Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgendered Film and Video 5

By Rick Curnutte

Richard A. Curnutte, Jr. is the Editor of The Film Journal. He has studied English and Film at Ohio University and The Ohio State University. He is a founding member of the Central Ohio Film Critics Association and a member of the Online Film Critics Society.

Presented by Columbus' The Wexner Center for the Arts, the GLBT F/V 5 turned out to be a showcase some very effective contemporary gay-themed films.

Bruce Weber's freeform Chop Suey is equal parts fascinating character portrait and droll, self-serving manifesto. Essentially, Weber's 98 minute film is a collection of vignettes, seemingly designed for the sole purpose of letting people know what inspires him. Weber is a well-known fashion and figure photographer who decided to join together with his colleagues/friends and form the Chop Suey club, a group of photographers who would shoot roll after roll of film of Weber's newest discovery, a wrestler and model named Peter Johnson (that his name sounds like that of a porno king is underscored by Weber's repeated shots of Johnson romping on the beach nude and playing with dogs in the buff). With varying degrees of success, Weber's film jumps back and forth between film and video, with subjects as diverse as lounge singer Francis Faye, explorer Sir. Wilfred Thesinger, Robert Mitchum, Judo champ Rickson Gracie, Jan Michael Vincent, Robert Englund and Dorothea Lange. Of particular interest is Ms. Faye, a surprisingly out lesbian, especially considering the time period in which she enjoyed her celebrity (1950s and 1960s): at one point, she sings, "I'm Francis Faye, I'm gay gay gay, it's the only way." It's obvious how such a flamboyant performer as Faye could have inspired a young Weber to seek out new ways of self-expression. Unfortunately, Chop Suey ultimately folds under the weight of its own voracity. In sessions subtitled, "Studio Talks", Weber and friends pour over their personal collections of photographs, name-dropping such luminaries as Steichen, Evans, Larry Clark. To be sure, the works are often mesmerizing, but the whole affair winds up feeling weightless and empty.

One of the biggest problems with DV-cammed films is that many audiences don't take them seriously. At the showing of James Bolton's remarkable Eban and Charley, the crowd snickered at the film's no-budget visual quality, which is unfortunate, because they allowed their preference for high-gloss, all-frills movies get in the way of a remarkably executed adult drama. Eban and Charley focuses on 29-year-old Eban and his damning love for a 14-year-old boy named Charley. After first spotting the boy in a record shop, Eban begins looking for him all over town, where he has returned to live with his parents after losing his teaching job in Seattle. Eban and Charley's relationship is built on simple gestures and childlike courtship. Eban is fully aware of the potential consequences of his actions. He knows it is dangerous to be romantically involved with a teenager. But Charley's eagerness to further the relationship results in one of the most poignant "first-time" scenes in recent memory. All giggles and awkward gestures, Charley pecks at Eban's neck, hugs him tight. He is every bit the gangly youth discovering, for the first time, what it means to love. Bolton shows impressive restraint in Eban and Charley. He never goes for the "big" moments or the easy tears. The emotions here are uncomfortable, often intolerable, as when Eban's father calls him a pedophile, threatening to turn him into the police himself. But this moment is a tender one, a beautiful example of a father wanting to protect his son. Brent Fellows' Eban is skinny, not a forceful presence. Fellows graces him with expertly played pathos. But the real revelation is Giovanni Andrade, a blisteringly talented young actor, who displays all the determination and honesty of an adolescent Brando. Lest you scoff at the comparison, check out the moment when Charley faces his overbearing father, who has walked in on him writing a tearful poem for Eban. As the father rages at him, Andrade's Charley visibly shifts through each emotion of lost love: fear, anger, shame, grief, nostalgia. Finally shouting, "All I want is to be with Eban", his naked innocence is, finally, what makes this picture work so well.

Less a straightforward documentary than what the literary community has come to call "creative nonfiction", Escape to Life: The Erika and Klaus Mann Story" manages to whitewash what might possibly have been a moving portrait of two gay children of artists into a tired, formulaic rehash of Nazi regret and "poor me" solitude. Erika and Klaus, the children of German author Thomas Mann, were born two years apart and often passed as twins. They found art. They attempted to subvert Hitler through theater. Klaus joined the U.S Army. Erika married a man. Klaus wrote Mephisto, got sad, killed himself. Erika was sad about that. I don't intend to make light of the story of these two tortured souls, because it was certainly remarkable. But Escape to Life doesn't seem at all interested in really getting to know its subjects. Much is made about the fact that they are Mann's children, but there is next to nothing in the film itself about their relationship to the man. Directors Andrea Weiss and Wieland Speck instead fill the film with the same Nazi footage we've seen time and again, as well as choppily acted-out scenes from Erika and Klaus' works. They even go so far as to have two Brits, Vanessa and Corin Redgrave, perform the voice-over narration of the German Manns. The Manns obviously have wonderful stories to tell. I hope some day, someone does justice to those stories.

Mary Guzman's Desi's Looking for a New Girl, is a breezy, sweet comedy of romance (well, lack thereof) in San Francisco's Latino gay community. Desi (the surprisingly radiant Desi del Valle) has just been dumped by her love of four years...and dumped hard. For the rest of the film's swift 72 minutes, Desi's friends and family try to find her "the one". Unfortunately, nearly all of her blind dates are epic disasters (the neurotic who can't drink bagged tea, the socialite who seemingly can't stand gay people, the player at a night club who dances with Desi, and that girl and that girl...). Guzman's film is stagy and indulgent, an ongoing problem with new independents. Desi's underage friend, J.T., who loves her skateboard, Latino comedian Marga Gomez and Desi, speaks to the camera in a jarring first-person manner. Yesenia Aguirre, who plays J.T., is pleasant, but not enough of a comedic talent to sustain being our primary way into Desi's story. Nonetheless, Desi is a warm and funny picture, with an especially strong performance from del Valle and an equally strong supporting cast.

Produced by HBO Films, Cheryl Dunye's Stranger Inside is a powerful, heart-rending story of a young cast-off African American woman's journey to find her mother, by any means necessary. Treasure Lee (the electric Yolonda Ross) has forced her way to a maximum security prison because of a rumor that her birth mother is there. Upon arrival, Treasure finds herself thrust into the standard issue prison movie environment: "fresh fish" initiations, racial conflict, corrupt officers, etc. But once Treasure finds the woman she believes to be her mother, a lifer named Brownie, Stranger becomes a less obtuse study of prison life and molds itself into a poignant, though often jarring, tale of redemption. Treasure's destiny is not what she believes it to be (the film has a horrific twist at its end), but she does find a bit of what she was looking for. Dunye has a keen eye for the gritty subject matter, and she is helped by a truly amazing cast of female actors, including Ross, Rain Phoenix, Davenia McFadden, Patrice Fisher and Medusa, a Los Angeles-area underground rapper.