June 1st marked the beginning of international Pride Month, a month devoted to the celebration of our sexual and gender differences.There are probably a hundred reasons I should have known about this, but if you can believe it, I learned about it because baseball's Oakland A's were having a Pride Day on Saturday in which they were giving out unicorn fanny packs. Yes, you read that correctly -- unicorn fanny packs. When Joe Biden sent me an email about it, I realized it was a month-long recognition of the members of our society we had previously refused to acknowledge, not only but perhaps especially the sports world.
Without consciously being aware of Pride Month, or intentionally curating my viewing schedule in any way, I watched four movies featuring gay relationships in the past week.
Here they are, chronologically, with some thoughts on each.
Freeheld (2015, Peter Sollett)
The only of the four films featuring a lesbian relationship, Freeheld was my choice for another no-borrow, daytime library viewing, as first discussed in this post. At the time I wrote that post, I did not envision myself getting a chance to go watch a movie at the library without borrowing it again, as I expected to be at work this past week. Well, due to stupid paperwork issues that I won't get into now, I missed a second week of work recovering from my dislocated/fractured shoulder. Who am I kidding, I enjoyed it. So I found myself at the library again, a different library, this past Tuesday.
Freeheld documents the real-world case of Laurel Hester (Julianne Moore) and her girlfriend Stacie Andree (Ellen Page), domestic partners who were not allowed to marry in mid-2000s New Jersey. Hester, a police officer, was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer, and wanted to give her pension to Andree, a mechanic, so she could hold on to the house they owned together. The local community freeholders interpreted the law differently than Hester and Andree did, leading to a social justice movement to clarify the law and get Andree the benefits she deserved.
I was worried about Freeheld from a filmmaking standpoint, as it is not particularly subtle in its script or dialogue. There are a number of poorly constructed scenes, especially in the first half. Typically strong performances from Moore, Page and Michael Shannon really help things, though, and I didn't even mind the flamboyant work of Steve Carrell as a gay Jewish attorney, though some homosexual viewers might. By the end I was really caught up in it and it "got a little dusty in the room," as the hosts of the Filmspotting podcast are fond of saying.
Love is Strange (2014, Ira Sachs)
It was an unintentional gay double feature on Tuesday, as I'd already planned to rewatch one of my favorite films of 2014, Love is Strange, that night. The Freeheld viewing was the random, opportunistic one.
I wanted to watch this movie again as I am considering which films qualify as my favorite of the decade, a list I will be publishing next January. It tells the story of an aging gay couple in New York (John Lithgow and Alfred Molina), who have been together for nearly 40 years but have only just gotten the right to marry. Unfortunately, just by posting pictures of his honeymoon on social media, Molina gets the axe by the Catholic school that employs him as a music teacher, which feels he has forced their hand on something they had been previously willing to overlook. The loss of his job forces them to sell their apartment, and while looking for a new place to live, the newlyweds must live separately with relatives and friends.
What made this one of my favorite films of that year was its modest scale, its humanism and its lovely heart. Not everyone behaves as the best version of themselves at every point in this movie, as sharing close quarters with overstaying house guests tends to bring out people's worst. But Sachs is a master of the day-to-day indignities and grace notes of life and love, and is constantly enriching us with his perceptiveness. He's gotten wonderful performances up and down the cast as well. It's a political statement about equality and gay marriage delivered in a purposefully small and unassuming package, and it's got poignancy and warmth to spare.
Keep the Lights On (2012, Ira Sachs)
Sachs was responsible for two consecutive viewings in my Pride Week, as I found his fourth film, Keep the Lights On, at the library during Tuesday's visit. Having loved Love is Strange, I had always meant to see this, but never before seen it on the shelves. I watched it Thursday night.
Lights is the story of a Danish documentary filmmaker (Thure Lindhardt) and his relationship with a drug-addicted boyfriend (Zachary Booth) circa the turn of the century, for about a decade. The plot is less about any particular events in their lives and more about the progression of those lives as the former tries to see the latter through his addiction, with breakups, reunions, and other characters mixing in. It's semi-autobiographical about Sachs' own relationship with a literary agent who suffered from addiction (but had made it public previously with his own memoir).
Because this is not a mainstream film per se (despite featuring Julianne Nicholson), and more aptly described as queer cinema, I thought it was Sachs' first film. In fact, he'd made three others, including one I've seen that has nothing to do with homosexuality as far as I remember (2007's Married Life). I guess I figured he'd start with the more niche film, given that his subsequent (and previous) films have had A-list actors, but maybe a film like this is only something you can make once you've built up a little bit of artistic capital. Having thought it was his first film while I was watching it, though, I forgave its grainier look as well as a frequently rough performance from Lindhardt in the lead role.
Given that I don't often see films that I would categorize as "queer cinema" (as opposed to mainstream cinema with gay elements), I was concerned that I didn't like it anywhere near as much as the gentler and more mainstream Love is Strange. Love is love, and I can get into a love story featuring anybody, but tell that to the neurotic part of my brain that worries about how these things are perceived. Still, I can genuinely say I came around on the movie and found it moving at times, and that Lindhardt's performance gained confidence as the movie proceeded -- or maybe just as I got accustomed to his limitations.
Rocketman (2019, Dexter Fletcher)
The final film in my Pride Week, the one that made me finally take notice of the theme I'd stumbled across, was the new Elton John biopic, and it was another film I had not expected to be seeing when I saw it Friday afternoon. In fact, I went into the doctor's office for an appointment fully expecting to go into work for the rest of the day once the doctor had officially cleared me to return. But after waiting for two hours to see the doctor, I started thinking it seemed silly to go in to work for just the second half of the day on Friday. Checking my phone, I saw that Rocketman was starting within the hour at a theater near the hospital.
Fletcher's film is of course the story of the rise to fame, and subsequent drug addiction, of one of the greatest performers and songwriters of the second half of the 20th century. It's amusingly similar to the last film Fletcher touched, which was Bohemian Rhapsody, another story of a flamboyant gay musician who came on the scene in the 1970s. Fletcher of course picked up the pieces on that film after Bryan Singer was fired, though Singer retained the directing credit as per DGA rules.
Although the biopic is a form that justifiably leaves a person wary, most recent biopics have attempted to get past the traditional limitations of the form. Rocketman is no exception, as it has numerous flights of fancy and musical numbers that give it a lot in common with a Baz Luhrmann film. You've got magical realism as well as Taron Egerton's John attending an alcoholics anonymous meeting dressed in a red costume with devil horns and angel wings. In short, I really enjoyed it, especially at the beginning. Egerton delivers a really nuanced performance, and gives real depth to John's struggles with his own sexuality and how those around him receive it.
Now that I know this is Pride Month I suppose I may honor gay filmmaking and movies about gay subject matter in a more conscious way. But I'm not sure I'll be able to top the unconscious week that kicked it off.
