by Kevin Sparrow

The sad thing about film festivals is that oftentimes it can be hard to find your favorite films after they’re over. To wrap up our look forward to Reeling 2009, we are going to wallow in self-pity and discuss some of the fantastic dramas being presented this year.

The Filipino film Boy splits its focus between the innocence of first love and the eroticism of desire. The Boy in this case is a thoughtful poet who, when he’s not using his allowance to buy exotic fish to fill his room, spends it at the local male dancer club. He meets Aries there, and as things progress toward New Year’s, The Boy decides to blow his load and take Aries home for the night. There are some very heartfelt and specific character interactions mixed with some standard cliches, especially in the portrayal of the transgender members of the club and shallowness in having such an uncomplicated relationship build. Madeleine Nicolas as Mother brings a lot of credence to her role of a scattershot near-divorcee who has a child with a secret and a husband with another family, and she affects some good performances from the younger cast. The movie is beautifully shot and attempts to overcome its flaws in story with symbolic imagery. (Boy screens at the Landmark Cinema Friday, November 6 at 7:15 PM).

Family is writer-director-actor Faith Trimel’s exploration of the many difficulties faced by women of color in coming out, from trying to keep a career in entertainment and athletics to remaining a vital part of one’s family and community. The lowered quality of certain production values actually highlights much of what is potent about the film, the double discrimination felt by black SGL women. Trimel stars as Felicia, a moderately successful actress who tries to keep her girlfriend in the closet–literally–when her traditional Jamaican mother comes to visit. Felicia’s long-suffering lover tells her they’re through, and Felicia is forced to realize she has to come out. But not without her friends. Felicia dares her five best friends to come out with her within 30 days. Melanie wants to get back the daughter she had been raising with another women who walked out on her, Tonya proposes to her white girlfriend only to be dropped in on with a surprise visit by her judgmental sister, Sabrina is a doctor whose strong ties to her faith keep her from even accepting herself, Idrice is a WNBA star who is worried her career outside the court will not take off if she’s out, and Monifa outs herself only to find that she may not be as over men as she thinks. These six women work together and separately to understand themselves, their lives and their relationships, some rebuilding and some breaking down. (Family screens at Columbia College’s Film Row Cinema on Saturday, November 14 at 2 PM).

Finally, Mein Freund Aus Faro (My Friend From Faro) features Melanie, a 22-year-old still figuring out her place in the world, even if she tries to be someone else in it. After hitting Jenny with her car, Melanie offers to take the teen and her friend to a club and is mistaken for a Portuguese boy (she calls herself Miguel) due to her close-cropped hair, small chest and masculine frame. Melanie and Jenny bond at the club, and Melanie begins hitting up the new guy at work, Nuno, to learn more about Portuguese culture. Meanwhile, Melanie’s brother and father are pressuring her about not having a boyfriend, so Melanie pays Nuno to stop by and pretend to be her new boyfriend, Miguel. In a not-so-subtle Shakepearean way, Melanie’s secret lives begin to converge, and when she finds out that Jenny is only 14, things really take a turn for the worse. The film features many grounded performances, particularly from such a young cast, and Melanie’s anguish over not having anything to identify herself as is heartrending. (Mein Freund Aus Faro screens at the Landmark Cinema on Sunday, November 8 at 7:15 PM).

by Kevin Sparrow

The opening night of Reeling 28 will feature the film The Big Gay Musical at Chicago’s Music Box Theatre, which promises to be an outrageous pastiche of musical tropes, camp and heartfelt reverence for one of queerdom’s favorite genre’s. Two other comedy films playing during the festival match the exuberance set forth by this first night.

The Baby Formula is a Canadian mockumentary by director Alison Reid (who also co-stars as the director of the documentary) that posits what would happen if two women decided to make their own biological baby. Lilith and Athena are a happily married Toronto couple who have found a way to have their own kids: genetic testing with stem cells in mice has proven effective in utilizing eggs from one female to create a zygote with an egg from another female. As the first human subject, Athena is excited to become a new mommy, focusing on her own burgeoning belly and needs, leading Lilith to make the decision to be impregnated in the same way without informing her partner. The two reconcile and begin planning for the birth of their daughters, but it’s none too easy with an overly religious mom on Athena’s side, two alcoholic gay fathers on Lilith’s, and a secret to keep about how these babies were conceived. The documentary style creates compellingly natural characters with very distinct personalities and great performances by leads Angela Vint and Megan Fahlenbock and Rosemary Dunsmore as Athena’s mother. The humor is laced in surprising ways, but there are startling moments of poignancy throughout and some tough issues about what it means to accept one’s role as a parent. (The Baby Formula screens at the Landmark Cinema on Friday, November 6 at 9:15 PM).

For fans of early Peter Jackson, you may have found a good ringer in Kevin Hamedani’s ZMD: Zombies of Mass Destruction. Like all good horror, ZMD bills itself as “a political zomedy” and follows a few liberal-leaning protagonists in a small New England town that just happens to fall under attack by zombies. Frida Abbas has returned home after quitting Princeton, her excuse being to help her father run his restaurant, but all she encounters are neighbors mistaking her for every other identity but Iranian, which ends up even worse when a very Fox News-style channel purports that Muslim terrorists are behind the zombie outbreak. Tom has returned with his partner Lance to finally come out to his mother, only to find her already bitten and becoming zombie. They team up with Cheryl Banks, the ultra-liberal teacher who has put in her bid to run for mayor. Unfortunately, zombies alone aren’t their problem; the close-minded townspeople keep blaming and trying to get these “outsiders” to conform to conservative values. The one-liners are endless, the gore fantastic, and Frida’s theme song will stick with you for weeks. The film’s politics are evident throughout, but it slyly puts into context what it means to be a minority in America today. (ZMD screens at Columbia College’s Film Row Cinema on Friday, November 13 at 9 PM).

by Kevin Sparrow

A question frequently posited to gay men by straight men is, “How do you know you’re gay if you’ve never slept with a woman?” This question can easily be turned back around, leaving many heterosexual men fumbling to assert their masculinity by citing male-female sex as the accepted norm. The forthcoming film Humpday turns the question on its head to ask if two heterosexual men can have sex and remain straight. Truthfully, Humpday–and director Lynn Shelton–is more concerned with gender roles and earnest human interaction than homoeroticism, and this is an asset to the movie.

Ben and Andrew are life-long friends from two different walks of life. Ben (Mark Duplass) is settled into married life, working as a transportation specialist in Seattle and scheduling time with his wife Anna (Alycia Delmore) to conceive a baby when Andrew shows up in the middle of the night, an eccentric lone wolf who has aspirations of being an artist, but who has not yet completed any project. Ben tries to reacquaint himself with Andrew but becomes ingratiated into Andrew’s lackadaisical, impromptu lifestyle, sacrificing a dinner with Anna meant to acclimate her to Andrew. The two men are introduced to Seattle’s Humpfest (an actual film festival) that hands out awards for artistic achievement in amateur pornography. Their ideas expand until they decide that two straight men having sex on film would be most likely to win an award, and that they should be those two men. After he and Andrew try to push off their talk as drunken rambling the next day and challenge each other on their reasons for doing so, Ben becomes obsessed with the idea, desiring to help his friend finish a project, to reject some of his married life and to answer a few secret questions of his own. When Anna learns the news after her first in-depth conversation with Andrew, she is none too happy, but she realizes it is probably better to find out if her husband would rather be having sex with men before they have a child together. The outcome of Ben and Andrew’s meeting at a hotel room to shoot the porno takes up the last third of the film.

Director Lynn Shelton spoke after a preview screening held at Chicago’s AMC River East theater. She explained that the nuanced performances of all the actors (including Shelton in a supporting role) was arrived at by utilizing improvisation and a looser outline for each scene rather than a full script. The film benefits from this both by providing credible performances that feel more documentarian than comedic and by leaving the third act open-ended enough to be surprising and moving. Humpday is hilarious, uncomfortable and genuine, three things missing from many comedies today, and while it is not directly about homosexuality, its depiction of gender roles and masculinity are of especial note to queer audiences. Humpday will arrive in limited release on July 10.

Film collective Split Pillow has spent the last four years crafting patchwork documentaries for their Chicago360 series. The current volume, Play, takes five different subjects from five different filmmakers and explores their relationship to the Windy City. Even adults need time to unwind, and Play provides insight into the various ways grown-ups deal with playtime in Chicago. From board-game playing, speed-dating nerds to adult cheerleaders to the daily bike ride, Chicagoans enjoy a variety of events in their off-hours.

Many of the shorts are conscious of the queer community in Chicago and include their perspective. Members of the queer board-game players group discuss their experience, even one lesbian who ended up dating a man after a combined group met up, while the cheerleading group Chicago Spirit Brigade discuss the misconceived perception that being a male cheerleader automatically means a person is gay.

If you’re looking for your own good time, try gleaning some ideas from this excellent look at what makes Chicago fun. Chicago360-v.4: Play premiered at the venerable Music Box Theatre last Wednesday, but there are still two opportunities to catch a screening: Saturday, May 30 the film will play at the Viaduct Theatre (3111 N. Western Ave.) at 7 PM and Sunday, May 31 it will screen at The Hideout (1354 W. Wabansia Ave.) at 4 PM. Ticket prices are $7 and can be found at the Split Pillow website.

Review of Deflowered: My Life in Pansy Division

by Kevin Sparrow

Confrontation, political change and D.I.Y. have always been at the forefront of the punk movement, so it seems not a little odd that queer issues have historically been repressed in punk music. Refreshingly, Pansy Division arrived in the early 1990s to develop an honest discourse of homosexuality and bridge the gap between the outcast groups of queers and punks. As founder and lead vocal and guitar, Jon Ginoli is the best expert on the subject, and his recently released memoir, Deflowered: My Life in Pansy Division, is definitely worth a read for everyone who seeks out social change or self-motivation.

Deflowered traces the history of Pansy Division, from its uneasy formation and constant stream of drummers to tour diaries detailing the band’s exploits opening for Green Day and headlining their own shows over their nearly 20 year career. Ginoli casts Pansy Division as unapologetically gay, sex-postive and alternative; they made punk music more accessible to a queer audience and made homosexuality more commonplace in an increasingly macho and homophobic scene. Although the tone shifts between Ginoli’s current “wiseman” status to the tour diaries that reveal much more vulnerability are abrupt at times, the openness with which he shares it all is a credit to the memoir. Whereas other artists may use euphemism to discuss their relationships with others, especially their labels or people with whom they have had falling outs, Ginoli is consistently upfront with who he is discussing, providing a no-holds-barred account of a tremendously influential group. Being a currently active band also provides the book with a comprehensive perspective on the changing music business and how it affects the artist.

The documentary Pansy Division: Life in a Gay Rock Band recently played at Reeling in Chicago, and is another great opportunity to witness the legacy of the band straight from the source. Deflowered is available now trough Cleis Press, and Pansy Division’s forthcoming eighth album, That’s So Gay, will be released on March 31.

by Kevin Sparrow

Goth kids of the world rejoice! A new hero for the disenfranchised has emerged in the form of a hoodie-wearing zombie. Otto refashions the zombie move into a fabulous examination of pornography and politics. A young man, Otto (Jey Crisfar), returns from the dead with no memory of his life. He encounters experimental director Medea Yarn (Katharina Klewinghaus) when he stumbles upon a casting call for “zombies,” and instantly lands a part because he is so convincing in the role. Medea’s gay zombie fantasia focuses on an epidemic of homosexual zombies who are being oppressed by society, which reflects in Otto’s own experience of attempting to gain acceptance. The only problem is everyone thinks Otto is only faking his condition. Director Bruce LaBruce utilizes fantastic flourishes throughout the film, from Medea’s flicker-framed, silent-film star girlfriend Hella Bent (Susanne Sachsse) to a violently and sexually explicit zombie orgy. The performances are perfectly suited to the story, fitting very naturally among the larger-than-unlife circumstances. Crisfar develops a surprisingly nuanced performance as Otto, and Klewinghaus is captivating in her fiery persona as an eccentric artist. Music fans may also enjoy the adept use of songs by Cocorosie, Antony and the Johnsons, and Throbbing Gristle.

by Kevin Sparrow

Although it has been compared to Donnie Darko, Half-Life has more in common with Don DeLillo’s novel White Noise, not to mention Richard Linklater’s Waking Life. The arresting visual lingo combining live-action and animation sequences avoids gimmick by playing into the central theme of alienation occurring in the modern era. The film even contains this piece of wisdom in a pop-up book with the statement “One’s body is no more than thought itself.” Half-Life allows entry into the psyche of Pammy Wu (Sanoe Lake) who is dealing with a dissociation of sorts from herself. Her relationship with her mother, Saura (Julia Nickson-Soul), and brother, Tim (Alexander Agate) is strained from the recent departure of her father, and Pammy seeks some semblance of a normal life in a near-future that faces even greater environmental challenges than our current state. The title comes from the half-life the sun is rapidly approaching before it is on its way to destruction. As in White Noise, the background of constant T.V. and radio announcements play an important role; environmental threats are woven into the discourse of this film as elemental constructs of the future society. Our current “green” obsession is not obliterating the danger of pollution, and this in turn leads to a reaction of dislocation by Earth’s inhabitants. As Pammy falls deeper into her depression, Tim searches to discover a way to fix what is broken in his life. His special powers (think pretty much every character in “Heroes”) are displayed matter-of-factly, and they offer some hope as a way to combat disintegration, both within his family and for the world at large. The chemistry of the Wu family is amazingly strong between all performers, and the subtlety of Agate as Tim is a marvel. Beautiful scoring and cinematography contribute to an all-around magical move-going experience whose thematic conceits remain long after its viewing.

by Kevin Sparrow

In the 1970s, experimental and independent films became a more viable option for struggling filmmakers in the U.S. The founding of the MPAA in 1968 provided some freedom in content that had been impossible under previous codes, although this came with the burden of a film rating. It makes sense that James Bolton’s film Dream Boy is set in this era as its story is about experimentation and awakening for two teenage boys in rural Louisiana. Nathan (Stephan Bender) is perpetually in motion as his father’s job situation forces the family to move regularly. Nathan comes to live next door to Roy (Maximillian Roeg), a farm boy who drives the school bus. Their instant friendship leads to a clandestine romance as both boys have a lot to lose if their secret comes out. The cinematography by Sarah Levy captures gorgeous images of the rustic landscape, and the aging process of the film lends it the appearance of 1970s film stock. The abusive relationship Nathan has with his alcoholic father (Thomas Jay Ryan) is presented very naturally, building alarming tension throughout the story. The transition from domestic drama to Southern Gothic is slightly abrupt, but the resolution to Nathan’s transitory life is emotionally satisfying, leaving an indelible impression.

by Kevin Sparrow

We all know the story: boy meets boy, boy gets beaten up for loving boy, boy loses boy. However, this earnest drama features some fantastic performances, moving dialogue, and wonderful cinematography, saving it from cliché. Teenage artist Danny (Tye Olson) is forced to take on a weekend roommate in the form of swimming jock Carter (Kyle Clare). Coming from separate worlds, the two develop an amicable rapport, which leads to gentle flirtation. A give-and-take is established between the two as Danny writes Carter’s essay for him, and Carter poses nude for Danny. They uneasily begin a relationship, Carter slowly allowing Danny to explore his body, claiming it as reward in a way that seems designed to protect himself from questioning his sexuality. As homophobic swim team members uncover the relationship and Carter’s anxieties rise to the surface, the future looks uncertain. Watercolors has been winning awards from various film festivals, including best actor for Tye Olson at Outfest, Kyle Clare for supporting actor at Tampa, and best director for first-timer David Oliveras at Tampa. Great performances from the supporting cast help ground the film, and a wonderful framing device for the main story provides surprising depth. The film delivers refreshingly believable characters in a conventional narrative that makes Watercolors strikingly vivid.

by Kevin Sparrow

Earning a top spot as the opener for Los Angeles’ Outfest and Chicago’s Reeling Gay and Lesbian Film Festival, Breakfast with Scot has a definite mainstream appeal that charms audiences effortlessly. Employing the talents of the perpetually likeable Tom Cavanagh and a crew of mop-topped tots, Breakfast has all the makings of a family holiday hit. The NHL even gave it a go-ahead with an endorsement by the Toronto Maple Leafs, a historical first for a major sports organization. Unfortunately, its look into the lives of two gay partners raising a child has hampered its potential outside the festival circuit as it was brought to a limited release in the U.S. on October 12. Cavanagh and Ben Shenkman play couple Eric and Sam who, it seems, are only out to each other and their families. They are put in charge of a young boy, Scot (Noah Bernett) after a death in the family, and Eric is terrified that he will be a juvenile deliquent. Even worse, he turns out to be flamboyantly effeminate, creating a danger to the safe life Eric has created for himself since his injury as a hockey player (which is brought up with irritating regularity) years earlier. The film leads to a pat ending of coming to terms with one’s identity, but many complex elements are put into play that make the film a shade darker than the typical family comedy. The opening of the film establishes the subject of normalizing masculinity when a group of pre-teen boys witness a special practice of the Toronto Maple Leafs, leading to Eric’s injury. Along with this struggle between masculinity and femininity, Scot works on coming to an understanding of his mother’s death. Paired with the light-hearted approach the film tries to maintain, it leads to some tonal disparities, but for the most part, provides more gravity to the situation than would exist if the dark elements were whitewashed over. While it may not reach as wide an audience as a similar film with straight characters in the lead roles might, its good intentions and fine performances should help it live on as an alternative for families sick of treacly fare.