If you grew up gay in the Pre-Stonewall era, as I did, you probably share my view that the history of gay cinema has moved with remarkable speed from the days of “I thought people like killed themselves” to today, where every soap seems to have a gay character who is witty and clever. It’s tempting to think that the whole question of coming out is oh so yesterday. Been there, done that, who needs another tale of kids of born-agains cowering in the corner.
But just as racism in America was not washed away by Obama’s presidency, coming out can still feel for many gay kids like walking on broken glass. And that means there is still lots to work with for storytellers and filmmakers looking for a tension-filled plot line to build on.
To my endless dismay, the stories with gay themes now coming out faster than I can watch them tend to be badly slapped together. The producers know there’s an audience for them: Netflix has LGBTQ listed among its choices. Prime doesn’t, but watch one and they’ll throw another half dozen gay-themed films your way in their “because you watched…” category. Somebody there is keeping track. But the quality is quite low, and it really feels as if they know they have an audience so desperate for gay-themes films that they’ll watch anything.
Actually, when you come to think of it, “gay-themed” as a category almost begs low quality. It’s not as if we’re dealing with the great moral dilemmas, courage in the face of disaster, heroism in the defense of country, the desperation of a Sophie’s choice. It’s more a question of wanting to see people like ourselves depicted on the screen. Or people we want to be, handsome, talented and smart, winning over the object of our affections, and putting the bully in his place. It’s not that we can’t make excellent gay-themed films. Brokeback Mountain managed to capture the heartbreak of a love the world would not permit. Moonlight tells the story of a kid handicapped by his size, by poverty, by a drug-addicted single parent as well as by his membership in this underclass of untouchables known as homosexuals. And Call Me By Your Name tells another story, at the opposite end of the spectrum, one of the heartbreak of a lost first love. All proof, as far as I’m concerned, that the best gay stories are those who frame one’s sexuality in the larger scheme of things. We know that boy-meets-boy or girl-meets-girl, sparks fly and they live happily ever after isn’t sufficient grit for a good story, but neither, it turns out, are tales of mom and dad coming around. “You’ll always be my son, no matter what” has to be the cliché theme of the day.
And that means the place to go is to the notion that sexuality is fluid, that the best plot lines revolve around the multiple paths to self-discovery. Not that one is gay and the world is all wrong about gay people, but that the path to self-knowledge is a bumpy road and with a little help from one’s friends, one can get by, and perhaps prosper.
Giant Little Ones is a Canadian film that came out in 2018 and just made it to DVD in February. It’s about two boys, Franky and Ballas, best friends and swim team buddies who, like most 17 year-olds are hot on getting laid. Only one night, when they’ve had too much to drink, they end up monkeying around with each other. The question of who’s the monker and who’s the monkee drives the plot line. Franky is the more decent kid, convinced that he’s straight but unafraid to question. Ballas is more interested in saving his own macho reputation, and throws Franky under the bus. What makes this story worth watching is the way the two boys take it from there. In Call Me By Your Name, the denouement is the scene where the father shows his love for his son by helping him understand that, when your heart is broken, you can dwell on the loss, but you can just as easily focus on the fact that you’re blessed with the capacity to love. A similar scene takes place in Giant Little Ones, when Franky’s gay estranged father uses the opportunity to reconnect with his son.
I’ve given too much away. Sorry. But that’s both the charm and the weakness of the movie, depending on your politics and your understanding of what makes a good story. If this film is any indicator of where LGBT films are going these days, it’s a sign, in my view, that we’re finally coming of age as makers of artistic gay films, which, as I’ve implied, involve getting beyond the less interesting themes of “is he or isn’t he?” and whether the good guys win in the end. If you’re gay and you click on “gay and lesbian” to see others like yourselves on screen, you may want to pass this film up. If you’re fine with just watching the journey, and don’t mind if the story ends before it reaches the destination, this film’s for you.
available on Netflix Streaming and other sources for a small fee.
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Thoroughly enjoyed the film and your review. I like stories where people go through a process authentically and true to themselves, no matter where they are or what they identify with. This film is driven by the young people being themselves, flawed, imperfect, unformed or still forming, but so much more interesting because they reflect reality.
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