This film by Patrick Wang opened at Quad Cinemas last night with a pretty strong review from the NY Times. Check the review out here. There's not much I would add to Mr. Brunick's observations.
Leaving the theatre, Mr. Wang was standing shyly on the sidewalk, waiting to get some direct feedback about the film. Within minutes, Stone Phillips (who looks even better since he stopped coloring his hair) was leading the conversation among a group of us who had stopped to congratulate Mr. Wang, exploring some of his plot choices and inspirations.
As you'll see in the review, Mr. Wang hasn't had much success in his distribution efforts. The film runs a little long, but it's well worth seeing.
Check it out at the Quad before it closes next Thursday. Get tickets here.
Last night, Tony P. and I caught Weekend, the much-acclaimed* British film about two men who hook up at a club on a Friday night and spend much of the following weekend together working out whether they have something between them that deserves to continue. That decision is complicated by a plan that one of the two guys has made to move to Portland, Oregon, on Sunday.**
Russell, a lifeguard at a community pool, lives in council housing and grew up an orphan. He's out as a gay man to his close friends but isn't comfortable sharing details of his life with anyone, including his best mate, a straight man named Jamie who grew up with him in the same circumstances, in and out of foster homes. Glen, an aspiring artist, wears his queerness on his sleeve and rants about the larger heterosexual world's disgust with or disinterest in gay men's lives. Glen is insistent that he doesn't want a boyfriend; his fag hag, Jill, explains to Russell that Glen was hurt by an ex's serial cheating and dishonesty. In their first speaking scene together, Glen asks Russell to talk into a tape recorder about their sexual encounter the night before, explaining that it's for some vague art project he's working on. Later, Glen learns that Russell has been cataloging his own sexual encounters on his computer.
Last night I attended a screening of We Were Here, the new AIDS documentary by David Weissman. David is friend to many illustrious radical faeries I know, including Justin Vivian Bond, Covelo, Fannie Mae B. Free, Fussy Lo Mein, and Daisy Shaver, who were all in attendance. I also spotted NY Sen. Tom Duane, Mario Cantone, and tons of other celebrity-looking people whose names I should probably know. After co-directing the 2001 documentary The Cockettes with Bill Weber, it's not surprising that such a crowd would appear to view Mr. Weissman's new film, but this one especially because it's one of the first and deepest looks back at the AIDS crisis in San Francisco. I've never been so moved in a room filled with so many stars.
We Were Here takes a simple, spare approach. Mr. Weissman interviews five individuals who lived in San Francisco before AIDS struck and elicits their plague stories. A florist, a nurse, an activist, an artist, and a caregiver tell about those years and how their lives were changed. The interviews are set against a variety of still and moving archival images from the time.
The film is well served by by this minimalist approach. The audience develops an immediate affinity with each, and I'd venture a guess that most queer people will find a particular interviewee with whom they resonate. I was particularly drawn to Daniel, an artist who survived the very first drug trial, which study quickly killed every other participant (including his boyfriend), because he was a "wuss" who refused to tolerate the lethal side effects. Daniel's story of survival while caring for dying friends and lovers and founding a seminal, grassroots AIDS care organization is nothing short of stunning. I also found myself drawn to Eileen, a nurse at the first AIDS ward in San Francisco, and one of the first AIDS researchers, whose pragmatic approach to comfort and work to save lives is heroic.
But this isn't a movie about favorites. The director does an amazing job of integrating these stories and using them together to tell the broader story of the AIDS epidemic in the 80s and 90s. Of course I shed tears throughout much of the film. But I also shook with anger as I watched queers fight proposed laws that would have quarantined all AIDS patiets in California--not once but twice! I booed and shouted with ACT UP! members as they demanded adequate government response. The whole story is here, beautifully and terrifyingly brought to life with video footage and art from those times. And finally, the film brings these epic cultural events back to these five people who lived through them, and grounds us in the simple human feelings and failings that overwhelmed them. In so doing, the film becomes about more than AIDS; it is a hopeful prayer for all humanity, for all who suffer unimaginably and survive.
Please see this film. It premiers at the Angelika Film Center on September 9th. It is essential for every queer person and every loved one of every queer person. I cannot overstate the importance of keeping this recent history at the forefront of our social consciousness. I graduated high school in Kansas in 1994, and though I have heard hundreds of accounts from dear friends and partners who witnessed these times, never had I seen the whole arc so succinctly and intensely retold. Had I known, had I experienced this story in the visceral, total way that it is presented here, I might not now be living with HIV.
It means so much more than the success of a documentary. It could mean the health and happiness of a young queer person.
As the government threatened to shut down, as most of Northern Africa continued to go crazy, and as Japan got hit with another earthquake, our country experienced the loss of a different kind. On Saturday, April 9, Sidney Lumet, the first New York director, died in his Manhattan home. He was 86.
The Squeeze Boy and I caught I Love You Phillip Morris on New Year's Eve. I was motivated to see the movie partly out of a desire to send a tiny, $13 message to the executives in Big Hollywood that they were foolish to balk at distributing a gay-themed film with frank depictions of man-on-man sex. I ended up enjoying ILYPM quite a bit. It turned out to be a fun, touching, and genuinely sweet movie.
Jim Carrey plays Steven Russell, a con man and escape artist who falls hard for the title character, who's played by Ewan McGregor, when they meet in a prison library. Directors Glenn Ficarra and John Requa do a pretty good job of reining Carrey in and preventing him from turning Steven Russell into Edward Nygma. And Carrey and McGregor have believable onscreen chemistry. (Unfortunately, hunky McGregor doesn't show much skin even though he's prone to doing that.*)
Last night I attended the opening event of MIX 23 (mixnyc.org), the annual New York queer experimental film festival. This year's festival is being held at Theater for the New City, which is a venue that works very well for this event. After the jump I'll give a brief review of last night's festivities. I highly recommend checking out some or all of MIX's programs!
When I heard that the tale of Guido Contini was coming back to film, I was excited. Having seen the revival of Nine on Broadway in 2003 (even with the replacement cast), I had high hopes. With Rob Marshall at the helm, following his great success with "Chicago" in 2002, the potential was great.
Casting announcements were also pretty exciting - - Penelope Cruz, Nicole Kidman, Judi Dench, Marion Cotillard, Kate Hudson, Sophia Loren, even Fergie - - quite a starry production. I was skepticalat first when Daniel Day-Lewis was announced as Guido, but knowing his work in such a wide variety of characters, I thought he would be a pleasant surprise.
Over the last week I caught a number of different productions and films, and I know you are all just salivating with anticipation to hear my opinion on the merits of each.
I'm going to start with the movie Nine, which is probably the only review you'll care about because the rest are theater productions in New York City and one has already closed, so really, I almost shouldn't bother with the other two, but I will at some point because I can.
