Even from the description, Elizabeth Swados book Walking the Dog sounds like a thrill; lauded as “a singular and unequaled artist,” this was the last published work that Swados wrote before she died in January of 2016. The book details the struggles of “former child prodigy and rich-girl kleptomaniac” Ester Rosenthal (aka Carleen Kepper) as she navigates a post-prison life as a high-end professional dog walker. The novel also maps the relationship between the ex-con protagonist and her hyper-religious Orthodox daughter.
The descriptions don’t do the novel justice—not only is this a story of a woman brutalized by a system that doesn’t understand or make space for those living with mental illness, it is also the story of art. And even more than that, it’s a story of the non-traditional love between a sometimes frustratingly troubled mother and her daughter.
The intro begins with the perfect summary sentence: “I’m not used to walking on grounds without fences.” Carleen (who was a child prodigy turned convict, and changed her name from Esther Rosenthal to Carleen Kepper in order to escape anti-Semitism in prison) succinctly parallels her post-release disorientation with that of training dogs. Fencing in, she says, is comforting. This is an unsettling thing for readers to read, yet somewhat intuitive, similar to receiving a diagnosis as opposed to not receiving one. Dogs need boundaries, people need boundaries.
But for Carleen/Esther there are, for better and worst, barely any boundaries. When they are presented to her, they are done so arbitrarily, or for reasons she doesn’t understand. Her brain works best within strict parameters. And while the novel does a phenomenal job of demonstrating a mind bent and harangued by the legal system, it also shows the nuance and multi-dimensionality of a person who has experienced chronic compound trauma.
This book is a beautiful and enthralling read. It manages to contain genius without presumption, illness without stigma, and characterization without oversimplification. The balance of these empathetic factors makes the novel a true work of art, and a must read.
Walking the Dog
By Elizabeth Swados
The Feminist Press
Paperback, 9781558619210, 392 pp.
– See more at: http://www.lambdaliterary.org/reviews/06/21/walking-the-dog-by-elizabeth-swados/#sthash.i75tGZlF.dpuf
It seems very apt that this highly emotional documentary that tells the poignant stories of 8 gay men who are long-time AIDS survivors is the work of The South Francisco Chronicle as it is Northern California’s largest newspaper and as such was always reporting more than most from the front line of the pandemic. Since 1981 when the first death was recorded in the city, some 20000 people in the City, mostly gay men, have died from AIDS. The film, the first one that the paper has ever produced, is part of a larger special report featuring interactive digital and print features by Chronicle reporter Erin Allday.
When these eight men were diagnosed back in the 1980’s all the medical advice they were given was ‘prepare to die very soon’, but they didn’t, and instead they had to sit by helplessly as their lovers and all their friends faced excruciating deaths instead. “By the time they died they were ready to let go, but I was never ready to let them go” said one very plaintively. They were all unprepared to survive the fierce regime of drugs that has left its marks …..one has neuropathy as a result. Now friendless and alone and approaching senior citizenship but without any of the usual savings or nest eggs, and with their disability allowances about to be drastically cut, they face major financial problems too.
Two of the men are partnered again, but for the most part what comes over in this very compelling film, is the overwhelming feeling of sadness from them. The tagline of the film sums it up beautifully “They had the remarkable luck to survive AIDS, and the brutal misfortune to live on.” One of men professes that there is not been one single day in the past three decades that he has not thought of suicide. Another is struggling to come to terms that he has been evicted from his home of 30 years on Castro and now he has to move to a trailer in Palm Springs as he simply cannot afford to stay in the city. He actually dies before the film is completed.
From whatever standpoint you come from, this movie is very tough to watch. It makes you remember those that we have personally lost to the epidemic and how we would have so loved them to have survived too. It also brings you up sharply to know that these eight men represent a whole generation that are now having to come to grips with the fact the virus didn’t kill them as 50% of those with HIV/AIDS in the US are now (mainly men) over 50 years of age.
The documentary written, produced and directed by Erin Brethauer and Tim Hussin does its best to end on a positive note at a Dance that has been mounted for the long-time AIDS survivor community (there are some 6000 in SF) and for one brief moment they forget their worries and just go with the music. It gives them, and us, some hope.
Klaus Mann, son of Thomas Mann, author of Mephisto, was one of the first in Germany to write gay novels and plays. Not since reading Judith Thurman’s excellent biography of Colette some years back, have I been so captivated by a piece of writing and scholarship and the creative life and historical period it captures. The reverberations with our own contemporary times are uncanny and raise provocative questions about the role of the queer artist in society, especially a society faced with the lure of fascism and anti-liberal conservatism.
Klaus was an early foe of Nazism, writing against the wave of nationalism, xenophobia and racism that was sweeping across his beloved Germany. While his father Thomas and writers such as Alfred Döblin and Stefan Zweig vacillated in truly denouncing Hitler early on, Klaus felt compelled to leave Germany and to undertake establishing the anti-Nazi journal, “Die Sammlung” (“The Collection”).
As a result, Klaus was blacklisted and denounced as “a dangerous half-Jew,” his books were burned around Germany and his German citizenship was revoked. Thus began a life of amazing courage, tragedy and struggle. As a homosexual and a drug addict who suffered from paralyzing bouts of depression and insecurities fostered by the formidable shadow of his famous but aloof and critical father, Klaus became a driven, prolific writer of novels, plays, essays as well as an excellent journalist and public speaker. Moving to the U.S. with his father and their large family, Klaus taught himself English and adopted English as his primary written language. Like his dear sister Erika, Klaus denounced the German people for embracing Nazism and destroying as well as polluting the literary traditions of German literature. After the War he remained incredulous that anti-Nazification was largely ignored and supporters of Hitler were allowed to resume their professional roles in Germany.
A case in point was Gustaf Gründgens, the famous stage actor whom Klaus had an affair with prior to the War. Gründgens, a homosexual, remained in Germany and embraced Hitler and supported the regime. Göring saw him perform in Goethe’s “Faust, Part 1” as Mephistopheles and was so moved that he forgave the actor his earlier communist indiscretions as well as his homosexuality. In return Gründgens was appointed head of the Berlin State Theater. To keep up appearances the actor was forced to marry the actress Marianne Hoppe. While Klaus suffered as an émigré in anonymity, forgotten and despised, Grüngens’ career thrived even after the War with no repercussions.
Grüngens became the model for Hendrik Höfgen, Klaus’s main character in his most celebrated novel, Mephisto. The story is about an actor who must make the choice between political and moral integrity and political and professional opportunism during the Third Reich. In fact, it was the threat of retaliation by Gründgens after the War that delayed publication of the novel until 1981, well after Klaus’s death (even though it was first published in 1936 in Amsterdam but banned in Germany).
Wrongly accused of being a communist, turned down by publishers who in the isolationist days of America were not interested in the plight of Europeans, despised by Germans for having become an émigré and refusing to remain silent, and perpetually broke, Klaus struggled on. His sexual relations were erratic and unsatisfying for most of his life, although he longed for a long-term relationship. Fame as a writer was elusive. Poor timing and ill luck were a good part of his destiny.
Finally in 1949 in Cannes he was found dead in his room at the age of forty-two, ruled a suicide, although a thorough investigation was never undertaken. Here Spotts makes a compelling case to show the many reasons why suicide was probably not the case and that death was most likely caused by accidental poisoning with sleeping tablets (interacting with other drugs already in his system resulting in unintended toxic effects). To the end, Klaus was engaged in plans for a new book project and despite being in sizeable debt appeared ready for life’s ongoing battles.
In retrospect, Klaus Mann was a queer hero of the twentieth century to be admired, a gay man who acted upon his convictions, endured continual disappointment and only achieved the fame he so greatly desired after his death. Drawing freely from Klaus’s daily journal, Spotts gives us the internal psychological and intellectual trajectory of a troubled genius.
Prescient to the rise of Nazism and its dangers, Klaus was the first writer to sound the alarm and contemplate the unthinkable. While others laughed at Hitler and dismissed his early triumphs in 1932 with provincial elections, Klaus was quick to pronounce the results a “horrifying victory of lunacy.” When others accepted the claim “that democracy was ineffective and only dictatorship ‘gets things done,’” and that Hitler’s movement was “a perhaps imprudent but fundamentally sound and acceptable revolt against the ineffectiveness of ‘high politics,’” Klaus countered in a letter by stating: “As for myself I want to have nothing, nothing at all to do with this perverse kind of ‘radicalism.’ I cannot help preferring the slowness and uncertainty of the democratic process to the devastating swiftness of those dashing ‘counter-revolutionaries.’”
Klaus felt that passive acceptance of the “illusions of fascism would lead to ‘a new war and the downfall of European civilization.’” He refused to accept that Nazism represented a respectable “conservative revolution.”
No one could believe that Hitler would come to power “—a case of what Freud called ‘knowing and not knowing.’” Klaus Mann felt that the “German people [were] basically very intelligent” and would reject Hitler. His confidence was dashed in 1933 when Hitler became chancellor. He fled to Paris and revealed that “the essential reason for exile,” “. . .was that we were forced away by our own disgust, our horror and our forebodings.” Would that we could all draw our own lessons from this artist’s tragic life and act on our convictions in times of political turmoil.
It seems very apt that this highly emotional documentary that tells the poignant stories of 8 gay men who are long-time AIDS survivors is the work of The South Francisco Chronicle as it is Northern California’s largest newspaper and as such was always reporting more than most from the front line of the pandemic. Since 1981 when the first death was recorded in the city, some 20000 people in the City, mostly gay men, have died from AIDS. The film, the first one that the paper has ever produced, is part of a larger special report featuring interactive digital and print features by Chronicle reporter Erin Allday.
When these eight men were diagnosed back in the 1980’s all the medical advice they were given was ‘prepare to die very soon’, but they didn’t, and instead they had to sit by helplessly as their lovers and all their friends faced excruciating deaths instead. “By the time they died they were ready to let go, but I was never ready to let them go” said one very plaintively. They were all unprepared to survive the fierce regime of drugs that has left its marks …..one has neuropathy as a result. Now friendless and alone and approaching senior citizenship but without any of the usual savings or nest eggs, and with their disability allowances about to be drastically cut, they face major financial problems too.
Two of the men are partnered again, but for the most part what comes over in this very compelling film, is the overwhelming feeling of sadness from them. The tagline of the film sums it up beautifully “They had the remarkable luck to survive AIDS, and the brutal misfortune to live on.” One of men professes that there is not been one single day in the past three decades that he has not thought of suicide. Another is struggling to come to terms that he has been evicted from his home of 30 years on Castro and now he has to move to a trailer in Palm Springs as he simply cannot afford to stay in the city. He actually dies before the film is completed.
From whatever standpoint you come from, this movie is very tough to watch. It makes you remember those that we have personally lost to the epidemic and how we would have so loved them to have survived too. It also brings you up sharply to know that these eight men represent a whole generation that are now having to come to grips with the fact the virus didn’t kill them as 50% of those with HIV/AIDS in the US are now (mainly men) over 50 years of age.
The documentary written, produced and directed by Erin Brethauer and Tim Hussin does its best to end on a positive note at a Dance that has been mounted for the long-time AIDS survivor community (there are some 6000 in SF) and for one brief moment they forget their worries and just go with the music. It gives them, and us, some hope.
Moises Serrano is 24 years old. He has lived in North Carolina for the past 22 1/2 years and is as American as apple pie. Except that he is not. His parents smuggled him and his two sisters across the Mexican border when he was just a baby, and he has been treated by the US Authorities as an undocumented resident ever since. He has also never really fit into any of his peer groups throughout his life. As he explained, as a light skinned Mexican he had trouble assimilating with either other immigrants or the local caucasians, and the fact that he was also small and gay made him even more of a misfit.
On the brink of suicide in his darkest moments when he was 21 years old he discovered that he had a ‘voice’. and all the indignities and inequities that he, and other undocumented residents came up against, now spurred him into fighting for justice. Suddenly this young man with just a basic high school education who had been barred from attending community college, had limited job opportunities, unable to get a driving license and concerned about being picked the authorities, became an outspoken activist. As the anti-immigration climate worsened with the rise of the Tea Party (the Klu Klux still hold meetings in his town) Moises, at a great personal risk, helped establish El Cambio, an organization committed to immigrant and migrant rights in North Carolina. Then there was no stopping him in as he found himself giving keynote speeches in schools, to community groups, local business leaders, city councils etc etc.
At the same time he also fell in love. It turned out that there was (literally) one other gay man in Yadkin County the rural backwater Moises lived in, and luckily Brandon turned out to be the perfect boyfriend. His new relationship is one of the reasons that Moises story goes from despair to one full of hope and a bright future, as he also lands himself a fully paid scholarship to a Liberal Arts College in N.Y.
He is one one of the lucky ones though. As federal and local politicians continue to reject any reasonable approaches to improve the lot of young undocumented residents and they actually bring in more draconian laws and practices then most undocumented residents such as Moises’s tax-paying law-abiding parents, will always live in real fear of losing their very existence and maybe permanently separated from their families.
This new documentary from filmmaker Tiffany Rhynard is the sheer joy that it is as Moises is this extraordinary selfless young man who is so passionate and emotional about every aspect of his life. Whether it be when he is on his soapbox demanding rights for his community, or nervously opening the letter from School to see if they will give him a scholarship, or just the coy way that he responds to Brandon’s acts of tenderness. He put the welfare of others before his own personal needs for so long, it just feels right that by the end he is making headway in both.
Forbidden is one of those wonderful feel-good movies that makes you appreciate that as long as there are Moises Serrano’s in the world, there is hope for all of us.
Some know how to whistle. Others merely blow air and spit. This skill cannot be learned from friends or You Tube videos. Either you’ve got it, or you don’t. And Gregg Shapiro…he’s got it.
How to Whistle is Shapiro’s second collection of short fiction, among other chapbooks. Set in myriad East Coast cities, these tales shine with an expert, balanced blend of heart, sex and comedy.
The flawless opener, “Autograph,” invites readers into 1980s Boston. While two friends embark on an evening fit for rock and roll gods, readers revel in Beantown’s classic landmarks like Paradise, Newbury Street and Metro. Shapiro affectionately asks readers, “What if you met your hero on the green line at midnight? What would you do?”
In “A Different Debra” Shapiro calls out the girl who once “waited tables for tips and wrote poems on napkins and the backs of order pads.” She is the girl who, years ago, dated Patti “who snuck in and out of (her) first floor bedroom window at all hours of the night, never using the front door ever.” Debra was once considered to be trouble. But do wayward gals remain wayward for eternity? What if the cool girl grows up to be uncool?
With “Money Changing Hands,” Shapiro delves into the culture of banking. More specifically, gay banking. Mr. Shapiro writes, “Much to your delight, all three of the tellers on the all-male teller line of the Boston bank are gay. You are the fourth. Now you can all play bridge.” Surrounded by “early-American-blue walls” and “brass wall sconces” our hero ‘s universe implodes when a gold-toothed robber enters his line.
One of the numerous stand-out selections, “6th & E” stars its own whistler. A young man is entranced, intrigued and preoccupied by a burly stranger who whistles at him through an open window. This flirtatious dance becomes a daily ritual. That is, until our protagonist receives an invitation.
How to Whistle is a tight, varied collection of stories. Shapiro’s descriptions are always taut, always gorgeous. Paired with well-drawn, full-bodied characters, How to Whistle can certainly be described as a stellar offering.
If Gregg Shapiro whistles your way, you’d be smart to stop, turn around and read him.
How to Whistle
By Gregg Shapiro
Lethe Press
Paperback, 9781590215586, 142 pp.
April 2016
– See more at: http://www.lambdaliterary.org/reviews/06/05/how-to-whistle-by-gregg-shapiro/#sthash.bYhbsIoJ.dpuf
Veteran French filmmaker André Téchiné may be the wrong side of 70 now but he shows in his latest movie that he still has a very firm grasp of the sensibilities of teenage boys coming of age. He is perfectly assisted by his co-writer Céline Sciamma the writer/director of quintessential adolescent gay movies such as Tomboy and Girlhood.
This is the story of two strikingly different high-school boys living in the French Pyrenees. Damien (Kacey Mottet Klein) is a pale effete boy who sports a diamond stud earring and excels at his academic work and cooking and self-defense. Tom (Corentin Fila) is a a biracial boy living with his adopted parents in a remote mountain farm that entails a 90 minute journey by foot and bus to get to school every day. He is determined to train to be a veterinarian when he graduates, but his school grades are so poor that he may have to abort that ambition. It seems that the only thing that these two total opposites have in common, is that they are both unpopular with their classmates and are always the very last two to be picked to play basketball.
For some unexplained reason the two boys loathe each other, and soon end up actually fighting in the school yard which almost gets them expelled. Unaware of this Damien’s Doctor mother Marianne (Sandrine Kiberlain) has to pay a house call on Tom’s mother Christine (Mama Prassinos) who is pregnant. As she has a history of miscarriages, Marianne has her hospitalized , and then suggests that Tom move in with her and Damien so that he can been close to both the hospital and the school.
This arrangement only serves to antagonize both boys who since their second warning by the School Principal have promised not to fight again, so instead they agree to sneak off into the mountains to battle it out once and for all.
They are both young men of few words and although they have a problem discussing how they feel, there is obviously a great deal of sexual tension just lying beneath the surface. Hate in this case, covers love, and when Damien eventually finds the courage to speak up, he tells Tom “I don’t know if I am into guys, or just you”.
Téchiné never ever lets us in as to where this relationship will lead too until the very end, but this uncertainty runs true because both boys are constantly struggling with recognizing their own sexuality. Both sets of parents are distracted …Tom’s by the impending birth, and Damien’s with his army helicopter pilot father becoming a casualty of the war in the Middle East … so the boys must deal with some of the more awkward aspects of growing up on their own. To their defense, they actually do quite a good job of it.
Superb performances particularly from young Klein and Fila, with the latter actually making his movie acting debut. The chemistry literally sizzled between them even when they were so angry with each other and seemed so removed from fulfilling the passion that was causing all this angst. Sandrine Kiberlain the two time César Award Winner (+ 6 nominations) was pitch perfect as the well-meaning mother who deals with an ever absent husband by relying so much on Damien as an outlet for her own feelings.
And then of course there was the very dramatic mountain settings that we first saw in the middle of a brutal winter ending up in a glorious summer.
Being 17 is nothing less than a superb coming-of-age story that is completely riveting to the very last frame, and will probably be come to be recognized as possibly Téchinés best movie to date.
When a struggling writer, HIV positive for 20+ years, accidentally deposits a $100 birthday check, he is dropped from his health plan for earning too much. In this new era of sort-of universal care, can he take on a helpless bureaucracy or come up with $3000 a month to buy meds on his own? “Pushing Dead” is Tom E. Brown’s first feature film and it is one of Frameline 40’s Spotlight Films, with three screenings, including one at the Castro Theater Saturday, June 18 at 6:30 p.m. and another at the Victoria Theater Saturday, June 25 at 9:15 p.m.
OUTwatch – Wine Country’s LGBTQI Film Festival showed your short film “The Tradesman’s Exit at their Pride Shorts on the River program. How personal is the subject matter of that short?
Not very personal. I hang out with my ten-year-old nephew a lot, so I thought it would fun to write something featuring grown-ups, but written from a ten-year-old’s perspective–I’m mad at you, so I’m going to break your stuff. I was hoping, even though the film is a little goofy, that people would connect with this guy and feel how satisfying it is for him to get closure.
Talk about making the leap from short films to your first feature “Pushing Dead?”
It didn’t feel like a huge leap, since I’ve been thinking about this feature for so long. It almost felt like a remake of a film I had made several times before in my head. It was a much bigger crew than I normally work with. That was the biggest difference. Things went very smoothly. I loved it. I can’t wait to do it again.
You attended the Sundance Institute’s Screenwriters and Directors Labs to workshop his feature project” Pushing Dead.” What was that experience like?
Amazing–both labs. They house you, feed you, throw talented folks in the room with you to advise–like Paul Thomas Anderson, Stanley Tucci, and Richard LaGravenese. It’s jarring to return to real life after the labs. Real life is awful (he typed, chuckling). Richard signed on after the labs as a producer of Pushing Dead and has been with me on this 16-year journey.
Tell me about writing the film’s screenplay. How did the premise of the film come to you? Did the sub-plots just develop during the writing process? Are your characters based on real folks?
I was writing about my fears. What if something happens to my insurance? What would I do? These pills cost 6 grand a month. That’s crazy. The characters aren’t based on real people, but there’s definitely a lot of me in there. I think that happens with most writers, you go to something close to you, because you know it’s authentic. I wrote it very quickly, because the Rockefeller Foundation got behind it based on the first few pages, and then the Sundance Institute gave me a deadline of thirty days to get it to them for consideration. I had a real rough outline when I sat down to write and the sub-plots all surfaced during that first draft—surprisingly close to what we shot.
The plot delves into some rather dark places despite much levity. How are you able to switch back and forth from drama to comedy in such a seamless and organic manner?
For me, that’s what life is like. It’s funny, it’s dark, frequently at the same time. Roday got it, so it was easy for me. He’s a remarkable actor. It’s a lot of fun when you trust your actors and let them go.
I’m thrilled to watch a film that focuses on a longtime survivor of HIV, because I know many. Unfortunately, I knew many who didn’t survive. Did you feel a sense of gravity and/or a need to present your lead character as a realistic representation of an HIV+ ma – even if there may be no such animal?
I’ve been positive for over thirty years, so I gave Roday the inside scoop. People deal with being HIV+ differently. Once I thought about it as a relationship, this thing HIV and I have, and I made peace with it, that’s when things got easier. HIV and I are hitched, and we need to get along.
I’m also thrilled that this banner year for Frameline is chalk full of character-driven, well-written American indies featuring gay men, which can’t be said of the past few years. Did you need to resist the temptation to go for the Hollywood brass ring by dumbing down your story and seeking a larger audience?
No, because of the humor and tone, I think this movie is really accessible. I hope it can find a big audience. It’s not going to be for everybody, but I think most will find something they can relate to.
I lived for eight years a few blocks from the intersection featured prominently in “Pushing Dead.” How important was it for you to feature SF as the specific setting for your film?
It’s a very San Francisco movie. The characters and situations feel very SF to me. I tried to capture the city in a subtle way. I’m happy with how it turned out. Feels real to me.
Your lead, James Roday, is both appealing and poignant as an HIV+ man working through some issues. Did I mention sexy?. How did you come to cast him?
He shares a manager with Danny Glover. Danny was attached for many years. The manager sent me Roday’s reel and I knew he was our man. It was such an easy decision. And I think Roday was really into doing something different. I can’t imagine a better “Dan Schauble.”
Not many filmmakers are fortunate enough to cast the likes of Danny Glover, Khandi Alexander, and Robin Weigert in supporting roles? Talk about working with such accomplished actors?
It’s nuts. They were all really amazing—and I’m not just saying that. I’m honored they signed on to do an AIDS comedy by some silly filmmaker guy that has only done a bunch of shorts. I think good actors like to take risks.
I don’t want to sound ageist – because I’m not spring chicken myself, but what was it like to be named one of the “25 New Faces of Indie Film” by Filmmaker Magazine in the company of mostly younger artists?
Actually, when they named me that, I was young—or at least younger. I think I was 32. I’m hoping they’ll start a “25 Old Faces” list.
Congratulations on “Pushing Dead’s” inclusion in Frameline40, a prominent slot in the schedule at the Castro Theater and three scheduled screenings. How does all that feel on your feature?
Frameline and I have a long history, so it makes a lot of sense for us to premiere this film together. They have always been really nice to me and this year is no different. They just added that third screening since our other screenings have filled up. Very excited to have our premiere at the Castro.
What’s up next for you?
I recently wrote a pilot for an episodic project called TENDERLOIN. I’m hoping to get that off the ground. It’s a comedy about life in my little neighborhood.
This shocking and rather provocative movie … the sophomore feature from Austrian actor turned director Klaus Händl deservedly won the prestigious Teddy Award for Best LGBT Feature Film at this year’s Berlin International Film Festival. It is there surprising that since then the reviews have been lukewarm at best, and even odder that it is not the violent aspect that has evoked the criticism but the way that Händl goes into great detail with the gay protagonists relationship as it shoots from one extreme to another. We certainly differ from this viewpoint as this powerful intense drama has remained very firmly in our conscious since we viewed it several days ago, and not for the controversial part of the story line, but for the sheer intensity it created as the couple in crisis struggled to deal with their feelings which seemed so out of control.
When the movie opens life seems positively picture-book perfect for the couple, and Stefan (Lukas Turtur) is a french horn player in the orchestra that his partner Andreas (Philipp Hochmair) manages. The live with their beloved tomcat Moses in a rather beautiful house in what looks like the Garden of Eden (for some unexplained reason there are several biblical references throughout). Blessed with a great set of really close friends who love to get together at their house for garden dinner parties where both the wine and the conversation never stop flowing. When the guests leave, and sometime even before they do, the two men cannot keep their hands off each other and have long make out sessions. This being a European film, those particular scenes are both extremely sensual and very explicit too.
Even when not having sex, the pair are an extremely tactile couple and seem to spend most of their time hanging out the house completely naked. However all this blissful happiness abruptly ends one day when Stefan has an uncharacteristic sudden outburst of violent anger with very grave consequences, which leads to a totally appalled and confused Andreas just shutting Stefan out of his life for all intents and purposes.
At first there is a lot of wailing and head banging, but when the grief starts to dissipate the two start to lead separate lives in their own home and now they are always fully clothed too. Then one day a reckless Stefan has an serious accident in the garden which causes him to the lose the sight in one eye, which results in a slight thawing on Andreas’s part. As both men are still struggling to try to understand the complex reasons behind Stefan’s scary outburst, they are also trying to evaluate their feelings towards each other to try and discover if they can ever salvage enough of their once perfect relationship to build a future and go forward.
The result of the temper tantrum is highly controversial aspect of the movie, but equally so is Andreas’s decision not to immediately leave the relationship after it occurred. This was not based on any practical reasons, but purely from his instinct that even though he coudn’t bear to allow Stefan to be intimate on any level at all with him, there was obvious still some very fine vein of hope/love of the possibility they could one day get through this together.
Drenched with some fine music on the soundtrack which like the plot went from happy to moody and melancholic, it is the two central nuanced performances of Turtur and Hochmair that keep you engaged to the very end and make this rather intense relationship so very believable even in the parts which were tough to rationalize over. And of course full credit should be given to Toni for being the perfect tomcat that every house would want.
It’s interesting to note that when the director was an actor he appeared in a couple of films directed by Michael Haneke, so maybe we shouldn’t be too surprised by the inclusion of the violent incident after all.
“Tomcat” will be shown at Frameline 40 Wednesday, June 22 at 9 p.m. at the Castro Theater in San Francisco.
“Freedom to Marry” director Eddie Rosenstein’s inspirational documentary will be shown Saturday, June 25 at 1:15 p.m. at the Castro Theater. The film traces the marriage equality movement’s historic progress. With probing profiles of Evan Wolfson, the founder of Freedom to Marry, Mary Bonauto, Civil Rights Attorney for GLAD, and many others who fought for all Americans right to marry who they love. The steady march towards the landmark Obergefell v. Hodges decision is no less thrilling because we know the outcome. “Freedom to Marry” may very well become not only a testament to the will of a group of people for their equal rights but as a manual for other groups anywhere who may need to do the same.
Congratulations Eddie on making such a beautiful, emotional, and enlightening film. Is “The Freedom to Marry” your first LGBT-themed film and if it is, what took you so long?
Thank you! It is my first LGBT themed film. Like most of my films, THE FREEDOM TO MARRY is simply about people I find heroic. In this case, the heroes just happen to be gay and lesbian.
Evan Wolfson is such a fascinating man and I think you really captured who he is and what motivates him. How much time did you spend with Evan, both at home, with his team, and in DC and how much of that footage made it into the film?
I’ve actually known Evan since I was little. We both grew up in Pittsburgh, our parents are friends and Evan has been a huge source of pride in our neighborhood for as long as I can remember. As adults, he and I both settled in New York City – I became a filmmaker, and he became as an activist. When it became apparent that ‘this was the year’ that the marriage movement crosses the finish line, I called and asked who was making ‘the film’. Since then, of course, we’ve spent a lot of time together, and it’s been great to reconnect.
Most of the scenes that I shot are, in fact, in the film. I think there’s probably only about a few scenes that I filmed with Evan that aren’t in the final film in some fashion. I try to be pretty economical as a filmmaker, and only shoot when I have a strong sense that what I’m shooting is part of the story. Of course, there is some ‘trial and error’ and exploration. But, it’s too hard on the budget and on the subjects to shoot without a sense of an overall plan.
You did a brilliant job capturing the emotional aspect of those fighting for marriage nationwide. You paint a wonderful portrait of Mary Bonauto. How did you go about getting her to reveal so much about her emotions?
I’d like to say it’s because I earned her trust, but the fact is – Mary is just Mary. Everyone mentions how brilliant, passionate, and fierce she is. But what blew my mind is how compassionate, committed and giving she is, too. And, as you can see, she’s amazingly emotional. She can be a molten volcano when she’s angry; she’s unbelievably loving and protective; and she’s like a human lightning rod when it comes to feeling the pain of others. I’m in awe of Mary and I’m so glad that she let us film her, and share some of her journey.
Tell us all about this special Michigan family and what it was like filming them?
In this film, I followed April DeBoer and Jayne Rowse, two of the main plaintiffs in the Obergefell Case. I chose April and Jayne because, to me, they seemed like the main plaintiffs in the case, plus they were the people whom Mary Bonauto was representing.
April and Jayne’s issue was whether or not they could get married, and therefore whether or not they could legally, jointly, parent their five adopted children in their home state. Those are pretty real stakes and, while all eight of the cases in Obergefell v. Hodges were important, April’s and Jayne’s story struck me, personally, the most viscerally.
These are two women who adopted sick and/or drug addicted infants. Can you imagine how big their hearts are? Meanwhile, the state of Michigan was claiming that they were unfit to marry, and that gay parents aren’t as ‘good’ as straight parents.
Straight people abandoned some of these children, and left them to die. April and Jayne nursed them all back to health. These are the kind of women it’s impossible not to root for, and that made them ideal plaintiffs and, of course, ideal characters for this film.
Is NOM president Brian Brown as creepy and ignorant in real life as he comes off on film? What was it like being in a confined space with him?
Even though so many people on the marriage side despise Brian Brown, I wanted to at least give the people opposed to same sex marriage an opportunity to express themselves. So I approached Brian with respect and an open mind.
Plus, my goal has always been to make a film that doesn’t ‘shut out the other side’, but instead gently puts a human face on the situation, and thereby furthers real conversation. I never want to simply preach to the converted.
The only problem was, by the time I got to filming, most if not all of the arguments against same sex marriage had been debunked. Take, for example, the classic: “Children are better off with a mother and a father.”
Well, almost half the kids in this country are being raised by single moms, so that doesn’t work. Plus, same sex marriage has been around long enough, now, that there is data available. And all the studies show that, with regards to raising children, the sexual orientation of their parents doesn’t seem to factor in at all. Plus, of course marriage is not only about procreation. Older people get married. Infertile people get married. Lots of marriages do not result in children. We don’t require married couples to to have children, and we don’t force them to divorce if they don’t.
Another big argument is that, “This violates our religious beliefs.” Well, that may or may not be true, but marriage isn’t actually about religion. It is a civil institution. A marriage certificate is a legal contract, given out by the government, not by the church.
In other words, during the course of making this film, it became increasingly clear to me that there were no real reasons for Brian or anyone to legitimately oppose same sex marriage. I wasn’t creeped out by Brian – he’s a nice enough guy, in most respects. But I hope that someday he realizes that he has made a career out of inciting hatred and spreading discrimination. And, while he likes to try to pretend otherwise, this is not a theoretical debate. When people like put that much time and effort into spreading hatred and intolerance, real people experience real harm.
I cannot count the number of equality rallies and ACT-UP protests I’ve been to and always right next to us would be the religious fanatics with their giant bloody crucifixes, offensive signs, and ratty bibles. They can be quite aggressive and threatening. Is it just me or do they really ramp it up when the cameras are on?
I agree. They totally ramp it up when the cameras are on. They’re want the attention, and cameras are the megaphone they want.
“Freedom to Marry” has its ‘stars,’ but every single one of the ‘supporting cast’ is just as captivating. How difficult was it to select which individual person and their story you would include in the film?
It was incredibly difficult, because so many people gave so much. And I feel terrible about all the people who I was not able to include.
And it’s not only the famous attorneys, civil rights leaders and plaintiffs who deserve a shout out. I think a lot about the millions of LGBT people who shared their stories at the dinner table, or at work, or knocked on doors at the homes of strangers in order make their voices heard. Many of these folks really put their own family, community, job, happiness and safety at risk. In the end, that’s what’s amazing about this story, and that’s why we finally have the freedom to marry in America.
“Freedom to Marry” should be used by any group struggling to achieve equal rights and you expertly show us how marriage equality was achieved. Did you work closely with your subjects and/or other experts to create the structure of your film or was it something that came about organically?
I always hoped, in addition to a being a character driven story, and an important part of the historical record, that this film could offer some sort of a roadmap about how to effect social chance. That was one of the reasons I made this film, to begin with, and figuring out how to juggle those elements was one of the most interesting creative challenges, from the start.
It can be tough to keep an audience engaged when they basically know how your film will conclude, but you do so seemingly effortlessly. How much did this concern you during the process of making your doc?
Funny, some people tried to convince me not to make this film about trying to win this case, for exactly the reason you mention – because, by the time we finished the film, audiences would already know what happened, so maybe just tell the historical story. But, I thought this could be more powerful if it wasn’t just a history film. I thought that, if we could bring audiences close to the main characters and figure out how to make an epic story really intimate, that audiences would get lost in the moment, and come along for the ride. Plus, not everyone knows the story. Plus, a back stage pass to one of the most important civil rights movement of our time is going to feel even more precious, as time goes on.
You are a better man than I for not mentioning and lambasting the organization that in my opinion co-opted marriage equality even though they refused to believe fighting its way through the courts was the way to go. Did you feel that you needed to turn the focus back on the Mary, Evan, Freedom to Marry, and company and away from HRC?
A movement requires a lot of people, and everyone has a role. I obviously couldn’t include everyone, simply because it’s impossible to do that in a single film.
You really set the record straight. Your film will stand as the record of the LGBT Community’s struggle for marriage equality. Did you feel the magnitude of getting it just right, packing in all the pertinent information, and hitting those pivotal moments?
I totally felt the magnitude of that responsibility, and I still do!
I’m thrilled, Gary, that you like the film so much. But, of course, I’m bracing myself to hear from people who don’t.
Luckily, we can be sure that this movement will be studied in many of ways, for many years. We can be sure that there will books, theses and other films to help fill the gaps, and to tell the story from different perspectives. In fact, one of the projects on my own to-do list, is a ten part series that tells the whole story, chapter and verse. It’s an amazing American story, that’s for sure. I hope I can put that together.
At the same time he also fell in love. It turned out that there was (literally) one other gay man in 
Téchiné never ever lets us in as to where this relationship will lead too until the very end, but this uncertainty runs true because both boys are constantly struggling with recognizing their own sexuality. Both sets of parents are distracted …Tom’s by the impending birth, and Damien’s with his army helicopter pilot father becoming a casualty of the war in the Middle East … so the boys must deal with some of the more awkward aspects of growing up on their own. To their defense, they actually do quite a good job of it.
Even when not having sex, the pair are an extremely tactile couple and seem to spend most of their time hanging out the house completely naked. However all this blissful happiness abruptly ends one day when Stefan has an uncharacteristic sudden outburst of violent anger with very grave consequences, which leads to a totally appalled and confused Andreas just shutting Stefan out of his life for all intents and purposes.
of the movie, but equally so is Andreas’s decision not to immediately leave the relationship after it occurred. This was not based on any practical reasons, but purely from his instinct that even though he coudn’t bear to allow Stefan to be intimate on any level at all with him, there was obvious still some very fine vein of hope/love of the possibility they could one day get through this together.
