With the Mardi Gras Film Festival well under way around
here, it’s indie LGBT time again! You know, I’d probably be a lot more enthused
about this if I hadn’t already discussed several rather taxing and emotional
films over the last few days. Given my history with this sub-genre, with films
like Drown, I could already feel the burnout before I even set foot in the
theatre. But it’s like I keep saying around these parts: I welcome the chance
to be proven wrong. Of course, when I usually say that, it’s in the sense that
I don’t like it when my intense pessimism involving certain releases turns out
to be founded: It may be therapeutic to a degree but that I doesn’t mean that I
actually enjoy watching crap movies. This time around, “being proven wrong” turns
out to be accurate in a completely different way. Let’s dive right in and I’ll
explain how.
The plot: Miklós (Miles Szanto), an Australian teenager, suffers
a deep personal tragedy with the death of his brother Tomi (Nadim Kobeissi). As
he struggles to cope with living in his shadow, he also finds himself coming to
terms with his own sexuality, specifically with how it relates to his best
friend Dan (Daniel Webber). Through a series of sexually-tinged events
proceeding his bereavement, we see Miklós begin to grow comfortable with his
own place in the world… even if said realization comes about through
far-from-comfortable means.
The cast here is… adequate. When a film’s gallery of actors
registers this lightly with me after the credits have rolled, I would usually
equate this to boring performances. That is definitely not the case, though, as
everyone here is perfectly fine. Szanto channels the jarring emotions and
emotional turns he is given quite well, Webber makes for a good second-half of
the main bromance, Charlotte Best as Dan’s girlfriend Phaedra fits into the
verging-on-creepy role she’s given, Kobeissi gives a nice and comforting air to
his flashback scenes with Szanto, and Anni Finsterer, Lech Mackiewicz and Tony
Poli as Miklós’ family do well at bringing forward many of the film’s main
conflicts. I specify “adequate” though because, while everyone here is fine,
no-one really stands out all that much as something amazing, or at the very
least as a key selling point of the work itself.
Given the very thick presence of marijuana smoke throughout
the film, I guess this could be considered a stoner drama alongside being a gay
coming-of-age story. I specify this because, with that addition to the tone of
the work, it’s actually pretty engaging. The way the film casually shows its
use, alongside quite a few harder drugs, is rather refreshing and makes it
distinct from the usual weed-puffing fare where it is usually a gateway for
comedy. Here, it’s more a gateway for conversation and contemplation, which in
this makes sense. The way it’s shown to connect Miklós with both his brother
and his best friend gives it some well-needed normalisation, and even the
moments involving the hard stuff are framed as being rather alienating and
dangerous. Of course, that feeling of this being a stoner film applies to the
film’s approach to tone… and not for any of the good reasons.
There’s a very haphazard and almost goofy tone throughout
the film, which kind of sucks considering this is meant to be a thematic
portrait of grief and coming to terms with one’s sexuality. I get that part of
that story for a lot of people involves certain idiosyncrasies that appear odd
to outside observers, but quite frankly I can’t imagine these sorts of events
being treated seriously even by the people involved. From the sexual
non-sequiturs, some of which add Freudian tones to the story that… let’s just
say are rather troubling, to the brief heroin binge Miklós goes through in the
third act that is never referenced again (immediately kicking heroin
off-screen; this film and reality don’t meet as often as it would like), to the
fact that these and the majority of events we see feel really disjointed when
slotted next to each other. I’ve discussed indie films before that had a rather
business-casual approach to their plotting, but this is a little too off-beat to really see anything
resembling cohesion.
Then we get into the relationship themes of the story and
things take a turn for the even weirder. Now, admittedly, the film does have a
decent through-line involving male role models and how they play into a
person’s development as a teenager, seen here through Miklós’ relationship with
his father, uncle and of course his deceased brother. Hell, as weird as some of
the moments may get between him and Dan (including a sequence that I can
literally only describe as ‘hate-fucking’), they still make a rather cute
couple all things considered. Miklós’ relationships with the women in his life,
on the other hand, don’t work so well. It feels like an internalisation of the
stereotypical claptrap most homophobes spout out about how people’s sexuality
is just down to them hating or being on bad terms with the opposite sex. I’m
sure the more Internet-savvy of my readers will have seen some variation of “Dykes
just hate men” at some point.
His relationship with his mother is fractured, not to mention inconsistent, him and Dan’s girlfriend have easily the biggest out-of-nowhere bit of eroticism in the entire film (that includes the scene where Miklós is picked up by two guys to take part in a sex webcam show which, again, feels out of place) and his connection with Tommy’s pregnant girlfriend is… I don’t even know how to describe their interactions. Bereavement can only excuse so much, especially when the film is this difficult to take at its word as it is, and the whole “brother as a replacement for the dead” thing doesn’t work so well here as it does in certain other scenes. Then again, this includes one where the importance of Miklós wearing his brother’s jacket is literally told out loud to the audience, so make of that what you will.
His relationship with his mother is fractured, not to mention inconsistent, him and Dan’s girlfriend have easily the biggest out-of-nowhere bit of eroticism in the entire film (that includes the scene where Miklós is picked up by two guys to take part in a sex webcam show which, again, feels out of place) and his connection with Tommy’s pregnant girlfriend is… I don’t even know how to describe their interactions. Bereavement can only excuse so much, especially when the film is this difficult to take at its word as it is, and the whole “brother as a replacement for the dead” thing doesn’t work so well here as it does in certain other scenes. Then again, this includes one where the importance of Miklós wearing his brother’s jacket is literally told out loud to the audience, so make of that what you will.
All in all, if this was simply a pot-tinged take on the LGBT
coming-of-age story, with all the comedic trappings that come with it, I would
probably be able to gel with this a lot more thanks to the acting and the
specificity of the writing that makes the story feel genuine. However, because
a lot of the moments contained within waver so wildly between dramatic and
funny, some involving actions that are far too squicky to register as anything
other than troubling, it’s difficult to take this film seriously at face value.
Credit where it’s due as this is certainly one of the more unique films I’ve
seen in cinemas of late, but maybe that’s not such a good thing.
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