without qualifications. It’s above average among independent gay films, thanks to a deep story and fair-to-good acting. It’s also a very sexy film. At the same time, all of that is faint praise – most independent gay films suck, and handsome man-flesh only compensates so much.

Regarding the gay positivity of the film, I’m puzzled by its mixed messages, which are the result of terrible and inconsistent characterization.

Andy is easily the most inconsistent character, sometimes mournfully deep, other times shockingly immature and irresponsible. He’s pining for a marine lover who died (recently, by implication); he was alternately distant and clinging with newly enlisted Nate, but rarely displayed the emotion that made sense at the time.

Nate, meanwhile, is a straight guy who enjoys one night of passion with Andy. It was hard to buy into – I never understood Nate’s journey in this film. I had no sense that either Andy or Nate had really grown as people by the end of the film.

The ending. It’s not a matter of how the relationship between Andy and Nate changes at the end. I kind of like that it defies expectation. But the conclusion doesn’t answer any questions, nor does it manage to capitalize on any of the film’s themes in a meaningful way. I get the sense the film ends the way it does because Dietz doesn’t know how to end it otherwise.

Teaser:

Overall Quality 2.0 / 5.0 (A+ for effort, but hard to really recommend)
Gay Inclusive? Very – it’s a dramatic gay romance
Gay Positive? Mostly – a few instances of internal & external homophobia pop up

From the same filmmaker (Jeff London) as Regarding Billy, we have Arizona Sky.

The movie opens with a scene between teenage Jake (Blaise Embry) and Kyle (Kyle Buckland). They have been having a secret romance, but now Jake’s family is moving away. They promise to keep in touch, but we all know how adolescent promises like that turn out.

Fast forward fifteen years, and we meet an adult Jake (Eric Dean). He’s a movie producer deeply dissatisfied with his life. His straight best friend (Brent King) calls him on it, and Jake decides to take a vacation to his home town, where he looks up Kyle (Jayme McCabe).

I was engaged by the first half of the movie. From the moment adult Jake met adult Kyle, however, the script took a sharp left into hokey and hackneyed. I was almost ready to buy into the foundational idea that maybe Jake and Kyle, even after 15 years, still had a powerful connection. But as soon as we meet the adult Kyle, it’s apparent that these two have grown into such fundamentally different men, I could not understand why they were so impassioned about one another that they would be driven into histrionics.

Maybe it has something to do with the self-indulgent script. Every scene is at least 10 or 20 percent longer than it should be, and the movie is incredibly talky. I like thoughtful screenplays, but even I was dying for something to happen.

The basic story is sweet. Most of the acting ranges from passable to competent. (Note I said “most”). A charming performance from Eric Dean is probably the movie’s highlight; I also really enjoyed the repartee between him and his straight best friend. Arizona Sky is gay-positive on the whole, a few instances of homophobia notwithstanding.

Everything shows potential, from the acting to the script. The movie just never gels. Its disparate parts are all off just enough that I spent the whole movie divorced from the experience. I never stopped being aware that I was watching a movie.

Overall Quality 4.5 / 5.0
Gay Inclusive? Very – an engaging and moving story of the gay rights movement and one of its heroes
Gay Positive? Very – although a tragic tale, it is fiercely empowering

This is the movie I wish Brokeback Mountain had been.

Don’t get me wrong – Brokeback Mountain was a masterpiece of film-making, and it was robbed of its rightful Academy Award. But I have a love-hate relationship with such movies – beautiful, moving, and important stories that are horribly tragic and unhappy. I’m glad that a gay love story finally hit the mainstream with Brokeback Mountain, but it did nothing to dispel myths like gay-love-is-doomed and bad-things-will-happen-to-you-if-you’re-gay.

Milk also brings a tragic story to the big screen: the assassination of gay rights pioneer Harvey Milk. Yet Milk is empowering in a way Brokeback Mountain was not. Instead of vaguely feeling bad about being gay, I felt inspired, charged up and ready to fight for my rights. Milk also brings to the big screen the struggle not just for equal rights but also for freedom from the physical and emotional violence that gay people have long endured.

Just this week, former Arkansas Governor Mike Huckabee claimed on The View that gay rights are not civil rights because gay people have not been subjected to a history of violence like black people. Such a willfully ignorant statement is nothing short of appalling; and yet, it is representative of a surprisingly large swath of the population. Many do not acknowledge or do not care about the persecution of gays in Nazi Germany; the institutionalized violence against gay people by police in previous decades and by religious organizations (like the Mormons using electro-shock therapy to “cure” homosexuality); and individual hate crimes that have claimed the lives of people like Matthew Shepherd.

Thank God for Milk, and what a timely film it is. The movie dramatizes Milk’s move to San Francisco and his subsequent rise to the position of City Supervisor (after several failed attempts). Once in the position, a significant portion of the movie details his fight against Proposition 6, which would have enabled the state of California to fire any teacher known to be gay along with any teacher who supported them.

Fast forward 30 years, and Californians once again vote on a proposition of concern to gay rights – Proposition 8, which successfully banned gay marriage (after the California Supreme Court legalized it).

My only criticism of the film falls on the editing, and I’m not sure what the Gus van Sant could have done differently. He’s just covering so much territory in the space of a couple of hours that much of the story gets told in fast-forward. Nevertheless, the movie was engrossing from start to finish, and the phenomenal acting from all quarters – both Sean Penn and Josh Brolin deserve extra mention – imbues the story with life.

Please see this movie. Please take your friends and family to see it. Particularly in the aftermath of Proposition 8’s passage, a lot of people seem to dismiss the gay community’s reaction as sore losers throwing a tantrum because they didn’t get their way. They do not – perhaps because they are not willing to – recognize how a group of people have been systematically oppressed throughout even the history of a country that espouses the values of equality and the separation of church and state.

Milk is a sad tale, but one encoupled with hope. I walked out of the theater both devastated and determined. One thing can be said of Harvey Milk: his hope lives on in those of us who are willing to embrace it.

“If a bullet should go through my head, let that bullet go through every closet door”

- Harvey Milk

Overall Quality 3.0 / 5.0 (pleasant but unfulfilling)
Gay Content 3.0 / 5.0 (well, definitely non-straight, anyways)
Gay Positivity 3.5 / 5.0 (mixed, but more positive than not)

I’d call 20 Centimeters a pleasant diversion that never really comes together.

Unfortunately, its most unusual features strike me as contrivances designed to lend interest to the story’s main plot. With stronger writing and direction, the central story wouldn’t needn’t the help – the pre-op transsexual Marieta (Mónica Cervera) wants to have a sex-change operation, but she finds herself in a romantic relationship that wouldn’t survive the procedure. Meanwhile, she’s a sex worker who plies specific fetishes while desperately trying to break into the world of conventional, gainful employment. Those dilemmas offer plentiful drama and tension.

As it is, the script is sloppy, and the movie tries to compensate with a couple of extraneous elements. Marieta is narcoleptic, and whenever she falls asleep, she dreams of multilingual musical numbers. Visually, the song-and-dance sequences are interesting, but I found their lyrics inane. Their content reflects Marieta’s mood but in most cases didn’t seem thematically helpful to the story.

I have mixed emotions about the conclusion. I don’t want to give it away, so I’ll put it this way: Marieta has to choose between her relationship with a hot guy (Raul, played by Pablo Puvol), and her relationship with her female identity. If she takes the former path, it means she’s learned to accept herself as she is, all parts intact, and found love and happiness, but she sacrifices her understanding of herself as a female in order to be with this man. If she takes the latter route, it means she’s being true to herself, which is always a path of integrity, but she loses a great relationship because she can’t make peace with herself-as-she-is. That’s how I see it, anyways – if I possessed a female gender identity while living in a male body, one ending might stand out to me as “better” than the other.

Marieta’s relationship with Raul interests me, and I wish the film had delved deeper into it. Raul does not see himself or Marieta as “fags,” even though he loves being the sexually passive partner, and the fact that Marieta has oversized male genitals. I understand that in many cultures, a man may not identify as gay as long as he is not the receptive partner, but that’s not the case here. Raul adheres to rigid sexual roles even though both he and Marieta clearly defy convention, which doesn’t strike me as gay-positive (i.e., gay is so bad, he falls into denial). On the other hand, they are in a sexually nebulous realm, and Raul is just applying one possibly interpretation (out of many) to their relationship. It may be the only sexual reference point he knows. Marieta is more worldly, and as a result, she is more sexually fluid. Still, her identity as unilaterally “female” is very powerful, and it drives the central plot.

If you’d like to watch an offbeat foreign musical with a gay element, check out Yes Nurse! No Nurse!.

One of the musical numbers:

The movie’s trailer:

Overall Quality 3.5 / 5.0
Gay Content 5.0 / 5.0
Gay Positivity 4.0 / 5.0

Homosexuality has a largely unhappy history in Western civilization. Thank God for men like Magus Hirschfeld (1868 – 1935), who stood up against prevailing conventional “wisdom,” and used science and basic respect to advance the cause of gay rights. Hirschfeld studied homosexuality scientifically; although we might disagree with some of his conclusions (he felt homosexuals were an “intermediate” sex), he dedicated his efforts to advocate on behalf of gay people.

The Einstein of Sex is a biopic which explores Hirschfeld’s life and work. The film is surprisingly engrossing. It’s fast-paced and well-acted, and it’s fascinating to watch the tension between Hirschfeld’s tireless work on behalf of other gay people with his inability to process his own homosexuality in a healthy way.

The props, set design, and cinematography also deserve special mention, especially considering the film is a low-budget independent feature. Each component contributes significantly to the film’s interest and success, and many scenes look like recreated photos from that era.

The film contains quite a bit of male nudity, but it never feels out of place. In a couple of scenes it comes close to gratuitousness, but it never crosses the line.

Unfortunately, the narrative structure undercuts the movie’s effectiveness. It’s choppy, rambling, and disjointed. “The Einstein of Sex” tries to cover too much territory:

• a biography spanning Hirschfeld’s entire personal life
• an ode to Hirscfeld’s work on behalf of gay rights
• a pseudo-documentary on the state of gay rights during that era

But this is a single movie, not a mini-series. As a result, everything gets underserved.

So while this film hasn’t earned a top-shelf slot in my DVD collection, I definitely recommend it for at least one viewing. It’s an entertaining slice of important homo-history that’s undertold.

The Gay Positivity score reflects that this movie covers a lot of negative territory ranging from gay-shame to gay-hate, but the central focus in on telling the story of someone who worked positively for gay rights with a tone of hopefulness for the future.

———————

For more information about Magnus Hirschfeld:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magnus_Hirschfeld
http://www.stonewallsociety.com/famouspeople/magnus.htm

Overall 3.75 / 5.0
Gay Content 4.5 / 5.0
Gay Positivity 3.0 / 5.0

“Edge of Seventeen” is one of the better coming-out-and-coming-of-age tales. It is less saccharine and more poignant than many, and it benefits from a thoughtful script and a fantastic cast. Eric (Chris Stafford) is a high school junior who gets a summer job at an eatery at a local amusement park. There he meets Rod (Andrew Gabrych), with whom Eric shares his first romantic and sexual experience. The rest of the film follows Eric through his confused, convoluted path to greater self-awareness as he navigates the treacherous waters of sex and romance, friendship, and familial relationships.

The camera’s eye never flinches from Eric’s emotional roller-coaster, and his painful naïveté is completely engrossing. Stafford’s performance is spot-on, especially his nonverbal acting. He expresses hopefulness and devastation, cluelessness and realization, ecstasy and pain with amazing clarity and potency.

On the other hand, several sequences felt forced, particularly when he comes out to his mother. Yes, it’s powerful and affecting, but that scene derails the film from character-driven to plot-driven, which proves disconcerting enough that I disengaged from the characters.

The other actors also shine. Lea DeLaria, in particular, steals every scene. Her portrayal of Angie (the Wise Lesbian) borders on over-the-top, but the sheer energy and enthusiasm she brings to the role eclipses the other actors.

Tina Holmes’ performance as Eric’s best friend and sometime girlfriend Maggie is much more subdued and yet just as moving. It’s heart-breaking to watch Eric’s and Maggie’s relationship evolve through the twists and turns. Eric get so wrapped up in his own pain and fear, so desperately craving acceptance and affection, that he doesn’t see how every word tortures poor Maggie.

On my first viewing, several years ago, I identified so much more with Eric that, although I felt bad for Maggie, the tragedy of her situation didn’t really penetrate. She is an innocent victim of Eric’s confused identity, and Eric himself a victim of society’s inability to love its members unconditionally. The movie offers a subtle indictment of a culture that represses a subpopulation it doesn’t understand and fears to accept. Eric and Maggie are both victims to the same victimizer: socially ingrained, accepted homophobia.

As for the gay negativity, an awful lot of the drama proceeds from coming-out woes and, as mentioned, society’s homophobia. Other drama comes from some of the less savory elements of the gay community. My question is not so much whether Eric has emotionally matured by the end of the movie, but whether he’s been co-opted by the culture that sometimes causes as many problems as it answers. He finds a second home at a local gay bar run by Angie, but will he end up like one of the regulars, drunk and alone at the bar when last call is announced, eternally hoping for Mr. Right or at least Mr. Right Now? Will he manage to find the maturity and intimacy that Rod and another random trick (Jeff Fryer) were incapable of?

Angie is a figure who, while firmly enmeshed in the gay culture (she owns a local gay bar and serves the underage Eric alcohol), also manages to exceed the limitations of that culture in order to find enough wisdom to counsel Eric. She is part of the culture, but not a slave to it, and perhaps that’s the difference.

When I score for gay positivity, I ask myself if I consider the characters to be a inspiration for me, if I would like to have their lives as my own. Is the portrayal hopeful or melancholy? A story like Edge of Seventeen is powerful and meaningful. It contributes significantly to the gay film canon by memorializing what it’s like to grow up gay in a certain era and culture. But to answer my own questions, you couldn’t pay me to step into these characters’ lives (although I’d love to have Angie’s house). The ending is ambiguous regarding its positivity, but given the context of the rest of the film, I would tend to say it’s on the melancholy side.

As a side-note, I don’t feel much nostalgia for the ’80s, which is a little before my time. Nevertheless, the soundtrack perfectly complemented the movie and helped to create a gestalt effect that evoked the era more strongly than the clothing or hairstyles.

Original Title: Just une question d’amour

Overall Quality 4.0 / 5.0 (recommended)
Gay Content 4.5 / 5.0
Gay Positivity 2.5 / 5.0

University student Laurent (Cyrille Thouvenin) is terrified to come out to his parents. His cousin Marc came out to his own parents (Laurent’s aunt and uncle), who promptly kicked him out. Laurent’s parents, meanwhile, supported that decision. Laurent does not want to lose his parents, so he lives in the closet. In fact, he uses his best friend and roommate, Carole (Caroline Veyt), as a beard to deceive his parents.

So far, not very gay positive. We have the tired old story of the gay child in the closet, and we have parents who are rampantly anti-gay when it comes to their children (oddly, they seem amused by gay couples shopping for condoms at their pharmacy, but they resort to physical violence with their own flesh-and-blood). Laurent, for his part, is mostly okay with being gay. Except when it comes to his parents, and then he seems to feel deeply ashamed and disappointed in himself. He even tries to make himself straight for their benefit.

Yeah, it’s gay-positive-challenged.

Then Laurent meets the handsome Cédric (Stéphan Guérin-Tilli), for whom Laurent interns in the field of agronomy. Cédric’s mother Emma (Eva Darlan) is openly accepting of her son and tries to help Laurent’s parents to understand and accept their child. Cédric finds it difficult to accept Laurent’s closetedness and pushes Laurent to come out to his parents, causing their burgeoning relationship to splinter.

This made-for-TV French film is extremely well done, and the love story between Laurent and Cédric sweet to watch unfold. The two actors have real on-screen chemistry, and the movie does a great job of portraying their interactions realistically, from playfulness to passion to tenderness to tension. The acting is top-notch, and the story exceeds the scope of the clichéd coming-out tale with its involvement of Laurent’s best friend and Cédric’s mother. Laurent’s uncertainty about his sexuality is balanced by Cédric’s quiet confidence, and both characters offer the viewer enough depth and breadth that neither are stereotypes or caricatures.

I liked Gregg Araki’s “The Living End” for the first three-quarters, after which it lost me because the style abruptly changed.

At first, it comes across as theater of the absurd. Luke’s (Mike Dytri) encounter with the gun-wielding lesbians, followed by the wife with a knife, suggested the filmmakers were making a movie about the sheer absurdity of the things that happen in life. So much about life doesn’t make sense; we pretend it does, but really, it doesn’t. That resonated with me, and so I responded to the film.

But then the movie turned nihilistic, painting a bleak picture. All that waits for us is death (and sometimes not even that). Not so much my kind of movie.

The two main characters, Luke and Jon (Craig Gilmore), are HIV+ during the Reagan era. Faced by fatal injustice and disdain, they stop caring and follow their anger. Which takes them on a road trip.

As for the gay positivity, without really knowing how to read the movie (is it nihilistic? absurdist? am I missing the point?) it’s hard to put the portrayal of the main characters in perspective. They’re hardly role models. In fact, they embody a number of stereotypes. But they’re also well-rounded enough to avoid any clichés.

They strike me as a fantasy born out of anger about the injustice gay people face. Gay people die because straight people don’t care enough to make it stop. There’s just enough truth in that statement to make me pay attention.

If you like dark, edgy, independent movies, you might give this one a shot.

Okay, I have to admit it. I watched this movie because Lee Rumohr, who plays protagonist Troy, is hot. Totally hot. That’s the only reason. And having seen it, there’s no other reason to bother with it. (And dammit! The most skin we see of Rumohr are a couple of scenes in his underwear).

The basic story is sound, but the execution is weak. Troy (Rumohr) is a gay man who’s fallen in love with his slacker friend, Merrick (Matt Austin). Mr. Merrick, meanwhile, is a total closet case who willingly sleeps with Troy but refuses to kiss him or acknowledge their relationship publicly. Unrequited love can make for a powerful and universal story.

At any rate, I think that’s what the film is about. What’s happening isn’t at all clear until a third or so into the movie. Between a messy script and confused direction, it’s hard to follow what’s going on. A good script lays out the conflict and then carefully builds the story, building tension inch by inch. This script meanders and can’t make up its mind what it’s trying to say.

Meanwhile, the director seems to give the same direction to the actors in every scene: “Lee, you’re so fed up you’re emotionally dead in this scene. Matt, you act like a jerk.” Particularly in Rumohr’s case, while I usually prefer understated performances, he seems almost absent in the role. Between the script and inept direction, the actor doesn’t have much to go on. It’s unfortunate: assuming any of the actors are capable of a breakout performance, the film’s other weaknesses hobble them.

As a side-note, Rumohr also played a gay man named Troy in several episodes of Showtime’s “Queer As Folk.” QAF Troy, however, is not nearly so sympathetic as our forlorn romantic in “Denied.”

Regarding the gay positivity, this film’s portrayal is hard to read. Rather than a single Gay Positivity Score, I almost want to offer a range. The unfocused script makes it unclear if Troy is a proud gay man (he doesn’t seem to have any issues being or admitting he’s gay), or a furtive one (at the same time, he’s apparently not out to his friends, although he seems unconcerned at the prospect of being outed later in the film). I’ll say, though, that Troy’s relative comfort with his sexuality gives the film a solid, fairly gay positive foundation. Merrick, on the other hand, clearly has issues with same-sex intimacy. Sex is fine as long as it stays secret. But full-on romance? That’s just wrong. Other characters react badly. Fowler (Matthew Finlason), a friend of Troy’s from high school, doesn’t even want Troy to touch him. The film’s conclusion is a mixed bag, positivity-wise: it ends predictably regarding Troy’s and Merrick’s relationship, but it’s arguably a healthy development.

Overall, if Rumohr and/or Austin someday become major stars, this movie might make an interesting footnote in their early careers. Otherwise, skip it.

Early in the movie, Massimo (Andrea Renzi) dies in an unintentionally funny scene (I actually watched it twice), leaving behind both a devastated widow (Antonia, played by Margherita Buy) and a male lover (Michele, Stefano Accorsi). Antonia realizes Massimo was having an affair after going through his belongings, but doesn’t realize it’s a man until after she manages to meet him. Slowly, inch by inch, Antonia and Michele get to know each other, and Antonia finds she is an increasing part of a tight circle of friends (a family of choice) that was part of her husband’s other, secret life.

The Good

The acting was fantastic. It’s always a little hard to peg the acting on foreign films because I have to rely on subtitles, but in this case I found the characters to be fully formed, real people. In fact, the basic situation in the movie forces the actors, especially the principals, to move through a complex emotional obstacle course, and Margherita Buy and Stefano Accorsi convey the subtlety and complexity with aplomb. Similarly, the other actors breathe life into their characters.

Michele lives at the center of a tightly knit “family of choice,” and to a certain extent the family members seem scripted according to type. And yet, largely thanks to the actors as well as a thoughtful script, each of the characters come across as highly individualized. In fact, I greatly enjoyed the portrayal of this affectionate, supportive group. It’s much like a gay Italian version of “Friends.”

I also appreciate the themes raised by the movie. For example, the film explores the movement of people in and out of each other’s lives. This process can cause much grief, and yet it is a natural part of life. The viewer watches as Massimo’s death leads to Antonia growing into his secret family of choice. Similarly, Emir (Koray Candemir), an inveterate wanderer, drifts in and out of the group according to the schedule of his travels. One subplot has Mara (Lucrezia Valia), a transsexual, trying to decide whether to return to her family for a wedding. It would be the first time they would see her as a woman.

Another theme explores the idea of maintaining illusions in order to preserve love. Or, stated even more nakedly, telling lies to preserve love. Again, most people can resonate with this theme.

The Bad

Unfortunately, these themes, though interesting and thought-provoking, are undercooked. They go beneath the surface but only just. Consider, for example, the theme about preserving illusions to hold on to someone’s love. The film fails to explore this in greater depth. For example, I would argue love of self trumps love from others. I don’t mean narcissism but rather that it’s more important to have a healthy self-respect than to try to conform to other people’s standards just so they’ll like us. Mara is reluctant to return to her family, fearing rejection. But if she refuses to return (hypothetically; I won’t disclose whether she does or doesn’t in the movie), she’s rejecting herself on their behalf before they even have the opportunity. It’s as much about her relationship with herself as with her family. But these are my musings; the film raises the question but goes no further.

The editing of the film also left something to be desired. The movie drifts at points, and as the story progresses a tiresome repetition emerges (Antonia returns, leaves, returns, leaves). The film would have benefited from tighter editing. Frankly, the opening scenes showing Antonia and Massimo could easily have been deleted altogether.

The Strange

Michele’s and Antonia’s relationship stretched credulity. It’s a testament to the actors that they made their relationship engaging, even fascinating, and I can understand Antonia’s somewhat morbid fascination with her dead husband’s male lover. But their relationship takes some turns I never really understand and other turns that I found predictable. Watching their relationship evolve on screen, I wonder if the screenwriters (Ferzan Ozpetek, who also directed, and Gianni Romoli) were exploring a “what if” without really knowing what they were trying to say.

Also, I found the title a bit odd. The English title is “His Secret Life,” a pithy, descriptive, and inoffensive name. But the actual Italian title is “The Ignorant Fairies,” which I assume to be a play on words (not speaking Italian, I can’t be sure). This title raises a question for me. In fact, it’s Antonia who’s ignorant of Massimo’s relationship with Michele, not the other way around. So if the “fairy” (ahem) is ignorant, it must be in a more subtle way. How, then? The ending of the movie was hard to read, and rather than addressing the question, thumbed its nose at it.

Overall

On the surface, it’s an interesting film with thematically suggestive dialogue and imagery, and I liked following these characters as they dealt with the fallout from Massimo’s death. As such, the film made me want to go deeper into its messages, and yet when I tried to do so, found little there.