My top five gay romances in film

It was a good day in Australia yesterday.

Although marriage equality was not passed, the results of a non-binding postal vote were indeed read. And that vote told the politicians, who would actually have the power to legalize gay marriage in Australia, that the citizens themselves are not opposed to the idea.

Sixty-one percent of those who responded to the vote, in fact, felt this way. After Brexit and Trump, someone finally stuck it to the right wing.

Having missed various landmark moments in the U.S. fight to legalize gay marriage, I've decided to use this symbolic moment instead to post my top five gay romances in film.

Unfortunately, given the traditionally straight-leaning tendencies of cinematic history and my own viewing patterns -- there's plenty of queer cinema out there, but I only actively seek out the most prominent examples -- some of my choices may seem like fairly flimsy examples of compelling gay relationships. Either they are not central to the movie, or they are not the first thing you notice about that particular movie. And there may be some obvious examples I am excluding, either because I thought they were too obvious or because they just don't happen to hit my personal sweet spot. (Much as I like it, Brokeback Mountain is kind of an example of both.)

But this is what I've chosen, and I hope some of these qualify as personal sweet spots for you as well.

Listed alphabetically by title of the movie:

1) But I'm a Cheerleader (2000, Jamie Babbitt) - Megan & Graham

I had occasion to praise this film only a few weeks back on this blog when I revisited it for the first time in a decade. It was my most obvious candidate for this list, as it tells the story of lesbian-in-denial Megan (Natasha Lyonne) and lesbian-in-full-flower Graham (Clea Duvall), who discover their love for each other at a camp intended to cure them of their homosexuality. Not only is the development of their relationships sweet and disarmingly free from cynicism, but it culminates (spoiler alert!) in my favorite homosexual variation on that scene at the end of most romances where the guy completes a grand gesture in order to win the girl back. As it turns out, a girl and a girl can do this too.

2) Confetti (2006, Debbie Isitt) - Archie & Gregory

This mockumentary about a reality show in which people compete to stage the most original themed wedding would seem to focus on the three heterosexual couples competing on the show. But at the true center of the film is the two men helping plan all three weddings, who are also romantic partners. Vincent Franklin and Jason Watkins each play the character Christopher Guest would have played if he'd made this movie, but roles that seem to have been written as comic relief take on real heft as the film becomes sneakily emotional. As the two wedding planners succumb to stress and the emotional toll of the task they're involved in, the strength of their own relationship is emphasized amid the revelation that the others in question don't have nearly their solid foundation.

3) Four Weddings and a Funeral (1994, Mike Newell) - Gareth & Matthew

My second straight choice in which the gay couple is tellingly looking in from the outside on multiple weddings. Only after Gareth (Simon Callow) has died at one of these weddings do the characters in his social group, who had previously thought themselves all hopelessly single, acknowledge that Gareth and Matthew (John Hannah) were for all intents and purposes married. They modestly yield the spotlight to others, but when it's time to honor his passed partner, Matthew takes the moment and delivers one of the most heartfelt and memorable poetic eulogies in film. It's because I love this movie so much that I can nearly recite W.H. Auden's "Funeral Blues."

4) Love is Strange (2014, Ira Sachs) - Ben & George

Ben (Alfred Molina) and George (John Lithgow) are the one couple on my list who do get to marry -- and it ruins them. The pictures of his wedding on social media cause Ben to lose his teaching job at an uptight private school, which had been keeping the couple afloat in their expensive New York apartment. Once they must sell and look for other arrangements, they are forced apart by the prejudices of society and the realities of finance, though their love and affection for one another never wavers. Theirs is a mature love that insists on focusing on the positive and proceeding forward without regret, as these two old souls seem to exchange glances that say, unmistakably, "This is the way the world goes."

5) Philadelphia (1993, Jonathan Demme) - Andy & Miguel

We don't get to see Andy Beckett (Tom Hanks) and his lover Miguel (Antonio Banderas) together all that often in this movie, as the focus of the movie is (rightly) Andy's legal battle to retain his job and his relationship with the lawyer (Denzel Washington) he hires to represent him. But their few scenes together are powerhouses, demonstrating the type of unconditional love of which most straight couples could only dream. Even though it was Andy cheating on Miguel that infected him with AIDS, and that that infidelity could have even infected Miguel with the virus, Miguel is fiercely loyal toward his lover and at his bedside, literally and figuratively, during every stage of his decline. If they don't have the "in sickness and in health" part of marriage down, I don't know who does.

Honorable mentions:

1) Kissing Jessica Stein (2002, Charles Herman-Wurmfeld) - Jessica & Helen

I felt bad having only one female couple on here, but Jessica couldn't quite crack my top five for the slight problem that its title character is really a heterosexual experimenting with homosexuality. But I love this movie and the relationship between these characters is sweet and honest.

2) Flirting With Disaster (1996, David O. Russell) - Paul & Tony

Got to get a straight (to use the word loosely) comedy on here. You wouldn't at first think this movie contains the most forward portrayal of a gay relationship, but there's something so easy and comfortable about the relationship of the two buttoned-up ATF agents who join the wacky road trip at the center of this movie.

As gay marriage moves closer to being the law of the land everywhere in the world -- though it may take some countries another century to get there -- I hope that searching my list of favorite films won't produce so relatively few contenders for a list like this. But it stands to reason that the more it's accepted, the more we'll see more movies featuring both central and side gay relationships ... as many as possible of which will end in marriage.

I finally saw: The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill But Came Down a Mountain

It looks like I was scratching a lot of long-gestating cinematic itches this past weekend. First From Dusk Till Dawn on Saturday, then this on Sunday.

And what was so significant about finally seeing The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill But Came Down a Mountain?

Well, I'll tell you.

The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill But Came Down a Mountain has long been my go-to movie when looking for an example of something with an unwieldy title or something that would sound fairly arcane. In fact, I just searched, and I've used it that way exactly four times on my blog. Here are the examples:

4/16/09: Lame of name

"And without even a memorable title to distinguish them, these films endure no better than half-remembered trailer fragments. Two years after they've left theaters, they're totally gone from even the bear-trap minds of the hardcore cinephiles.

The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill But Came Down a Mountain? Now there's a film I can remember."

3/26/10: How (not) to advertise your movie

"If they really didn't think we would be able to handle the outrageous grammatical complexity and highfalutin vocabulary of the title How to Train Your Dragon, they should have called it something else. It's not like it's The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill But Came Down a Mountain. It's not like it's Borat: Cultural Learnings of America For Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan."

8/14/10: Tainted!

"Both Mission: Impossible III and Inside Man were part of the initial 300-400 movies they give you automatically when you first join Flickchart, movies that are considered the most popular. (They do this so that new Flickcharters aren't immediately confronted with My Dinner With Andre and The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill But Came Down a Mountain)."

8/3/12: No "short wait" to revisit the original

"If a title is really popular -- say, Star Wars -- then Netflix probably keeps a dozen copies at any given distribution center. (I'm just throwing out numbers here -- I only have a vague idea of how large each distribution center is, and how many distribution centers there are.)  But if the movie is not very popular -- say, The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill But Came Down a Mountain -- then one or two copies per center would suffice."

Yeah, maybe I need to choose a new movie to use in this scenario. Actually, I have done so already, and would do so more if I didn't have to look up the damn title -- Jeanne Dielman, 23 Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles -- every time.

The Englishman had been on our instant queue for some time, and it was one of the top three movies my wife seemed most enthusiastic about every time we passed it, so I knew it would get watched sooner rather than later. Sunday night, that time finally came, and I felt like I was finally putting my money where my mouth was.

Actually, there were reasons other than my love affair with the title that I might have seen this movie sooner. In my mind, I've been carrying on a love affair with its lead actress -- you know, the kind that takes place between a movie lover and an exquisitely charming star -- for nearly 20 years. I became smitten with British actress Tara Fitzgerald when I first saw her in A Man of No Importance back in 1994. I then saw her in Sirens (which I did not like very much) and Brassed Off! (which I liked quite a bit), but never (until now) saw her only other prominent movie ... well, ever. (She transitioned to being a TV actress pretty much full time in the mid-2000s, having made a handful of movies I've never heard of in the early part of that decade.) There's just something so button cute about this woman.

I also consider myself a Hugh Grant fan, so there's that as well.

So how did Hugh, Tara and the movie acquit themselves? And most importantly -- that title. Is it literal, or metaphorical?

Well, let's start with the title. It's most definitely literal. In fact, the premise of the possibly true story is quite wonderful, and makes the movie fit in well with the late 1990s trend of blue collar Brits banding together to overcome obstacles (see The Full Monty, Saving Grace and especially Waking Ned Devine, to which this movie is most similar). The "Brits" in this case are actually citizens of Wales, though there are two proper Englishmen in the movie as well (Grant and his stuffy compatriot, played by Ian McNeice). The Englishmen are in Wales (during World War I) for the purposes of cartography. They're using new technology to document the height of Wales' tallest supposed mountain -- which, if it does not exceed 1,000 feet, can only technically be classified as a hill. Swelling with local pride over the difficult-to-pronounce protuberance known as Ffynnon Garw ("Rough Fountain"), the citizen of the town agonize while waiting for the two mapmakers' final analysis of its true height. When Ffynnon Garw comes up just short, the townspeople conspire to artificially add 20 feet of height to their hill, to make it a mountain -- yet must also waylay the two mapmakers in the small village long enough for them to take a second reading, without letting on that that's what they're doing.

Although it's not as memorable nor quite as good as the films mentioned above, it's a damn charming little movie that mostly stays on course. Grant is not in full-on stammering mode, but he does have a couple great comic deliveries, most notably on his several attempts to pronounce the hill's name. He stumbles through these attempts in trademark Grant style, his eyes pleading for help out of a paralysis brought on by awkwardness. Fitzgerald doesn't really show up until the second half of the movie, but that's enough time to have seduced me again with her charms -- though never to the extent that she did in A Man of No Importance (which came out the previous year). Her role is a bit of a comedic one, and leads to some of the film's broadest moments -- not necessarily a good thing. Colm Meaney is worth mentioning as an innkeeper with questionable morals, who brings plenty of good cheer to the proceedings as well.

But perhaps the film's most unexpected surprise is the significant role essayed by Kenneth Griffith. Don't know who that is? I didn't know his name either, but I instantly knew his face, from the film that introduced Grant to most of us: Four Weddings and a Funeral, which happens to be a personal favorite of mine. Here he is in that film:

Still don't remember him? How about this hilarious exchange between his character (who we shall call "Old Man") and Grant's Charles during the first wedding?

Charles: How do you do, my name is Charles.
Old Man: Don't be ridiculous. Charles died 20 years ago.
Charles: Must be a different Charles, I think.
Old Man: Are you saying I don't recognize my own brother?

It's funny even in print, but the senile indignation mustered by Griffith just pushes it over the top.

I think I'd always assumed that this was just some random old man, perhaps a relative of one of the filmmakers, who had never been heard from before or since. Turns out that Griffith had over 100 credits in movies and TV, starting as long ago as 1941. (He died in 2006 at age 84.)

You might say that a little of him goes a longer way, but he's still quite enjoyable in the role of the parish priest, conflicted about asking his parishioners to work on the Sabbath to meet a deadline, but swelling with enough mountain pride to overcome his hesitations. I have to wonder if the actor himself had become a bit senile by this point, as his emotions don't always seem to be on the same page as the other actors' -- a couple times he even seems to be tearing up when the scene doesn't necessarily call for it. But he also produces a couple of those priceless looks of shocked befuddlement that seared him into my memory the first time I ever laid eyes on him, back in 1994.

Looking for a third straight I Finally Saw tomorrow? Too bad. I haven't finally seen anything else since Sunday.

Anyone but Andie MacDowell

Two of the last three movies I've revisited have been Groundhog Day and Four Weddings and a Funeral.

These are both films I love, but as it happens, they were both chosen by my wife. Four Weddings and a Funeral was her choice from our own DVD collection when we failed to prepare a rental for Valentine's Day. And last night, when I'd carried the taco makings and shells freshly removed from the oven into the living room, she'd tuned the TV to Bravo to watch Groundhog Day. Needless to say, I was more than pleased to watch both. It was probably my seventh viewing of Four Weddings, my fourth of Groundhog Day.

But seeing them both within the space of ten days reminded me of the other, primary thing they have in common. In fact, I've associated these movies in my mind over the years, for one specific reason:

They would both be even better without Andie MacDowell.

Over the years, I've made the argument to whoever would listen that literally any other actress of similar stature could have played these roles better. And most people will listen to that argument. In fact, in my travels, I've discovered that most people have at least a mild dislike for Ms. MacDowell.

On some level this feels uncharitable. She is, after all, a model-turned-actress, and she's only doing her best. Plus, she seems like a genuinely nice person, the kind of old-fashioned Southerner who might believe in old-fashioned Southern hospitality.

But man is she a bad actress.

She seems to be trying very hard, and not succeeding. No matter what expression is on her face, there's always a look of strain behind her eyes. Then again, I guess that could just be how she looks.

And to be fair, I have to admit something a bit sexist here -- I probably wouldn't be quite so critical of her if I were slightly more attracted to her. I think that's the thing that's always puzzled me about MacDowell, as well -- not only did I not understand how she was an actress, but I especially didn't understand how she was a model-turned-actress. In order to do that, you have to first be a model.

And that look of strain, for want of a better way to describe it, is part of her natural appearance. Not only is that a problem for her modeling -- I'd think it would be a put-off to most people, and it certainly is to me -- but it's a problem for her acting, as she doesn't seem to be able to make it go away. Part of being a good actor is that you have total control over your facial features. Andie MacDowell does not.

Yet there's no doubt she has something, something that led her to be cast in Steven Soderberg's sex, lies and videotape (1989). That wasn't her first role -- she had flailed in Greystoke: The Legend of Tarzan, Lord of the Apes (1984) and St. Elmo's Fire (1985). But Soderbergh saw some potential in that flailing, and it was after sex, lies and videotape that she started getting cast regularly. I thought she was particularly overmatched in Green Card (1990). I haven't seen that movie since a couple years after it came out, but I still remember releasing a couple shocked bursts of laughter at how poorly she acted some of her key scenes. I guess I was in the minority on this one, or else it's just another proof of the poor judgment of the Hollywood Foreign Press, because this performance received a Golden Globe nomination.

MacDowell's luck continued when she caught the attention of another maverick director, Robert Altman, appearing in a cameo as herself in The Player (1992), and then as a character in Short Cuts (1993). Even though I saw The Player again only a couple months ago, I don't remember her in it. But if I had to guess, I'd say she was probably not very successful even at playing herself. I'm overdue to see Short Cuts again, and will be sure to be on MacDowell watch when I do.

Then came the improbable peak of MacDowell's career, with Groundhog Day (1993) and Four Weddings and a Funeral (1994) in the space of two years. Groundhog Day is considered to be one of Bill Murray's best movies, which is really saying something, and Four Weddings and a Funeral even received a surprise (but richly deserved) Oscar nomination for best picture.

Even as I've savored ever detail of both these movies, the one thing I've never understood is how Murray or Hugh Grant could have fallen head over heels for MacDowell. There are no specific moments of terrible acting in Groundhog Day, but MacDowell basically torpedoes the ending of FWAAF, which might have been its worst part no matter who played the role. "Is it raining? I hadn't noticed," she says, about as unconvincingly as you could image. Then there's the hilarious line where she puts the em-PHA-sis on the wrong syl-LA-ble:

Charles: Let me ask you one thing. Do you think - after we've dried off, after we've spent lots more time together - you might agree *not* to marry me? And do you think not being married to me might maybe be something you could consider doing for the rest of your life?
Carrie: I do.

Print doesn't do justice to it, but maybe you remember how she says "I do" here -- with all the emphasis on the word "I" and none of it on "do."

Back to our regular timeline.

By the mid-1990s, the market finally corrected itself for Andie MacDowell. She made prominent features for the next couple years -- Bad Girls, Michael, Multiplicity, Muppets from Space -- but by the year 2000 had pretty much stopped showing up on movie posters. It seems hard to avoid noting that this drop in prominence coincided with her 40th birthday. I'd instead like to think MacDowell was just long overdue to be put out to pasture. Oh, she's worked in the last decade, but you haven't heard of most of the movies. Ginostra? The Last Sign? Tara Road? She was part of the ensemble in Beauty Shop (2005), but it's worth noting that the other most prominent role she had last decade involved her voice only, as Etta the Hen in the animated movie Barnyard (2006).

Like I said earlier, it seems uncharitable to take any kind of pleasure in MacDowell's eventual disappearance from the spotlight. Never would I want to root for anyone to fall victim to Hollywood's cruelty toward its aging female stars. My whole point is that I don't know how she got a chance to be one of those aging stars in the first place. Seeming like a nice person should not have been enough.

Well, who would I like to see in Groundhog Day and Four Weddings and a Funeral, to make those films even better?

No one.

That's right, for all she doesn't bring to those movies, she's a part of them. And with movies you love, you love them warts and all. You wouldn't change a thing.

Would I have preferred it if Linda Fiorentino had played Phil Conners' kind-hearted but sarcastic producer, or if Madeleine Stowe had played Charles' free-spirited American love interest?

Not if there was any chance I'd like either of these movies a smidgen less.