AGLIFF 2014: BOY MEETS GIRL

Ricky (Michelle Hendley) in Boy Meets Girl. 

Gender fender 

By Don Simpson

Being born with male genitalia did not stop Ricky (Michelle Hendley) from evolving into a strong and beautiful young woman; but despite her courageousness, living a transgendered life in a quaint, backwoods Virginian town, Ricky still lacks the confidence to enter the dating scene as an unabashed woman. Ricky’s best friend, Robby (Michael Welch), remains faithfully at her side, as she flounders around aimlessly. Anyone who meets Ricky and Robby immediately suspects that Robby is just observing from the sidelines, in the hopes that Ricky will one day be ready to date him. Meanwhile, Ricky sees fashion school in New York City as her one key to escaping the mind-numbing monotony of small town life. At the very least, New York City is certain to have a more open-minded dating pool for Ricky to peruse.

Enter Francesca (Alexandra Turshen), the fiancé of a socially conservative Marine and daughter of wealthy Tea Partying parents. Ricky and Francesca are both taken aback by the magnetic chemistry they unexpectedly share. Since Ricky still has a functioning penis, they are able to enjoy heterosexual intercourse, but everything else about their relationship seems as if they are two women hopelessly smitten with each other. Needless to say, it is a confusing relationship for everyone — including Ricky and Francesca — to understand. When it comes down to it, their connection is in no way related to their respective genders. It might sound a bit cheesy, but Ricky and Francesca are trying to listen to their hearts and nothing else.

Writer-director Eric Schaeffer’s Boy Meets Girl is about developing enough self-confidence to not care about what anyone else thinks; to be one’s true self and not what everyone wants you to be; to feel accepted and loved despite any perceived eccentricities or warts. Eschewing the crippling term “normal” and admirably avoiding presenting Ricky as an “Other,” Schaeffer’s film speaks to the importance of tossing aside the labels that inherently alienate human beings.

A rare feat for an outsider, Schaeffer seems to capture the life of a transgender woman with profound authenticity and positivity. Hendley masters the role of Ricky as if it was her own story. One can only assume that Hendley and other transgender women collaborated in the development of the script, as many moments seem far too honest to have been penned by someone who did not experience these situations firsthand.

But Boy Meets Girl is not strictly a transgender or LGBTQA film, it is a film about understanding and acceptance, universal themes that clearly transcend gender and sexual orientation. Deeply exploring issues of shame, judgment and hatred in the context of the ever-blurring lines of gender, Schaeffer still finds a way to make a film that is significantly more lighthearted and funny than his films Fall and After Fall, Winter. Not to be confused with Leos Carax’s Boy Meets Girl, which operates in sharp tonal contrast to the lighthearted rom-com genre that the title suggests, Schaeffer fully embraces the tone and structure of the rom-com genre to make his intellectually intuitive plot all the more digestible. Essentially a teen chick flick with balls (mind the pun), Schaeffer’s film is infinitely more thoughtful than most (all) other films in the genre.

AGLIFF 2014: EVER

Ever (Wendy McColm) in Ever.

Life after death

By Don Simpson

Ever since the unexpected death of her fiancé, Ever (Wendy McColm) has lost her motivation to be happy. Even if Ever were to become happy, she would feel much too guilty to actually enjoy the moment. So, Ever opts to live a lonely existence, working in a quiet bookstore and returning to her sparsely decorated apartment.

Eventually, Ever concedes to go to a movie with a floppy-haired indie rock musician who is unwilling to take no for an answer; but when that date does not go very well, Ever all but gives up on humanity. That is until she meets Emily (Christina Elizabeth Smith), a kind and loving soul who sees the overwhelming goodness glimmering inside of Ever. Whereas Ever might find it difficult to be happy around a man, Ever feels comfortable enough around Emily to finally remove her protective shell. The two women form a bond that seems to transcend mere friendship, leading Ever to question her sexuality.

Anyone who has found it difficult to be happy again after the death of a significant other is sure to find a lot of authenticity in Josh Beck’s Ever, but this film’s real strength is in its depiction of sexuality. While it might be disconcerting to some that Ever’s recent history with male aggression and male stupidity is what triggers her explorations with lesbianism, Ever’s existential struggle is undeniably natural. Emily is probably the best possible person for Ever to explore her newly discovered feelings because she is so understanding of Ever’s hesitations. In Ever, sexuality is refreshingly not black and white. Ever and Emily were "not born" lesbians, they are both attracted to people’s personalities, not their gender. The most convincing aspect of Ever is the organic chemistry between McColm and Smith.

Respectfully toning down the quirky hipster undercurrent that could have easily undermined the film’s aspirations for realism, Beck and cinematographer Micah Van Hove cleverly balance visual style with stoic grace. Simple and sweet, Ever fits gracefully within the new trend of LGBTQA filmmaking, subtly approaching its subject, allowing it to pass as a “straight” film that can easily crossover into the LGBTQA market.

AGLIFF 2014: APPROPRIATE BEHAVIOR

Shirin (Desiree Akhavan) in Appropriate Behavior.

Sex (I am)

By Don Simpson

When Shirin (Desiree Akhavan) is dumped by her girlfriend, Maxine (Rebecca Henderson), she finds herself lost and confused. In her own head, Shirin may have identified herself as Maxine’s partner, but she was never able to actually “come out” as a lesbian, especially not to her socially-conservative, Iranian-American family. Whether or not Shirin’s family were ever keen enough to catch on to the fact that Maxine was more than just her roommate is totally beside the point; they ignored the obvious signs and assumed that Shirin would eventually settle down and marry a man.

Now that she is single, Shirin has the opportunity to start anew by reevaluating her sexual and cultural identities in the hopes of coming up with a definition of herself with which she feels more comfortable. 

Taking a cue from Woody Allen's Annie Hall, Desiree Akhavan’s Appropriate Behavior utilizes flashbacks as Shirin contemplates the highs and lows of her relationship with Maxine. In the present, Shirin halfheartedly flounders away with her own life, moving into an artist loft in Bushwick and starting a new job teaching an after-school filmmaking program.

Channeling the simplicity of the post-Mumblecore set (which means this film will be probably compared to Lena Dunham’s work), Akhavan presents a very realistic portrayal of a young woman struggling to balance her sexuality with her ethnicity in the “anything goes” atmosphere of Brooklyn. In Appropriate Behavior, “coming out” is not as simple as just stating your sexuality; for people of some ethnic and religious backgrounds, it can be a much more complicated statement to make. 

Then again, the whole idea of people needing to proclaim their sexuality is sort of ridiculous. (Says the straight, white male.) I sense that could be why Appropriate Behavior focuses on the comedic absurdity of Shirin’s efforts to find herself. Not only is it ridiculous that Shirin thinks that she will have an answer by the end of the film’s timeline, but it is silly that she even has to go through this whole rigamarole. While it is understandable that a lack of sexual identity could be frustrating (and scary) for a romantic partner, why does it even matter otherwise, especially to her family? (That’s a rhetorical question, by the way.)

AGLIFF 2011: FIT

A scene from Fit.

To be tied and tried

By Don Simpson

Fit takes place in a fictional world where people judge, belittle and abuse other people merely because their presumed sexual preference is not “normal.” These bullies accuse their prey of being “gay” just because of how they act and dress, knowing nothing of whether or not their prey would prefer to snog a boy or a girl. In other words, just because someone does not conform to the restrictive social constructs of what defines masculinity and femininity, they are teased, ridiculed and beaten. Oh and for some, their interpretation of The Bible says that gays are evil. Sounds pretty crazy, huh?

Cleverly flipping queer stereotypes onto their heads, Fit lays out several red herrings in order to prompt the audience to make early judgments about the characters. Lee (Lydia Toumazou) appears to be a stereotypical tomboy “dyke” while her best friend Karmel (Sasha Frost) is girly, pretty and obviously straight. Tegs (Duncan MacInnes) is the school geek and is labelled as “gay” because of his gentle personality while his best mate, Jordan (Ludvig Bonin), is a talented footballer (read: soccer player) who protects Tegs from bullies such as the hyper-homophobic Isaac (Jay Brown) and Ryan (Stephen Hoo). All on the verge of expulsion from school, they have been sentenced to dance class with a flamboyantly gay teacher, Loris (writer-director Rikki Beadle Blair), as their final warning. We see these six teenagers, in turn, via their own and others’ perspectives.

Unfortunately for all of us, the cinematic world Blair creates for us is significantly more real than it should be. Our society needs Fit just as much now as it did back when I was a teenager in the 1980s. Heck, any world in which people cannot be legally married to someone of the same sex or where someone as hateful and judgmental as Michele Bachmann could even be considered to be a Presidential hopeful in the United States needs a lot of help.

Though it plays a lot like a 100+ minute episode of Degrassi: The Next Generation or Skins — comparisons that some may find more favorable than others — Fit is the most complex and thorough exploration of teenage queerness that I have ever seen. Most of all, it is quite encouraging: people can change, acceptance (and happiness) is possible. Fit should be required viewing for all teenagers. Let us just hope that it is not “too gay” for the haters in the audience.

AGLIFF 2011: MANGUS

Mangus (Ryan Boggus) in Mangus.

Holy handicap

By Don Simpson

Mangus Spedgwick’s (Ryan Boggus) destiny is to be Jesus…in his fictional hometown of Rivercity’s annual production of Jesus Christ Spectacular, that is. It is a long-standing family tradition for the Spedgwick males to play the leading role in Jesus Christ Spectacular — the poor man’s version of Jesus Christ Superstar — and Mangus appears to be a shoe-in to keep that tradition alive.

A freak accident renders Mangus handicapped — or handicapable — and the people of Rivercity vote against having a cripple perform in the role of Jesus. All the while, Mangus’ father (Charles Solomon Jr.) is called to duty in Iraq and Mangus’ evil stepmother (Deborah Theaker) sends Mangus to live with his mother (Jennifer Coolidge) and half-sister (Heather Matarazzo) in their trailer park home.

Other than Mangus’ half-sister coming out as a lesbian, writer-director Ash Christian’s Mangus is not necessarily a “queer film” — or a film with any message or agenda, for that matter. However, Mangus is obviously from a very queer perspective. Everything about Mangus screams queer, from the brightly colored production design (Ryan M. Smith) to the cartoonish performances to the musical production that the plot revolves around.

I did not find the onslaught of handicap jokes to be very funny; otherwise, Mangus is supremely quirky and ridiculous…in a good way. The film’s sense of humor is certainly off-kilter and might be a bit too sparkly of a pill for some to swallow, but I recommend hanging in there until Jennifer Coolidge and Heather Matarazzo’s characters are introduced because that is when Mangus really hits its stride. Not that Ryan Boggus is not fantastic as Mangus — because he truly is — but he is at his best when playing off Coolidge and Matarazzo. Noteworthy cameos by Leslie Jordan, John Waters and a few others really add a dash more zaniness to the overall insanity.

AGLIFF 2011: JUDAS KISS

Danny (Richard Harmon) and Zachary (Charlie David) in Judas Kiss.

Backwards in time

By Don Simpson

Zach’s (Charlie David) Hollywood career has consisted thus far of parties and rehab, but he is convinced by Topher (Troy Fischnaller), his best friend and hotshot director, into judging their alma matter’s annual film festival. 

Returning back to Keystone Summit University forces Zach to face his past head-on, especially when Zach has a one-night stand with a budding young filmmaker whose film, Judas Kiss, is in the finals of the competition that Zach is judging. That student goes by the name of Danny Reyes (Richard Harmon) — by no coincidence, that is also Zach’s birth name, the very same name that Zach used while he attended Keystone 15 years ago. Oh, and Zach’s Keystone Film Festival winning film from 15 years ago was also titled Judas Kiss. So, yeah, Zach really screwed himself.

Zach scrambles for the answers to the absurd situations in which he finds himself fatefully intertwined. Can changing Danny’s overly cocksure trajectory really help Zach’s future? You will have to stay tuned to find out, although I bet you can guess the ending.

Fantastic performances by all of the actors and stunningly colorful cinematography by David Berry is marred by a lackluster and over-used narrative trope — someone going back in time to assist his or her younger self in making better decisions. The result is that Judas Kiss comes off as cheesy and moralistic as an ABC Afterschool Special.