GLENN ON FILM

I see a LOT of movies, I went to UCLA Film School. I've written/directed/produced a bunch of them like I DO, LEAVE IT ON THE FLOOR, EATING OUT: ALL YOU CAN EAT, LOST CAUSE, BOYCHICK, LEZ BE FRIENDS, CAMP MICHAEL JACKSON, LITTLE BFFs, and my latest, IF WE TOOK A HOLIDAY. I live and breathe film. My Mom used to take me to films way beyond my years and afterwards, we'd dissect them, like Frances McDormand did with her son in ALMOST FAMOUS. Thanks Mom!   I use a 5 STAR review rating, despite the fact that it's pretty cheesy.  Equally cheesy?  My review titles, but they're fun to come up with, so there!

[glenngaylord]

Oh, Pair! – Film Review: Twinless ★★★★1/2

James Sweeney made an auspicious feature filmmaking debut in 2019 with his snappy, dialogue-packed Straight Up. This hilarious and touching story of a gay man who decides he wants to date women out of sheer loneliness showcased a bold and original cinematic voice. He established a distinct visual style of negative space framing and surreal flourishes. Think Ida meets a less twee Wes Anderson film with a healthy dose of split screen. His sophomore effort, Twinless, shows a maturation of his talents by upgrading the droll, dry tone of his first with something deeply affecting and complex. His new film feels so much more mature, has a fascinating structure filled with its fair share of surprises, and also happens to be one of the year’s best pictures.

After a brief yet startling opening shot, we meet Dennis, played by Sweeney, and Roman (Dylan O’Brien) at a twins bereavement support group, where both detail the tragic loss of their brothers. Dennis and Roman, gay and straight respectively, strike up a deep and unusual friendship which carries us through the story. To say more would spoil the beautifully realized twists and turns of the plot. Suffice it to say, there’s much more going on than meets the eye. Exploring themes of obsession, betrayal and the ups and downs of a soul connection, Twinless has cleverness to spare, but emerges as something profound and heartbreaking.

Most of the credit goes to the two lead performances. Sweeney brings an off-kilter approach to his role, moving effortlessly between an endearing social awkwardness and a bitingly cruel sociopathy. It’s understandable that a grieving person like him can erratically bounce all around on that spectrum. O’Brien’s Roman, however, feels like an open wound with his visible pain and short fuse. Their instant connection has the strange brew feeling of bromance meets trauma bond. Roman’s late brother Rocky (also played by O’Brien) was gay and Dennis seems to fill the gap since his loss. With a structure containing flashbacks and a story which double backs on itself, we see each character in surprising new lights. O’Brien masterfully embodies the violent, lost Roman and the socially confident, flirty Rocky. O’Brien received a Special Jury prize for the role at Sundance earlier this year, and in a perfect world, a performance this great would get remembered during the upcoming awards season. He takes what could easily be perceived as a clever, millennial indie and makes you ache for his character. One scene in particular in which he role plays with Dennis astounded me with his ability to tap into Roman’s anger.

Supporting characters also shine, with Lauren Graham as Roman’s mother deftly navigating her own grief while trying to support her son. Tasha Smith, Susan Park and Chris Perfetti have small roles yet manage to make vivid, sometimes hilarious impressions. Aisling Franciosi, who has already shown her talent and range in such films as The Nightingale and Speak No Evil, gets the MVP award here with her turn as Marcie, one of Dennis’ co-workers. Seemingly all smiles and naïveté, her character progressively deepens to reveal a strong, smart woman underneath all that sunshine. I couldn’t believe how much I cared for her Marcie. In fact, all three leads invest their characters with such depth of feeling, they elevated material which already carries so much richness.

Special mention must also go to Cinematographer Greg Cotten, who could easily have opted for a handheld, cinéma vérité style but goes for a striking, expertly composed boldness instead. A long tracking shot of Dennis walking by several pairs of twins on the streets of Portland serves as one memorable example. I also really loved Composer Jung Jae-il’s score, a emotional, swirling soundscape reminiscent of Phillip Glass.

If I were to quibble, (and I will!), I would have preferred a little less mumbling from O’Brien. Two moments in particular took me out of the movie when I couldn’t understand him at all. Sweeney’s smart, rapid fire dialogue can seem overwhelming at times, but neither issue took away from my appreciation of this original and surprisingly heartfelt achievement. Take note that the opening credits don’t appear until twenty minutes into the movie as a testament to Sweeney’s sense of play and daring. I also love a filmmaker who knows how to stick the landing, and the final scene, especially the very last line of dialogue, proved to me that Sweeney values storytelling and knows how to deliver right up to the very end.

[glenngaylord]

Faster! More! Trash! Trash! – Film Review: Tura! ★★★

Nothing gives me more cinematic pleasure than when John Waters characters shout their lines. Every booming rant seems like something I’d never say myself, but wished that I had. Can you imagine Divine whispering, “If I don’t get those cha-cha heels for Christmas, Mom and Dad are dead”? It doesn’t work. It MUST be loud and grating.

So consider my joy in discovering the iconic filmmaker’s inspiration came from Russ Meyer’s Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! In particular, its star, Tura Satana, took a lack of subtlety to legendary heights. In her tight black catsuit and her way with karate chops, Satana, who never met a line of dialogue she couldn’t spit out through a clenched jaw, cemented her place in film history. Shot in gorgeous black and white, the film acts as part feminist revenge fantasy while also being about women with giant breasts. That was, frankly, Meyer’s brand. His movie works as a fantastic piece of filmmaking while also delivering action, sex appeal, and almost every other bit of genre juiciness.

Much like the recent, My Mom Jayne: A Film by Mariska Hargitay, Cody Jarrett’s documentary, Tura!, shows us the depth, the hidden talent, and the trauma of a Hollywood sex symbol. Come to think of it, the two films would make a great double feature at a drive-in movie theater. Both films excavate surprising depth from heretofore unexplored layers.

Narrated by queer icon, Margaret Cho, using Satana’s own words, the film introduces us to Tura as a young Japanese American girl in Postwar Chicago 1948. While walking home one night, five white men kidnapped, raped and left her for dead. This horrific experience, and her vow to seek revenge against her attackers, seemed to inform so many aspects of her life moving forward.

Rising through the ranks as a burlesque dancer where she was known as “Miss Japan Beautiful”, she soon came to Meyer’s attention, clearly born to play Varla in his 1965 exploitation flick. While initially a commercial and critical flop, time has elevated it and Satana to cult classic status. In particular, the VHS release of the film helped it gained rabid support from both the punk rock and the gay communities who savored every memorable line. Who can forget Varla’s response to a Gas Station Attendant extolling the virtues of seeing America while staring too long at her breasts? She snaps back with the immortal, “You won’t find it down there, Columbus!” An icon was born!

Through interviews with such experts as John Waters, Dita Von Teese, Joshua “Peaches Christ” Grannell, Kitten Natividad, Pamela Des Barres, the documentary paints a picture of a startlingly resilient and kind woman. She faced racism in America head on, not only from the government and society but even from her own mother, who taped her eyes open to look more white. It’s a harrowing portrayal which resulted in a woman with very thick skin. She may have been tough, but she also seemed to enjoy interacting with fans at conventions and her softer side comes through in the sweet interviews with her two daughters, Jade and Lani. Writer/Producer Eric C. Charmelo, in particular, offers up a lot of fresh and funny insight into the power of “bad” acting and Satana’s contributions to strong women in cinema.

At first I was a little taken aback by the somewhat slapdash quality of he sit-down interview framing, but, upon reflection, it felt in keeping with the trashy aesthetic at the heart of this film. I’m also not a fan of recreations in documentaries, but thankfully these were more abstract in nature here. I would have preferred that Jarrett dial back the repeated use of a crane shot of Satana as Varla walking through the desert, but, sure, it’s an amazing shot!

While the dissection of Faster, Pussycat! serves as the main attraction, the film’s weaving of Satana’s career, her struggles, and her immense strength together with her unapologetic sexuality demonstrates that feminism and lust can co-exist joyously. The stories of her relationships with Elvis Presley, Billy Wilder, Tony Curtis, and Tony Bennett may have been the first time I’ve ever watched a movie and stood up to say the words “Get it, Tura!” out loud.

If Tura! brings more eyeballs to Meyer’s masterpiece, then mission accomplished. John Waters didn’t say, “Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! is the best movie ever made, and possibly better than any movie that will ever be made” for nothing! The added bonus of our getting to know this woman, who sadly passed away in 2011, proves heartbreaking, funny, and inspiring.

[glenngaylord]

A Little Pain And Glory: Film Review - Before We Forget ★★★1/2

Where have you seen this one before? A grizzled, graying gay filmmaker fixates on a past relationship which prevents him from moving forward in present day. If Pedro Almodovar’s wonderful Pain And Glory comes to mind, you have just won the trivia contest, but not so fast, as Before We Forget, co-written and directed by Juan Pablo Di Pace and Andrés Pepe Estrada shares a lot of the same DNA. Think of it as Pain And Glory but without Almodovar’s trademark red, yellow and blue iconography yet with its own unique perspective on love and memories.

When we first meet Mathias (Di Pace also stars as the adult version of the character), he struggles to finish an obviously deeply personal film. After he completes his final shot, he insists to his Producer that they forgot a physical bit of business and need one more take. Pushing back, the Producer coerces Mathias into calling it a wrap on the production, but we know this decision will haunt our protagonist. You can see the hurt in his eyes, the first indication that Di Pace has a knack for delivering a quietly naked, emotional performance.

As Mathias delays completion of his edit, we flash back to 1997 at an Italian boarding school where Young Mathias (Santiago Madrussan) arrives from Argentina and immediately immerses himself in the crazy, theater geek atmosphere of fellow students hugging and befriending each other a bit too quickly. He soon encounters Alexander (Oscar Morgan), a Swedish lad with wild charisma and dramatic flair. Inseparable almost immediately, Mathias falls hard for his new pal, but it remains unclear if Alexander feels the same. The push-pull chemistry between this pair of actors feels palpable, both delivering highly accomplished, heartbreaking performances. When an incident forces Alexander out of the school, Mathias feels lost at sea.

Relief, however, comes when Mathias receives an invitation to join Alexander and his family at Christmas time, along with Mathias’ parents (vividly portrayed by Araceli González and Fabián Mazzei, spouses in real life as well). With the family dynamics and the addition of Alexander’s beautiful sister Kathrine (Julia Bender), Mathias retreats to the closet and outwardly shows interest in Kathrine. This creates a rift between the young men, one which will remain possibly for the rest of their lives. The themes of unrequited love and hiding your true self resonate deeply in this film, helped immeasurably by Madrussan’s access to the pain his character experiences. So much goes unspoken, including a devastating scene of Mathias in his parent’s car as they pull away from their visit.

Di Pace and Estrada have a gift for visually conveying so much, including the keen watchfulness of González, Mazzei, and Sarah Parish as Alexander’s mother. When parents of queer children state they always knew, this film does an excellent job of showing us just that. Shot with clear precision by Cinematographer Devin Doyle, the film never loses sight of our main characters’ feelings. The flashbacks in particular have a heady rush to them, supported so well by the over-the-top-energy of young students.

In the present day, intercut throughout with the past, Mathias continues to struggle with his memories and how they affect his ability to finish his own story. It all leads to an event guaranteed to open old wounds. Partially based on Di Pace’s personal experiences, this movie for some may feel like a therapeutic exercise in which filmmaker makes a film about a filmmaker trying to work through childhood issues. On the surface, this may seem trite, especially when the actual plot of the film doesn’t tell us anything new. This isn’t the first portrayal of a gay guy navigating a crush, but the story doesn’t go the expected route. So much remains unresolved, yet that’s the point. Your mileage may vary in deciding if such decisions satisfy or not.

For me, the movie works because the filmmakers want to challenge our relationship to our own memories. Di Pace really shines in the final moments with a mature and gorgeous monologue in which he directly confronts his past and opens the gates for what lies ahead. Di Pace has a compelling presence, transparent yet never pushing things too hard. He has such promise as an actor and filmmaker.

If I were to nitpick, and I will (!), I would have liked to have known more about how the act of filmmaking itself impacted Mathias’ artistic choices and his emotional well-being. While it doesn’t go as deep as Almodovar’s masterwork, Before We Forget remains a striking debut for the filmmakers. What it lacks in a certain sexiness (calling this movie chaste would be an understatement), it more than makes up for that with something new to say about the way the human mind works to distort or misinterpret the past in order to feel at peace.

[glenngaylord]

Give Them Some Slack – Film Review: Rent Free ★★★1/2

schnook: noun - informal - def: a person easily duped, a fool - “Don’t be a schnook! It’s a scam!”

I love comedies about schnooks. From the intrepid duo at the heart of American Movie, Beavis And Butt-head, Dumb And Dumber and Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure, I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for goofballs making their way in the world. I also love Richard Linklater’s films, especially those set in Austin, Texas, such as Dazed And Confused, Boyhood, and Slacker. Consider it catnip for me when a friend suggested Rent Free to me, a wonderfully schnookie movie set in Austin, Texas, and made in the style of Linklater. Oh! It’s also gay as f*ck! Call it the Queer Slacker!

The film, directed by Fernando Andrés (Three Headed Beast) from a script co-written by Tyler Rugh, follows Ben (Jacob Roberts), a short fused, gay Gen-Z’er, who squats at a friend’s apartment in Manhattan while entertaining his best friend Jordan (David Treviño), a bisexual sad puppy who’s visiting from Austin. With both strapped for cash and Jordan’s visit coming to an end, Ben suggests they spend their last day together touring the city without spending a dime. When Ben gets caught in a compromising position with his host, he’s left with little alternative but to return to Austin with Jordan. Short on prospects and that day-long experiment in frugality under their belt, they agree to extend it by living rent free for an entire year. What could possibly go wrong?

Like Slacker, the film employs a shaggy, episodic structure, moving from one unstable housing situation and low-paying job to another. At first, they move in with Jordan’s girlfriend, Anna (Molly Edelman), but when she ends their relationship, our BFFs move in with a large group of friends where chaos is a perennial menu item. It’s not long before they find themselves relying on one night stands, their car, and at one point with Jordan’s father (an excellent Bill Wise) and his two brothers. One of my favorite interludes has Ben and Jordan staying with Neil (Neal Mulani) and Gio (Carson Barwinkel), perhaps the world’s most toxic gay couple ever! Mulani nearly steals the entire film as the dom, hyper-controlling twink to Barwinkel’s hunky, obedient labrador. The film’s easy way with sex and sexuality (code for: unapologetically queer), allows our characters to be equal parts horny and clumsy in a believably frank way.

Through it all, Ben and Jordan fight, lean on each other, and go their separate ways, but somehow always find their way back to each other. It’s a lovely look at the power of friendship in this tough, gig economy. While both actors do excellent work, Roberts really breaks out with his unpredictable, hot-tempered portrayal of a guy who can’t seem to get out of his own way. What a tricky high wire act Roberts has in navigating a character who somehow remains lovable despite his immature jerk of a personality.

Acting as his own Cinematographer and Editor, Andrés keeps things low key and grounded, yet he shows a real knack for framing and for shooting big clusters of people in small rooms. Like Linklater, he fills out his cast with non-actors, utilizing them to add a delightful naturalism. Still, his showmanship as a storyteller really shines with every outburst, every bad decision, every “Why me?!!” coming from Roberts.

Sly, unpretentious, and expert at weaving current issue into a modest narrative, the film feels like a breath of fresh air in a landscape littered with “important” or “tentpole” offerings. Though small by design, Rent Free feels big in the ways that count.

Rent Free is available on VOD starting June 27th.

[glenngaylord]

Huh? – Film Review: I Don’t Understand You ★★

I love dark comedies and big swings. They’re among my favorite movie flavors. With such titles as Dr. Strangelove, Heathers, War Of The Roses, and Fargo offering us peak form, I found myself studying their mastery of tone and ability to somehow make us care about a gallery of unsavory characters. It’s an exceedingly fine line to walk. Kathleen Turner’s Beverly Sutphin in Serial Mom, for example, may kill off her entire neighborhood, but we relate to her because her victims refuse to recycle their garbage or rewind their VHS rentals.

In their new comedy/horror hybrid, I Don’t Understand You, filmmakers David Joseph Craig and Brian Crano aim high, but for me, lose the thread by featuring two leads impossible to root for or even comprehend. A married couple who partially based the story on their real life experiences, Craig and Crano start with a great concept. Dom (Nick Kroll) and Cole (Andrew Rannells), a couple on the verge of adopting a baby from a surrogate named Candace (Amanda Seyfried), head off to Italy for a “babymoon” before their lives change forever. After some bad weather, shoddy directions, and missed communications due to language barriers, things get scary and eventually murderous for our expectant couple.

When we first meet Dom and Cole, this affluent LA couple nervously awaits a Zoom interview with Candice. You can tell they question their own viability as parents, but the strength of their bond helps them overcome such doubts. Rannells and Kroll have a wonderful, easy chemistry, both tamping down their usually manic characterizations in favor of something grounded and real. After winning Candice over, they head off to Italy to cherish the time before their family expands.

So far, so good, right? Sure, but for me, the cracks began to show in the subtlest of ways the minute they board that jet. When they enter the Business Class section, I immediately clocked that they had opted for an older plane, the kind without lie-flat seats. I know I’m nitpicking, but stick with me for a sec, ok? Two bougie LA gay guys would NEVER fly for almost 12 hours from LA to Rome without being able to go fully horizontal! While not a dealbreaker, this tiny detail came close to taking me out of the movie. Now, in reality, I’m sure this film had a limited budget and the fuselage they used was perhaps their most affordable option. If that was the case, however, I would have established them as less financially stable or at least have them make mention of this aging plane. Already, my antennae were up and poised for credibility issues. No matter the genre, the characters still need to feel believable, and I felt torn about this throughout. One minute our main couple come across as warm, even heartfelt and the next they’re monstrous sociopaths.

If the premise for this film is that gay people are horrible, then mission accomplished. Your mileage may vary depending on your tolerance for people making bad decisions or if you require such things as logic, reason, and consequences. Some will love that this movie goes to some very dark places, but I just didn’t see the point of it all. It feels like Craig and Crano had a series of nightmares in Italy but didn’t trust their story to be interesting enough and embellished it with a lot of knives and blood. Had they stuck closer to the actual events, this could have been a gay version of the great Neil Simon/Arthur Hiller film, The Out Of Towners (the original from 1970 with Jack Lemmon and Sandy Dennis, not the horrible 1999 remake with Steve Martin and Goldie Hawn). As it stands, we have a structurally lopsided film in which the action takes the better part of an hour to get going. When it finally does, we’re fed frustrating language barrier scenarios which could have easily been resolved with a Google translator or pantomiming or heck, I don’t know, how about drawing pictures?

Still, the film serves as a good showcase for Rannells’ and Kroll’s range. I also thought Morgan Spector served up a super sexy performance as the son of an Innkeeper with a possibly dangerous streak. Amanda Seyfried literally phones in hers, but does deliver some sweet vulnerability. So it’s not a total loss, and when things escalate, you may like the wild ride.

Throughout, Dom and Cole wonder if they’ll make good parents. Some may think so because they fiercely have each others’ backs, but, personally, I wanted to place an emergency call to Child Protective Services. Because the filmmakers ultimately opt for sincerity, we’re left without a truly satirical point of view. It left me yelling at the screen, “I don’t understand you!”

[glenngaylord]

Mmmm Documentary-y! – Film Review: Pee-Wee As Himself ★★★★

“I was born in 1938 in a little house on the edge of the Mississippi River. My father worked on a steamboat. His name was Steamboat Milton.”

So begins Paul Reubens at the start of Matt Wolf’s remarkable documentary Pee-Wee As Himself, placing himself squarely in the role of unreliable narrator to his own life story. Unbeknownst to the filmmakers at the time of production, Reubens was fighting cancer, which he would sadly succumb to in July 2023 at the age of 70. With Reubens aware of his deteriorating condition, it lends an aching urgency to his need to tell his story in his own way.

Yes, this could easily have served as a legacy documentary of a remarkable career, but that approach would have done a huge disservice to his artistry and passions. I remember being so jealous of young children when Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure and his subsequent Saturday morning series, Pee-Wee’s Playhouse, debuted in the 1980s. I would have killed to have experienced such queer-coded entertainment at such an early age. My young weirdo self would have felt seen in such innuendo-laden moments as when Laurence Fishburne’s Cowboy Curtis said, “Well, you know what they say. Big boots! Big feet!” John Paragon’s Jambi unmistakably spoke “Queen”. My gay little head would have surged with joy. Those lucky, lucky children who got to experience that so early in their lives.

Despite his breaking out into the mainstream, Reubens, at his core, identified as a performance artist. While we still get a cradle to grave look at his life, Wolf honors him by giving the film a dreamy quality, which Reubens requested. Wolf combines interviews with plenty of archival footage such as clips from Our Gang and Captain Kangaroo to illustrate what inspired him. Wolf valiantly and painstakingly tries to give us the real Paul beneath his many masks. His characterizations effectively hid his own persona from the public, getting us to accept his alter egos, such as his signature man-child, Pee-Wee Herman, as completely real. He would even appear on talk shows as Pee-Wee, almost never letting us see his true self.

As such, this project offers up the hugely relatable concept that all of us would love to control our own narrative. Clearly uncomfortable entrusting another filmmaker to shape it. Reubens seems sometimes combative and sometimes needling Wolf, who he didn’t necessarily respect or trust, at least at the outset. Looking directly into camera throughout, Reubens makes the viewer question the veracity of everything he says. I wouldn’t want this any other way. The template for biographical docs gets elevated as a result.

Even if Wolf had served up a straightforward documentary, I’d still find Reubens’ life fascinating, touching, heartbreaking, and sometimes surprising. While he initially wanted to participate in the film in order to officially come out as gay, we get so much more. We learn that Reubens got some of his classic Pee-Wee lines from an early boyfriend. I don’t think I’ll ever hear, “Mmmmm! Chocolate-y!” again without a little ache in my heart. Despite living a fairly open life in college, including dressing in drag, Reubens’ chose to go back in the closet in order to achieve career success. Featuring a plethora of interviews with family, colleagues and friends such as his queer sister Abby, Debi Mazar, and the late Lynne “Miss Yvonne” Stewart, we get a picture of a loyal but sometimes petty person. The end of his friendship with the late Phil Hartman, for example, seemed particularly cruel, especially the way in which Reubens dismisses someone so integral to his early successes. Clearly a complicated person, we witness his love of gardening but also his obvious hoarder tendencies. Perhaps Reubens never wanted to burst that show biz bubble. He presented a fantasy, instead of allowing us to see that he was just like anybody else, a fallible human being. He wanted to put a little joy in our lives, and ugly truths would just get in the way.

With that in mind, the film does cover his 1991 arrest in a Sarasota adult movie theater and later a dropped 2002 investigation into his alleged possession of child pornography. Most of this gets covered by other people or with archival footage since Reubens never sat with Wolf for a final interview. It’s a sad way to conclude this partnership, but it serves to give the documentary an extra layer of complexity. These events clearly had a deleterious effect on Reubens’ life and career, dimming his light for a period of time. His glorious comeback with his live show and hilarious Pee-Wee’s Big Holiday film went a long way towards restoring him to his former glory. I felt lucky to have seen the stage production and in a talkback afterwards, Reubens, as himself, was warm and generous with the audience. He truly wanted to know what worked and what didn’t about the show, down to comic timing, lighting cues, everything. I saw a man who really cared about his craft and one who sincerely craved feedback. It was a rare window into his world that I will treasure always.

It led me to question the concept of fame and what a celebrity owes to the public. Sure, we get many interesting details about his life and how his queerness contributed to his art, but what really elevates this film and what may be Paul Reubens’ lasting legacy is that he turned the camera around on us to grapple with our insatiable appetite for celebrity gossip. Taking that a step further, it forces us to question if we can ever really know somebody or how important that is in the long run. Wasn’t it enough that he twirled tape around his face and ate ice cream soup? Isn’t it incredible that whenever we feel down, we can click a few buttons to hear Pee-Wee’s signature laugh?

Despite over 40 hours of interviews, Wolf never formally completed his discussions with Reubens. He stopped cooperating with production, fearing his loss of control would rear its ugly head in the editing room. It leaves an aching gap in the proceedings, one filled, however, with a true gut punch right towards the end. I couldn’t stop crying. I’m crying as I write this, to be honest. We are all, to paraphrase Pee-Wee, “the luckiest boys in the world” to have had Paul Reubens around.

[glenngaylord]

Lincoln’s Log – Film Review: Lavender Men ★★★★

I know, I know, my review title is crass and probably a little inappropriate, but I’m frustrated at the moment and will take sexual innuendo any way I can. It’s hard out there for us singletons. I’ve often said that I’ve never felt more alone than when in a roomful of other gay men. I’m willing to bet there are others, like me, who have felt invisible at a bar, a dance party, or even a Pride event. I have observed what it looks like when people show interest in each other enough to know when it hasn’t come my way. I’ve found myself on the outside looking in on more occasions than I care to count. I know I probably need therapy or at least a quality Self-Esteem Building class, but in the meantime, I feel justified in being all up in my feelings from time to time and in making groan-worthy puns.

Apologies in advance to the filmmakers, but it is this mindset I found myself in while watching Lavender Men, the sweet, probing film from director Lovell Holder and co-written by Roger Q. Mason, who also stars. Based on a theatrical production the pair created, Mason plays Taffeta, a non-binary person of color, who stage manages a stodgy play about Abraham Lincoln. With a cast who treat Taffeta as a person who merely washes their clothes, or worse in the case of an actor who abuses them, Taffeta doesn’t feel seen or appreciated. Complicating things, Taffeta has an unrequited crush on the show’s director and fails in their attempt to connect with a sexy audience member they see on a dating app. With so many soul-crushing moments in succession, it’s no wonder when Taffeta finds themself alone in the theater, they long for a different world.

Playing a chandelier, Mary Todd Lincoln, a tree, and other assorted objects and characters, Taffeta fantasizes about a love affair between Lincoln and a young legal clerk named Elmer Ellsworth, who in reality was the first casualty in the Civil War. There has been speculation for some time that he and Lincoln shared much more than a deep friendship. Assigned to do more research on Lincoln by the show’s director, Taffeta puts together the pieces of this secret love story.

Mason brings a lovely vulnerability to their role yet has the snap, bite, and vocal resemblance to Wanda Sykes. It’s tough to simultaneously navigate bravado and a crumbling sense of self, but Mason does so beautifully. For most of the running time, Taffeta has a front row seat to Abe (Pete Ploszek, a standout in Season 5 of You) and Elmer’s (Alex Esola) growing attraction for each other. As their relationship deepens, it only serves to remind Taffeta of their inability to connect with others.

As such, what appears to be a film about someone who may have been our first gay President, evolves into a story of a fierce, brave yet lonely and ostracized soul who goes on a journey to find their voice and insert themself into the center of their own story. Ploszek and Esola do fine work and have good chemistry as the inch their way towards each other. It helps that both actors originated their roles in the stage version.

Instead of opening up the play, Holder remains true to the show’s theatrical roots, yet finds a way to make it cinematic nevertheless. Holder gets great help from cinematographer Matthew Plaxco, who despite the obvious low budget, has a knack for lighting and framing. The film may be mostly stagebound but it’s not stagey. Through some well-executed and brief flashbacks, we empathize more and more with Taffeta. It’s a wonderful surprise considering this story traffics in issues of identity better suited for a student’s Masters Thesis than a piece of cinema. That they pull it off as we tag along, hoping our protagonist can emerge from the darkness, is no small feat.

If I were to nitpick, and let’s face it, I’m gonna, I’ll admit that this material may feel too much like a dissertation for some. Plus, the final moments, however moving and inspiring, end on a bumper sticker piece of dialogue instead of something a little more character specific. It’s ok, though. It still gets its point across. So the next time I find myself stuck in a corner somewhere, I’m gonna look for a Taffeta. We’ll have a good time instead of obsessing over the Abe’s and Elmer’s in the middle of the floor.

[glenngaylord]

Nicely Arranged – Film Review: A Nice Indian Boy ★★★★

Nicely Arranged - Film Review: A Nice Indian Boy ★★★★

Really good romantic comedies have had a tough time melting my cold, dead heart as of late. For me, the formula wore thin right around the time Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan started exchanging those pesky e-mails. Despite a resurgence in the past couple of years with such films as Anyone But You and Hit Man (Jesus! Glen Powell, slow your roll, ok?), so many have come across as too formulaic and sorely lacking in subtlety. Enter the beautifully quiet A Nice Indian Boy to reinvigorate the genre and make me fall in love with love once again.

Directed by Roshan Sethi and written by Eric Randall based on the play by Madhuri Shekar, the film tells the story of Naveen Gavaskar (Karan Soni), a gentle, awkward doctor who spends his spare time leaving awkward voicemails for guys he’s dated in the past. Although out to his liberal Indian family, which includes his mother Megha (Zarna Garg), father Archit (Harish Patel) and sister Arundhathi (Sunita Mani), the environment has never felt conducive to open discussions of his sexual orientation. Bringing home a boyfriend, for example, has always felt like a non-starter for Naveen.

Of course, all of that changes when he poses for his work pic one day and meets Jay Kurundkar (Jonathan Groff) the photographer who instantly takes a liking to him. They meet again at temple, which sparks Naveen’s interest more, and they agree to go on a date. Adopted by Indian parents and fluent in Hindi, Jay outwardly overflows with emotion in a way Naveen does not. After a night at the movies, a popular Bollywood production nicknamed DDLJ, Jay communicates his desire for a “big love” and in one of my favorite moments, sings to Naveen right there on the sidewalk. It’s a delightfully cringe moment which sends Naveen running as far away from Jay as possible. When he reports back to his gay bff Paul (a very funny Peter S. Kim), he realizes he may have walked away from a good thing. One deft montage later, and voilà…Naveen and Jay are engaged.

Now Naveen has little choice but to finally introduce a guy to his family. That it doesn’t go well should surprise no one who has ever seen a rom-com. Adhering to almost every formula ever established for the genre, our leads must remain apart until some big romantic gesture in the third act leads to a lifetime of confetti showers and kisses. While A Nice Indian Boy swims in such tropes, what sets it apart is its hushed tone and astute window into genuine emotion.

We not only experience the push and pull of our main relationship, but the story give plenty of real estate to Naveen’s family. His sister takes part in an arranged marriage and feels shut out by the attention Naveen seems to get. Mani, who has given terrific performances in Glow, and Save Yourselves shines here as a quietly suffering sibling. Their parents, while kind and loving, struggle to give either child the support they need. It’s not that they don’t try. I defy you not to fall in love with them when they sit down to view For The Love Of DILFS and exclaim, “We watch this gay TV for you!” Garg and Patel lend wonderful support in the film, giving us fully fleshed-out characters with hopes and dreams far beyond the well-being of their children. Because of their generous spirits, I wept quietly through the end credits before feeling back to normal enough to get out of my seat.

Now, I’ll admit, I’m not the world’s biggest Jonathan Groff fan. I enjoyed his wackadoodle cameo in Hamilton, but more often than not, there’s an earnest blandness to his performances which feels like the B.R.A.T. diet of film acting to me. It’s the same here, yet he commits so fully to it, you can’t help but love him. It’s as if he knows he’s a little milquetoast and allows it to get a little weird for our viewing pleasure. Karan Soni, however, has such an understated presence, such gentle comic timing, he forces you to lean in and really see him on his own terms. You’ll never catch this character marching into a pricey department store and shouting, “Big mistake. Big. Huge!” Instead, we see the world through his soulful eyes. What easily could have been a by-the-numbers romance gets elevated by his sweet warmth. This kind story gets tremendous support from Cinematographer Amy Vincent, Costume Designer Florence Barrett and Production Designer Liz Bischof. Though clearly made on a small budget, they create a world of intuitive framing, vibrant colors, and rooms swathed gorgeously by rays of light. By staying true to the kindness at its core, the filmmakers have given us a story of true tenderness.

[glenngaylord]

Mellow Travelers – Film Review: On Swift Horses ★★★

I’ve often wondered what people really mean saying, “They don’t make movies like they used to”. Are they talking about the scripts, directing, cinematography, subject matter, overall tone or something else? When I look back on films from the 1940s, for example, I often experience empty sound editing, flat staging, and tin-eared dialogue. In the 1970s, many films had a singular, renegade quality in that age of the auteurs, but even then, there were plenty of juvenile, dumb films. So what really were the good old days? I ask this, because I suspect many who see Daniel Minahan’s new film, On Swift Horses, will categorize it as one of those films they just don’t make anymore, a film that feels like it’s from that Golden Age of Cinema, whatever that means.

This sprawling movie, set in the Western U.S. of the 1950’s and written by Bryce Kass, based on Shannon Pufahl’s novel, hits so many classic beats. Lush cinematography! Sweeping emotions! Forbidden love! One can easily see the comparisons to a Douglas Sirk melodrama albeit with twin queer storylines. While I enjoyed getting caught up in the story, I couldn’t escape the feeling that despite its attempt to emulate a classic filmmaking style, it was missing something.

One need only look to Minahan’s prior work producing and directing the TV miniseries, Fellow Travelers, to understand the shortcomings at the heart of On Swift Horses. Fellow Travelers told a queer 1950s story as well, but with the distinction of setting it firmly within the oppressive Red Scare, aka the McCarthy Era, including depictions of the reprehensible Senator Joseph McCarthy and his monstrous lawyer, Roy Cohn. Without this backdrop, I wonder if the series would have lacked a little bite. While beautifully directed and performed, without the historical context, Fellow Travelers may have felt like a moving love story, nothing more, nothing less.

In On Swift Horses, Daisy Edgar-Jones (Twisters, Normal People, Where The Crawdads Sing) stars as Muriel, who lives a simple life with her husband Lee (Will Poulter from The Bear and Warfare), who has returned from the Korean War. When they move from Kansas to a house in San Diego, Lee invites his younger brother Julius (Euphoria’s Jacob Elordi) to join them. Julius, however, has other plans. An enigmatic sort with a criminal past as a card shark, he takes a detour to Las Vegas to get a legitimate job working security at a casino. Here he meets and falls for his co-worker, Henry (Diego Calva), embarking on a steamy affair behind closed doors.

Meanwhile, Muriel, who dresses the part of your typical 1950’s housewife, grows restless in her new home and sets out in two directions, both interesting parallels to her brother-in-law’s life. First, she becomes addicted to gambling at the horse track, stashing her earnings behind a painting. Second, she meets Sandra (Sasha Calle), a very “tomboyish” neighbor who woos her with olives and an acoustic guitar (not kidding!). Their love story leaves husband Lee in the Michelle Williams /Anne Hathaway position from Brokeback Mountain, including a well-delivered monologue detailing his crumbling marriage.

Despite the rich subject matter, the film feels a tad undercooked. Jones and Elordi do fine surface work, but their performances lack a little passion. While both have proven their talents elsewhere, here they seem a little stuck, with the excellent costumes and the production design doing most of the heavy lifting. Some of their best scenes, however, occur when they’re together rather than with their romantic partners. Fortunately, it’s this platonic relationship which sets the film apart. Two like-minded people who see each other when they both have to hide that part of themselves from the rest of the world,

The supporting cast fares much better with Calva, following up his soulful work in Babylon, delivering a charismatic, unpredictable, and carnal character. Calva gives us a live wire, while Elordi looks bored. He does bring some heat during a sex scene with Calva, but he’s required to do more James Dean posing than actual sizzling. On the plus side, Calle also proves a commanding, earthy presence with a slow-burning fire behind her beautifully squinting eyes.

Still, On Swift Horses depicts a unique, rarely seen bond between a queer man and woman during a time when people lacked the language and the safety to openly live their lives. The film gets its best mileage inside a clandestine San Diego gay bar which Muriel frequents. Although risking police raids, this public space feels like freedom compared to most places our characters interact. A late reveal here packs a punch, but the moment would have benefited from a little more context. We end up with a well told saga which leans more towards melodrama rather than a gritty look at hidden queer lives. That this film favors romance gets underscored by a literal horseback ride into the sunset. They don’t make them like they used to, eh?

[glenngaylord]

Who Will Buy This Beautiful Musical? - Theatre Review: Why Am I So Single? ★★★★½

All of the great musicals I’ve seen have what I like to call “lift”. Call it a key change, increase in tempo, clever word play, or a simple crescendo, but it’s that you’ll-know-it-when-you-feel-it burst of energy almost willing you out of your seat. I knew Toby Marlow and Lucy Moss, the creators of Six, had the gift of lift as soon as I heard that show's first big number, the Beyoncé -esque jam, “No Way”. A big key change, stomping beat and vocals pushed to their limits brought the crowd to its feet. It’s no wonder the show won the Tony for Best Original Score. How does one follow up such an international juggernaut as this?

Faced with that high pressure dilemma, Moss and Marlow went on a writing retreat in Connecticut and sat around discussing their personal lives, wondering like so many others, why they couldn’t find romantic partners. From this they birthed their self-described "big fancy musical", Why Am I So Single?, which opened at the Garrick Theatre in London on September 12, 2024 and is sadly closing early on January 19, 2025. As someone lucky enough to have caught the show, I can’t recommend highly enough that you book a ticket to the West End ASAP for this perfectly imperfect but hugely entertaining show. The lift is real!

The most meta of meta-musicals and loosely based on the creators’ own lives, the show tells the story of Oliver (Jo Foster) and Nancy (Leesa Tulley), two best friends and playwrights hanging out one night lamenting their single status and feeling the pressure to craft a follow-up to their previously successful musical. They seek out advice from their friend Artie (Noah Thomas) as they face a large and talented ensemble, who play everything from bad dates and baristas, to actual pieces of their furniture. It’s no surprise that Oliver! is their favorite musical with characters named after those from it and certain numbers mirroring its story. Although having a more traditional structure and presentation than Six, which told the story of the wives of Henry VIII as if it were a pop concert/singing competition show, Why Am I So Single? feels so fresh and current. Utilizing texts, social media and enough Millennial and Gen-Z lingo to make you exclaim, “This def slaps, no cap!”

And wow, those songs! Filled to the brim with bangers and heart-tugging ballads, Marlow and Moss have created one thrilling set piece after another. To date, four have been released, so watch them on YouTube or listen wherever you stream music. The title song, a more standard Broadway show tune features the hilarious couplet, “We are well read / Good at giving…advice”. “8 Dates”, a club banger of a patter song in which Oliver details a string of cancelled hookups and ends with a laugh out loud reference to Chicago’s “Cell Block Tango” has the most in-your-face, hip-shaking move in musical theatre history. My favorite number, “C U Never” a raise the roof tap sequence, has Artie giving Nancy the tools needed to stop obsessing over her ex. With its syncopated stop/start rhythms, superb harmonies, and “Consider Yourself” energy, it instantly earwormed into my brain. In my own personal life, I have sent this song to any flake or ghost who crosses my path. We also get a gorgeous 11 o’clock number, “Just In Case”, where Nancy says she’ll drop everything to be with the one that got away. Highly reminiscent of “As Long As He Needs Me” from Oliver!, Leesa Tulley got me ugly crying with her piercingly beautiful vocals and cute-as-hell Scottish accent. There are many more where these songs come from, with Foster embodying a disco ball, the ensemble chasing a bee in their flat, or them simply proclaiming that “Men R Trash”. There’s a song about Ross and Rachel from Friends (“I Got Off The Plane”) and a supermarket sequence cleverly titled, “Meet Market”, both of which created a perma-smile on my face.

Ellen Kane, who co-directs with Moss and choreographed the show, deserves special mention for the highly energetic and creative dancing from the gifted ensemble, the hardest working and most talented group I’ve seen in eons. Combining hip hop, ballroom, jazz, tap and more, the cast never seems to stop moving for the entire run of the show, each creating unique characters yet moving as a unit with extreme precision. “8 Dates” and “C U Never” particularly captivated me with the cast not only hitting their movements with such power, but also impressively embodying such things as text messages being sent or the typing or erasing of them acted out with finger and toe taps.

Leading them all, Foster and Tulley, two talents who previously impressed in & Juliet and Six respectively, provide galvanizing performances and unquestionable chemistry easily deserving of the same recognition currently bestowed upon Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande. Foster, who identifies as non-binary, has perfect comic timing, a gift for speedy transitions, and a clear, soaring vocal ability. Tulley has such a unique flair for dancing, an undeniable belt, and a knack for drawing you in with her adorable, lonely, passionate Nancy. These are two of the best leading musical performances I’ve seen in a long long time. Noah Thomas steals every scene he’s in with his sardonic, hyper-sarcastic Artie, who goes from super slick to flying off the handle at the drop of a hat. He had me at “Slide right out of my DMs / Hit me up again in your dre-ams!”

Costume Designer Max Johns dresses the cast in the coolest, most eye-popping contemporary outfits, such as Tulley’s red cutoff sweater over a white dress shirt or Foster literally wearing their heart on their sleeves. The sets by Moi Tran, while simple, feel of the moment and clean. If I were to quibble with one aspect of the show, it’s the bookended scenes of our main characters represented by actors wearing masks and the overuse of the ensemble playing furniture. It sometimes feels like the show contains too many layers, and by pulling back on some of it, one can focus on the real emotionality at hand.

Ultimately, the show has a very simple, RuPaul-inspired message of loving yourself while also celebrating platonic friendships. Sure, us singletons out there would like someone to cuddle with or snog, but the love between friends can feel just as if not more satisfying. There’s no doubt Why Am I So Single? is a bit of a hot mess at times, but I’ll take a diamond in the rough over something too polished any day of the week. A bit of restructuring, editing and perhaps bigger stakes could result in musical perfection. With such great acting, singing, dancing, songwriting and a message that feels of the moment, I’m going to say a few holiday prayers for this show: Please find a way to bring this back to the West End soon! Please release a full cast recording! Please bring this to Broadway!

Why Am I So Single? is running at the Garrick Theatre in London until January 19, 2025.

[glenngaylord]

Gaypocalypse Now - Film Review: Queer ★★★★1/2

William S. Burroughs’ unfinished novella, Queer, tells the story of an alcoholic, junkie American writer named William Lee, who while escaping legal issues in the States, finds himself among other expats in Mexico City circa 1950. He spends his time at a local watering hole or cruising for men in the streets. There he meets and falls for a handsome fellow expat who may or may not be gay. Their connection fuels the story as they go on a surreal journey to better understand their true natures. It’s a semi-autobiographical narrative as told through Burroughs’ prickly yet emotional Beat Generation rhythms.

Luca Guadagnino (Call Me By Your Name) and Challengers screenwriter Justin Kuritzkes seem like the ideal team to adapt Burroughs’ work considering their adeptness with the spectrum of sexuality and sensuality. The results, while often experimental and distancing, not only stay true to Burroughs’ voice, but they also feel cinematically original and thrilling. It may play like a mashup of Death In Venice, Apocalypse Now, Altered States, Naked Lunch, and Burroughs’ own life, but it also has a beautiful love story at its core.

Daniel Craig, doing the best work of his career so far, shatters his suave, stoic Bond image with his gloriously unfiltered William Lee, which not coincidentally served as Burroughs’ early pen name and alter ego. Craig finds a deep well of anguish and passion in this particularly abrasive, difficult man. William stalks the city, often under the influence of one substance or another, zeroing in on men with abandon, such as an early encounter with a local played by singer Omar Apollo. The nearby watering hole, presided over by a hilarious, foppish man named John Dumé (Drew Droege in full Pre-Stonewall, gossipy, Judgy Judy mode), brings Eugene Allerton (Drew Starkey), a former soldier and enigmatically sexy man, to William’s razor sharp attention. Despite several heated sexual encounters, Eugene’s orientation doesn’t come into complete focus.

We also meet William’s friend Joe, an unrecognizable Jason Schwartzman, who steals every scene he’s in with his tales of chasing men. One could easily see a bit of Seth Rogen in his purposefully silly portrayal. His kicking up of his feet in one moment served as an excellent bit of physical comedy.

Around the midpoint, the film switches tone drastically as William and Eugene embark on a long journey through the jungles of Ecuador to find a mind-altering drug which may deepen their relationship. Lesley Manville, also unrecognizable here, gives a startling performance as a researcher of the substance known as yage (aka ayahuasca). As our main characters travel through the heart of darkness, the film gets trippier and trippier as they literally pour their hearts out, culminating in a truly moving finale.

One could easily dismiss this film as pretentious, and in many ways, it is, but for me it serves as subterfuge to undercut what is ultimately a very simple love story. It’s hard to spot the conventions when faced with such a unique tone. Guadagnino and his extraordinary Cinematographer, Sayombhu Mukdeeprom (Call Me By Your Name, Suspiria, Challengers), seemed to have studied Bernardo Bertolucci’s The Conformist and combined its aesthetic with Edward Hopper’s paintings to present perfectly composed, immersive frames for our characters to inhabit. I wanted to live in this world. Making his feature debut as a Production Designer, Stefano Baisi offers up one gorgeous set after another, all filmed in Italy. Between this film and Emilia Perez, also set in Mexico yet shot in Europe, as well as The Substance, with France subbing for Los Angeles, it feels like we’ve entered an era of can’t-quite-put-your-finger-on-it cinematic strangeness. Menswear designer J.W. Anderson outdoes his feature Costuming debut in Challengers with a stunning array of high-waisted pants, knit polos and other Mid-Century creations. Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross switch gears completely from their propulsive Challengers score with something more lush and romantic. Their score gets augmented by anachronistic yet fascinating needle drops by the likes of Sinead O’Connor, Nirvana, and Prince. The work of the crew all adds up to a wonderfully visual and aural experience.

While so much of the story draws from Burroughs’ own life experiences, including a reference to the purportedly accidental shooting of his wife Joan, the filmmakers really shine when exploring the layers of attraction and love. Some may find it silly, and they definitely take risks, but I felt the connection. Sure, the film contains plenty of nudity and sex scenes, but the real heart of this film lies with what’s happening between our two lead actors’ ears.

Starkey serves as a steady, quiet force opposite Craig. He gives very little away while drawing you in, striking that hard to define movie star balance. You completely understand why William wants to figure him out and literally go to the ends of the earth for an answer. When all is said and done, however, this film belongs to Daniel Craig. I won’t soon forget his final scene, highly reminiscent of David Bowie’s work in The Hunger, but very much its own thing as it provides a heartbreaking view of his soul. Queer may feel like an acquired taste for some audiences, but for me, it felt like something bold, fresh and equal parts nihilistic and tender.

Queer opens in theaters on November 27th.

[glenngaylord]

So No One Told You Life Was Gonna Be This Way - Film Review: The World According To Allee Willis ★★★★

Never heard of Allee Willis? If not, trust me, no matter your age, you know her work. This iconic songwriter/visual artist was responsible for writing or co-writing “September” and “Boogie Wonderland” for Earth, Wind & Fire, “Neutron Dance” for The Pointer Sisters, “What Have I Done To Deserve This?” for Pet Shop Boys, The Color Purple musical, and the inescapable earworm juggernaut that was “I’ll Be There For You”, the theme song from Friends. She also threw legendary parties at her Pee Wee’s Playhouse-style North Hollywood home and was her own work of art with her loud, colorful outfits and asymmetrical hairdo.

Director Alexis Spraic and Producers Nicholas Coles and Prudence Fenton, Allee’s partner, bring this one-of-a-kind person to vivid life in the documentary The World According To Allee Willis. The fact that Willis seemingly documented her life with over 10,000 hours of footage and every snippet of paper on which she ever scribbled out lyrics, has given the filmmakers a rich base allowing Willis to virtually tell her own story in her own voice. Combining this with sit-down interviews from a wonderful gallery of famous faces such as Lily Tomlin, Paul Reubens, Lesley Ann Warren, Bruce Vilanch, Pamela Adlon, Verdine White, Brenda Russell, Stephen Bray, Julie Brown, Patti LaBelle and many more gives us as complete a picture of its subject as possible considering Willis sadly passed away in 2019 at the age of 72.

Despite her enormous success, Willis had a complex life, with her mother dying when she was young, her father not approving of her embracing Black culture, and battles with self-esteem, her sexuality, and surprisingly with money issues. Spraic paints a warm and lovely picture of Willis, but admirably doesn’t shy away from her very human struggles. She may have been a major talent and a blast to be around, but what made her even more special were her very relatable foibles. You may end up feeling that dichotomy of knowing her and not at the same time.

Every interview feels supported by footage which amply illustrates their stories, while Allee herself dominates the film. Some of the sound and image quality may suffer, but the filmmakers have wisely chosen to put story above perfection. This allows for the many facets of Willis’ personality to shine. What surprised me the most about her was the fact that she felt lonely for much of her life but also experienced great love with her partner, Prudence. You might have thought she had amassed extreme wealth until you find out how small her percentages were with regard to song royalties. Although out to her friends, she never introduced her partner to her father nor did she really like to discuss her sexuality in public. As a woman in the music industry, she was an outlier and treated as such, only finding acceptance and celebration later in life when she was inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame just a year before her death.

This film should serve as a template for how to create a well-rounded portrait of a complicated person and yet still retain a sliver of her mystique. Ultimately, it’s a celebration of a highly accomplished woman who gave and continues to give big-hearted joy to our lives. The ending scene alone made me want to reach into the great beyond and dance in the streets with this special person. At a time when there’s so much conformity in our world, it feels exactly right to bow down to someone who refused to be anyone else but her wacky, driven, flawed self.

The World According To Allee Willis opens in New York, Los Angeles and Detroit on November 15th with Nationwide One-Night-Only Theatrical Screenings on November 19th, 2024 and will be available on VOD starting November 22nd.

[glenngaylord]

Field Trip - Film Review: Happy Clothes ★★★½

At 83 years old, fashion designer/icon Patricia Field seems to accomplish more in one morning than most people do in a month. Slackers and ageists, take note! In Michael Selditch’s joyful documentary, Happy Clothes: A Film About Patricia Field, you’re guaranteed to conclude that you haven’t done enough with your life. Best known for her unforgettable work on Sex And The City, Emily In Paris, Ugly Betty, The Devil Wears Prada and for her trend-setting Manhattan stores dating back to 1966, Patricia Field has always been associated with a burst of colors and patterns, not always matching, yet always memorable.

How appropriate then that the documentary feels the same and is all the better for it. Eschewing many of the tropes littered across so many biodocs, Selditch creates a heady vibe instead. We get smatterings of backstory and talking heads from such luminaries as Kim Cattrall, Sarah Jessica Parker, Lily Collins, and Michael Urie, but the vast majority of this film evokes that fly-on-the-wall bottled lightning from simply watching Field go about her day tending to her many projects. Sure we learn about her upbringing and her relationships with women over the years, but we get no deep character exploration. In fact, its mission statement almost feels like the opposite. Patricia Field, with her chainsmoker voice, shock of red hair and incredibly chic eyewear, comes across as a lovable curmudgeon, someone who will tell a driver the fastest route but who will do so with a smile. She’s got Larry David’s assertiveness, Joan Rivers’ work ethic, and yet has that sweet and salty, Mama Bear quality of Mercedes Ruehl in Big. She clearly knows what she wants and fearlessly voices her opinion, yet she also enjoys the company of others, especially the raft of designers and staff she’s worked with over the years. Consider her the ultimate New York Diva who’s also a good hang.

Beautifully and astutely shot by Cinematographer, Kris Lindenmuth, the film has a natural flow, and while fairly stakes free, had me smiling the entire time. Here’s a subject who enjoys interacting with others, but doesn’t especially believe the hype they often spew at her. Considering herself more of a consultant than as designer, Field downplays so much of her work and seems to attribute it to having a good gut. She’s so refreshingly matter-of-fact in that way I love New Yorkers more than any other people on the planet. As she says late in the film, “I just want to live until I die and that’s the end of it.” What an unpretentious way to sum up a big life such as hers. Yes, at her age she admits she’s ready to retire, and with her juggling her television shows, fashion designs, memoir, and this very documentary, who can blame her for wanting to finally kick back?

More than anything, this film gets to the heart of an artist’s aesthetic. We watch as she sparks to a certain fabric or shoe design. We marvel at her eye for combining patterns. Her relationships with those she’s dressed also gives us so much insight into how her mind works and why actors feel their characters so well when Field gives them their framework. I especially loved hearing Michael Urie talk about how his crazy looks came together on Ugly Betty and how it instantly defined him.

Of course, many will look for signs of tension between Kim Cattrall and Sarah Jessica Parker, both interviewed here separately, yet both speak so lovingly of their collaborations with Field and how their costumes helped turn them both into iconic stars. One could squint really hard and see a little one-upmanship between the two in who has a better relationship with Field, but that’s a mighty big stretch. In fact, this may be the least gossipy film I’ve seen within the world of fashion. She set the world on fire and had fun doing it. Never self-aggrandizing, Patricia Field, like this fun little slice of life doc, is pure pop fizz.

Happy Clothes - A Film About Patricia Field opens September 20th at the IFC Center in Manhattan and wherever you rent movies on digital.

[glenngaylord]

Plaza Sweet - Film Review: My Old Ass ★★★½

What happens when a stoner comedy with a stoner comedy title and and a stoner comedy premise turns out to be an unabashedly sentimental and decidedly queer coming of age drama? Well, folks, allow me to introduce you to My Old Ass. Writer/Director Megan Park, with her feature debut, has assembled all the usual parts to make you think you’re in for a film to light up to, but upends your expectations by ripping your heart out instead.

Featuring a breakthrough performance by Maisy Stella along with a beautifully grounded supporting cast, Stella plays Elliott, a soon-to-be University of Toronto freshman, who spends the last days of summer on her family’s cranberry farm. She has a girlfriend she’ll be leaving behind, but otherwise feels ready to start her life. The film opens with Elliott and her best friends Ro (Kerrice Brooks) and Ruthie (Maddie Ziegler) camping out in the woods for a last blowout involving magic mushrooms. During her narcotics trip, Elliott encounters her 39-year-old self in the form of Aubrey Plaza, who oddly bears zero resemblance to her younger self. I suppose it doesn’t really matter. When Aubrey Plaza wants to appear in your film, you say “Yes, Aubrey Plaza!” every single time. She can make any film worth seeing. I’m talking to you Megalopolis!

Older Elliott imparts some wisdom on her young protege, telling her to pay closer attention to her loved ones and to stay away from a guy named Chad. Of course, she’ll soon meet Chad (a delightful Percy Hynes White), an intern at her farm, and do her best to push him away. This proves more challenging with every encounter. His charming presence causes her to question her sexuality and dares her to tempt fate. She does heed Plaza’s advice, however, by spending more time with her family, including her mother Kathy (a wonderful Maria Dizzia), and her much more conservative brother Max (a fine, funny turn by Seth Isaac Johnson). So what starts out as a wacky drug-fueled evening in the woods, soon morphs into the story of a young woman discovering her place in the world and what matters the most. I feel all sappy and gooey even writing that sentence, but Park and her cast navigate these slushy waters with immense charm and a surprising depth of emotion. As such, the film reminded me of Best Picture Oscar winner Coda, but with 100% more hallucinogens.

Stella gives a rich, vibrant, star making performance, filled with exuberant sexuality, intense temperament, and a mature, loving side she’s hesitant to confront. Unapologetically queer, Stella incorporates her emerging feelings into her existing persona by recognizing the spectrum of her sexual identity. A comedic role with such rich, soulful layers feels rare these days, so savoring this one has been one of the great joys of the year. Add Plaza to that sentiment, who really only appears briefly, but shows us something new. Usually so sardonic and deadpan, such as her turn as April Ludgate on Parks And Recreation, Plaza plays things fairly straight here and managed to reduce me to a puddle of tears. Again, not what I expected when I saw her name on the label!

Special mention must go to Cinematographer Kristen Correll, also making her feature debut. She shoots the film’s numerous boating scenes with a sweeping panache and gives everything a lovely, late summer glow. Sure, My Old Ass may end up feeling like an elevated Afterschool Special in the long run, somewhat basic and predictable, but if you key into Stella and Plaza’s wonderful work and embrace its conventions, you may find yourself swooning just a little bit.

My Old Ass is currently showing in theaters in the US and UK.

[glenngaylord]

Be You – Book Review: Please Come To Boston ★★★★

LGBTQ+ coming out or coming of age stories hardly seem groundbreaking these days, but sometimes, as the old saying goes, the devil’s in the details. Such is the case with author/screenwriter/film critic Gary Goldstein’s third novel, Please Come To Boston, which on the surface may seem fairly paint-by-numbers, but excels because of the engaging characters, their dynamics, and the beautifully specific settings.

Set in 1975 and spanning the first semester at Boston University (B.U.), Goldstein immerses us in the journey of 18-year-old freshman Nicky, just arriving from Long Island and feeling the frisson of finally starting his life. In the dorm elevator, he immediately meets Joe, the hunky jock and friendly dorm orientation leader, followed by Lori, sharp, self-possessed and the spitting image of Laurie (Susan Dey) from The Partridge Family. It’s details like this which instantly place you back to a more innocent time. Without cell phones, social media, and with a smaller, more homogeneous pop cultural landscape, Goldstein evokes the sweetness of a time when conversational skills, not texting, felt imperative. I thought about that time and how we would grab a new vinyl album and spend hours poring over the liner notes of our favorite musical artists. Instead of playing Minecraft at home, we’d go to arcades, or better yet, chat all night long at a local greasy spoon. Reading this novel feels like a great unplugging.

Without spoiling too much of the storyline, Nicky loves Joe who loves Lori who loves Nicky and Joe. Oh, and Joe also loves Nicky and Nicky also loves Lori. Got that? Needless to say, things go from straight to bi to gay as relationships develop, unravel, and sometimes circle back around. The basic outline of this story doesn’t break new ground, although I quite enjoyed the central mystery of present day Nicky, interweaved throughout the book, as he returns to his old stomping grounds decades later. Why he has come back to Boston and where it leads did not play out as I had expected.

No, Goldstein’s gift is how he genially gets you to root for his characters. I love his use of italicized sentences to reveal their inner thoughts, often right in the middle of a conversation. Goldstein has a wry wit, congenial, incisive and delightfully approachable. You just want to spend time with these people, savoring every late night tuna on rye or sexually charged jogging date. He skillfully captures those first stirrings of sexual attraction and makes them feel as earth-shattering as the early rise of Bruce Springsteen. His electrifying concert proves to be a catalyst for our protagonist’s explosive feelings for each other. When two characters get caught fooling around in front of a grandmother, I gasped, but also loved the care Goldstein took handling the aftermath.

Additionally, he possesses a wonderful sense of place. I found myself looking up pictures of the old Boston campus, especially the “Stack Of Books” building, just so I could put myself even more in Nicky’s shoes. A raft of supporting characters hilariously round out the story, especially Monty, Nicky’s country music loving Jewish roommate from Pittsburgh (!) and their dorm neighbor Shelley with her honking New York accent when saying things like, “Oh, my Gawd, I would dzye!” I found myself aching for these characters, wondering how they would react to the upcoming AIDS crisis, or 9/11, or the Trump era. Although none of this gets covered in the book, you know an author has done a good job when you start to extend his characters through the decades.

Ultimately, Please Come To Boston is about the idea of being yourself. It’s not the most revolutionary of premises, but it’s a joy to read. Towards the end, I kept thinking I knew where Nicky, Joe and Lori would end up, but Goldstein’s smart enough to subvert those expectations and give us something so simple, so beautiful, so heartbreaking and yet so sublime.

Please Come To Boston publishes on September 10th through Hadleigh House Publishing and is available wherever books are sold. Be sure to check out his prior novels, The Last Birthday Party and The Mother I Never Had.

[glenngaylord]

Setting A President - Film Review: Lover Of Men: The Untold History Of Abraham Lincoln ★★★½

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard someone say to me lately, “Pete Buttigieg will be our first gay President some day.” Hell, I’ve even said it myself a number of times. But what if we’ve already had one or two, albeit not openly so? Rumors have abounded over the years that James Buchanan, POTUS #15 and the only bachelor President, was a gay man who had a relationship with our 13th Vice President, William Rufus King. Some, including Andrew Jackson referred to the pair as “Aunt Fancy” and “Miss Nancy”. While Buchanan’s legacy has seemed less than stellar, not long after, the man considered one of our arguably greatest Presidents, Abraham Lincoln, may have also been gay. Shaun Peterson certainly makes a compelling case in his fascinating new documentary, Lover Of Men: The Untold History Of Abraham Lincoln.

While not groundbreaking in its approach, utilizing a mixture of talking heads from historians and activists, dialogue-free recreations, and excerpts from existing letters, Peterson nonetheless makes a convincing and moving case for Lincoln’s homosexuality. Furthermore, he’s created something moving which astutely links the past to the present.

Throughout the film, we see Lincoln’s involvement with four men, with one in particular, Joshua Speed, ostensibly serving as the love of his life. Peterson certainly has the receipts to prove his point by dipping into Lincoln’s own correspondence, sometimes backed up by observations of those in his circle. Sure, some have said the nature of same sex friendships at the time allowed for overt displays of affection and shared sleeping arrangements, but the film makes the case for historical erasure. It strongly states that this happened and those in power don’t want the public to know about it.

One can’t deny Lincoln would sign letters to Speed with the words, “Yours forever”, which he never would do in letters to his wife, Mary Todd Lincoln. He’d also speak of a fear of women and opted to share a small bed with Speed even when offered his own room. I found myself touched deeply when Speed ended his relationship with Lincoln by marrying a woman, thus encouraging Abe to do the same. It may have been for Lincoln’s political gain, but it doesn’t make it any less heartbreaking.

Pundits in the documentary speak of the cultural demands to tuck anything gay away by hiding behind such marriages. The last act carries us from that age of the closet to today, where so many, especially in politics, have lived openly and proudly. I could have done without the end credit Diana Ross needle drop and the Ziggy Stardust-ing of Lincoln’s face, which I feel take away a bit from the pathos of his life, but Peterson’s reaching out to younger generations feels admirable nonetheless. Yes, this film could easily slot itself right into a History Channel program, but the use of recreations adds a cinematic touch which makes for a lovely collective experience in a theater. I’m really grateful this film exists, bolstering what used to be a lot of cocktail party chatter. It makes me so proud of our forebears. Pete Buttigieg may end up making Presidential history some day, but if so, he stands on the shoulders of at least two others.

Lover Of Men: The Untold History Of Abraham Lincoln opens in theaters only on September 6th. Lover Of Men has partnered with HRC; those who purchase tickets to see the film in theaters this weekend via the link below will directly benefit The Human Rights Campaign.

https://www.fandango.com/lover-of-men-the-untold-history-of-abraham-lincoln-2024-237246/movie-overview?cmp=ST_Lede~Fandango~LoverOfMen_HRC

[glenngaylord]

A Towering Inferno - Film Review: Faye ★★★★

Let’s face it, practically every queer person in show biz either has a Faye Dunaway story or wishes they had one. Gay gossip columnist Billy Masters even has an infamous feature called “Fayewatch” in which he more often than not details sightings of her erratic behavior. Instead of honoring the career of a true Hollywood legend, such reporting has made her the butt of a joke, the “crazy lady” trope incarnate. While misbehaving male actors often get a free pass, chatter about Faye’s difficult attitude reek of misogyny and sexism. This and more get explored in the candid and moving documentary Faye, part career retrospective and part deep dive into what makes her tick. Needless to say, this often remarkable film will serve as catnip to every Faye Gay of a certain age, and they’ll likely come out of it with a newfound respect for one of our greatest living stars. Most actors would kill to have one classic film on their IMDB page, but Faye Dunaway has an undeniable three with Bonnie and Clyde, Chinatown, and Network, the last of which won her the Academy Award in 1976. Add to that stellar performances in Little Big Man, The Thomas Crown Affair, Three Days Of The Condor, Puzzle Of A Downfall Child, The Eyes Of Laura Mars, Barfly (one of her best and most overlooked), the blockbuster hit The Towering Inferno, and The Handmaid’s Tale, not to mention her iconic portrayal of Joan Crawford in the much reviled camp classic, Mommie Dearest, and you have an unparalleled resume. Every career has its ups and downs, but if a career damaging role still gets discussed to this day, you’ve done something right. Faye at her best gave us strong, brittle, captivating women you couldn’t ignore, and I have no doubt we will see more.

At 83, you can still see that fire in her right off the bat from Laurent Bouzereau's lens. Before we even see her, we can hear her barking at the director to start shooting because she’s here and she’s ready to go. Once on camera, she complains about the terrible couch she’s sitting on as she fusses with her hair, her hand positions, and she even demands water in a glass instead of a bottle. Her conspiratorial eyeroll, followed by a laugh and a sly, “See?” to the director tells us she’s a handful and she knows it. Call this an apology tour or a mea culpa, because Faye cops to her behavior, but she also gets candid about her mental health struggles. In doing so, we see the lovely, caring, introspective woman underneath that reputation, and it reframes everything we may have thought about her previously. Told chronologically, Faye could easily have served as a puff piece hopping from one great performance after another. Bouzereau, however, has found his way in by including Faye’s son Liam, who often sits beside her and feeds her photos from their lives. You can feel their deep connection and love for each other, giving us a glimpse of Dorothy Faye, her given name, a Southern girl raised by a headstrong mother and alcoholic father. She movingly talks about her late younger brother, who by her own admission had a warmth she wishes she possessed. Her fortitude and laser-focused ambition, however, served her well in climbing to the top.

Through archival clips as well as interviews with Faye, her son, film scholars, co-stars like Mickey Rourke, and friends like Sharon Stone, we get a well-rounded look at the talented, complicated, sometimes tortured perfectionist and devoted mother. We even get treated to heretofore unseen clips from her aborted feature directorial debut of Terrence McNally’s Master Class. I had the pleasure of seeing Faye onstage in the play and it’s truly a shame the rest of the world won’t get the chance to witness this magnificent performance. Most of the juicy nuggets of her career get screen time here, including the infamous Roman Polanski hair-pulling incident on the set of Chinatown, her iconic post Academy-winning photo of her poolside at the Beverly Hills Hotel, and even her thoughts on Mommie Dearest, which she has rarely discussed. Mara Hobel, who played young Christina, touchingly discusses how she wished Faye had enjoyed the experience as much as she did.

There’s no doubt Faye has great beauty and an alluring mystery which draws audiences to her. At her best, she possesses a nervous energy, one shown to great effect in clips from Network. Her son posits that without her mental health issues, she might not ever have been so great. It’s a fascinating and daring hypothesis, one you don’t typically see in documentaries of this sort. While we’re treated to quirky moments like her obsession with Blistex and judging people by their astrological signs, we also see a movingly proud mother and grandmother, and in one short but revealing clip in which we see her getting her her styled for an appearance, someone actually goofy and fun…two words not often associated with Dunaway. She even jokes that Jack Nicholson dubbed her “Dread” on the set of Chinatown and that she learned to love the nickname.

It’s so wonderful to learn that she mentored Sharon Stone at the height of her fame, making clear how important it is to give back to those who deserve it. In turn, Stone gets choked up discussing the love she has for her friend while also making us laugh when Faye tells her to get out of her eyeline at a photo shoot. This documentary also makes clear that Faye loves every aspect of filmmaking, studying other movies, directing her own short, and gobbling up cinema every year at the Cannes Film Festival. Moments like these go a long way towards making us see Faye in a different light. Like many icons, she has dueling personas, that of the star and the one pre-fame. Liam brought me to tears when he reconciles the two at the very end. Is Faye a pain in the ass? Does she futz too much with hair, makeup and wardrobe? Undoubtedly, even by her own admission, but to distill her down to one trait and to put it under a microscope is what has allowed people to laugh at her for decades. She may have made her own bed, particularly with the details surrounding her recently getting axed from the Broadway-bound Tea At Five, but she has also had to protect herself in a male-dominated world. Faye brings us many facets of this complex woman and celebrates her rightful place in screen history.

Faye is available to stream on MAX starting July 13th.