I was lucky enough to attend the world premiere of I Am Because We Are, the film produced and written, at least in part, by Madonna, and directed by Nathan Rissman, her former gardener. I love that Madonna plucks people from obscurity to take them along on her ride. It’s not out of generosity or pity, it’s a recognition of talent that is amazingly democratic, that cuts through the usual way things are done.
Courtesy of Angel Love.
I liken it to how she has chosen some of her video directors and photographers, and particularly to how she saw a student film using her music and Kate Bush’s and hired its creator—Alek Keshishian—to direct what became at the time the #1 highest-grossing documentary, Truth Or Dare. (If you’re a cynic, you could also point to her relationship with former trainer Carlos Leon; this is unfair and demeans their genuine, loving connection, but viewed as fans view stars, it adds to the thrilling idea that one day, Madonna could pull you from the crowd and use her stardust to polish up your own potential in life.)
I had gotten tickets the day-of, thanks to a tip from my Madonna pal "Dave" (not his real name). I’d been hunting for them all week (they were only available as “RUSH”), but then batches opened up and I snagged some. Dave is one of my Madonna “top” friends. A Madonna top is a fan who is aggressive and wants to be sure he misses no opportunity in order to avoid stewing over it forever after. I’m also a Madonna top. I went with my sister and brother-in-law, and with one of my Madonna “bottom” friends, Jason. A Madonna bottom is just as big a fan as a Madonna top, but while he thrills at making it into exclusive events or finding out how to download forbidden cast-offs, his outlook is to be happy in the moment with whatever comes his way, and not waste time regretting any missed opportunities. They’re both great friends I’m happy to know, and I love both kinds of Madonna fan—maybe I’m more Madonna “versatile” than I know...
We were let in and had nice, central seats toward the back at the TriBeCa Performing Arts Center, but I went back out to inspect the red carpet. When Madonna came in—looking lovely in an Africanesque-print ‘70s garment, her white-blonde hair visible here and there as she traveled the press line like a British noblewoman navigating the Sahara on safari—the camera crews went mad. They crowded her every step of the way, but I got some clear footage at the end—she smiled radiantly and waved, relaxed and no doubt proud of the film we were about to see.
Courtesy of Angel Love.
(When she did some quick press at the very end of the line, behind gauzy curtains, minders peevishly pressed their fingers together over the seams so fans couldn’t peek in. Isn’t this film about being charitable?)
When seated, I saw Rosie O’Donnell arrive, looking like she did back on her own show. She sat a few rows ahead of us, along with Guy Oseary and the rest of Madonna’s crew.
Madonna was introduced and gave a very sweet, heartfelt speech:
Madonna was then seated in the Rosie row—this was the fourth closest I’ve ever been to Madonna (my friend John—a Madonna “top” if ever there was one—and I once walked past her red pigtails in front of Sound Factory in 1993 and I was in the front row for both Up For Grabs and The Confessions Tour), but I couldn’t see her due to the angle.
The film is a straightforward documentary that pulls no punches in painting Malawi as one of the most desperate places on earth. I found it moving, a tear-jerker in parts. The audience gasped when one boy’s horror-story of mutilation was revealed, and I felt the room was riveted by the information-heavy film. It was interesting seeing a project associated with Madonna that wasn’t so much about her (although she is seen with her adoptive son David, and her personal story of involvement with the country opens the film), and that wasn’t “edgy” or livened up with gimmicks. For example, Truth Or Dare was the original scripted/unscripted reality “show,” and the black-and-white vs. color segments was a stylistic flourish. Here, while Madonna is shown mainly (if not always?) in black-and-white, it didn’t seem so much a flourish as a necessity—her own story is not as compelling as the story of Malawi, as the story of our world.
Read on for more details plus two videos of her entire post-screening Q&A...
Sleep Dealer, taking "illegal aliens" to new levels.
A moviephile friend of mine hit Sundance again this year, and I found his recaps of the 43 (!) films he caught to be informative, well-reasoned and funny. He prepared these just for fun, but I arm-twisted him to let me post them. He wishes to remain anonymous so as not to piss off those whose films didn't make the upper part of this list!
Sundance 2008 Recap by...ANON.
I can’t say this was really a great year at Sundance. The weather was terribly cold and the snow was abundant, but I’ve got three great films at the top of my list to recommend to you, and a bunch of others that may interest you as well.
1 - Young@Heart
An inspiring, life-affirming, and hilarious documentary that was possibly the only film at Sundance this year that approached perfection. The film profiles the Young @ Heart chorus, a group of senior citizens in Massachusetts who travel the world performing popular music – and when I say popular, I don’t mean show tunes or standards – think Coldplay or Sonic Youth, for example. The film works on so many levels and defied every expectation I had about a film which is ultimately about some salty seniors who grow old but keep their youthful spirit alive. Sure, the film goes everywhere you know it will go, but it’s so well-crafted and innovative that it earns every single one of its laughs and tears. See this one with an audience – it’s an experience you will want to share.
2 - The Visitor
This pitch-perfect drama about a lonely university professor who returns to New York after a long absence to find illegal immigrants living in his apartment is subtle and understated and beautifully acted. This is a great leap forward for director Tom McCarthy, whose Sundance favorite The Station Agent was a pleasant diversion but gave no indication of his ability to write and direct a film of such weight and resonance as this one. Award-worthy performances across the board, especially from Richard Jenkins, who is best known for his role as the father on Six Feet Under. At the end, I found myself thinking a lot about the film, and I must admit that initially I didn’t feel entirely satisfied at how the drama played out, but ultimately I decided that this is a film that wants you to think and question and challenge it, and for that I recognize it as the most intelligent and accomplished dramatic feature I saw at the festival this year.
3 - Man on Wire
A triumph of both style and substance, Man on Wire is that rare documentary that takes a seemingly straightforward subject – a profile of Philippe Petit, the French tightrope walker who traversed a wire he set up between the twin towers of the World Trade Center in the 1970s – and turns it into a suspenseful and ultimately moving account of a person, a time, and a place that will never again converge in this world. The film is chock full of jaw-dropping details, footage of the event and of the twin towers that has never before been seen, and first-person accounts of what Petit described as his ‘coup.’ Winner of the World Cinema Jury Prize (Documentary) and the World Cinema Audience Award (Documentary).
4 - Bigger Stronger Faster*
A terrific and entertaining documentary about steroid use in America is also full of style and substance – one might be tempted to call it a film on steroids – but filmmaker Chris Bell gives us a guided tour of our performance-oriented culture that somehow veers off in a million directions but never loses sight of its agenda. This is much more than the investigative journalism it first seems to be, and the personal dimension that Bell brings to the film (he has been struggling with his own decision to use steroids) really adds credibility. Bell was clearly inspired by filmmaker Morgan Spurlock (of Super Size Me), but unlike Spurlock, who misfired this year in his attempt to bring a personal dimension to his Sundance entry Where in the World is Osama Bin Laden? (read on for details), Bell succeeds in creating an engaging and provocative portrait of what our country has become.
5 – Baghead
The Duplass brothers, who first hit Sundance with their feature The Puffy Chair in 2005, are often attached to the ‘mumblecore’ movement of filmmaking – a group of films where inarticulate twentysomethings mumble their way through their friendships and relationships. Unlike their contemporaries, however, I think the Duplass kids are truly gifted, with a keen ear for dialogue, naturalistic performances from their ensemble of unknowns, and an intimate style that sucks you into their characters’ lives. They are masters at getting so much out of so little – and now, two films into their career, they’ve created a curious hybrid of mumblecore and slasher flick that risks being thoroughly ridiculous and emerges as a winner. I don’t want to oversell this modest film – it ultimately deserves a place on your Netflix queue more than anything – but I applaud these guys for making a film so original and unpredictable and fresh.
I was invited to an advance screening of the Fox Searchlight documentary Young@Heart, which follows the inner-workings of the titular chorus, made up of men and women over 70. Some of them are way, way over 70, like flirty Eileen Hall who at 92 is the senior member. Sensitively directed by Stephen Walker, the film concentrates on several members, who either embody the group's can-do spirit (happy-go-lucky cancer survivor Joe Benoit, randy Steve Martin), its inherent propensity for dream-dousing illness (sweet-hearted Bob Salvini) or the hard work required to pull off a show (horizons-broadening Stan Goldman, movie trailer-stealing crack-up Dora B. Morrow).
Make no mistake—when you have more than two dozen elderly people in a documentary, there will be blood. I don't think it gives anything away to mention that death is a motif. However, death pales in comparison to the vigorous life these people have in them, and that they put into their rousing concerts.
Did I mention they sing rock? Even punk?
Under the firm but fair guidance of chorus director Bob Cilman, the troupe tackles such inspired selections as David Bowie's "Golden Years," Sonic Youth's "Schizophrenia" and "Life During Wartime" by the Talking Heads. A heart-wrenchingly beautiful take on "Nothing Compares 2 U" pops up out of nowhere, but none of the songs can hold a candle to an absolutely transcendent version of Coldplay's "Fix You" sung by 81-year-old Fred Knittle, a man who uses oxygen thanks to congestive heart failure. That he can sing at all is surprising, that he can interpret this modern classic with so much depth and with technical skill is astonishing. (It's below—don't watch if you plan to see the movie.)
A deceptively simple film, Young@Heart is more than a feel-good movie and more than a tear-jerker (though it is both), delicately tracing life's big questions through the words and experiences—old and new—of a group of people who have decided to sing until they can't sing no more.
Watch—and listen—for Young@Heart in theaters in April.
Just NetFlixed The Nines, starring Ryan Reynolds, Melissa McCarthy and Hope Davis. I'd procrastinated on seeing it, having heard negative things and vague commentary about how weeeird it is. I'm so glad I watched it—maybe low expectations helped, but I found it almost threateningly cerebral, funny, engaging and so well thought out it was like you could envision the writer/director had mapped out every moment with extreme care. It's not for everyone—it earns that weeeird mantle in that it's three sequences featuring the same actors as different (but not so different) characters, whose patterns of existence seem to echo that of their doppelgangers. I couldn't take my eyes off of it.
And just for fun, from Us (February 11, 2008), here's a great shot of Ryan Reynolds attempting to deep-throat future co-star Abigal Breslin's head, a propos of nothing except...wow, does that boy has a detachable jaw or what?
The post's title is a quote from The Christine Jorgensen Story, an inept 1970 film that attempted to tell the story of one of the world's first people to undergo a sex-change operation. My friend Gordon sent me the following scan from his high-school newspaper The Echoes, dated October 22, 1970. It's a scathing review of that film, which must have had a decent release to catch the eye of a respectable Nebraskan girl. Granted, it's considered a camp classic, but the review itself slips into that same territory with quotes about "Hollywood Offal."
Reviewer "Barb" Monty was well-named.
I guess the fly-over obsession with how wrong Hollywood gets it has been simmering for at least 37 years, as well as the anger over the fact that "it's the transvestites and the homosexuals that are selling today."
The more things change...
The word "homosexuals" wouldn't even have been allowed in my own late-'80s high-school newspaper...!
I used to prepare elaborate lists of my best and worst films and share them with a select group of friends. We took our awards seriously, and had to be willing to read our lists aloud to each other and back up our picks. We would also then handicap the Oscars with a 5-point system—your guess for who would win would get a 1, the next likeliest a 2 and so on, so that whoever scored the lowest won.
Time escapes me now with a blog and a day job and outside writing assignments.
But here are my lists, because old habits die hard with a vengeance:
First, I have to say that Boy Culture was not considered; I'm too close to it to consider it on my best (or worst!) list. Suffice it to say, I was most deeply gratified by this movie's existence over any other's.
FAVORITE FILMS 2007 (IN ORDER)
1 There Will Be Blood—This is one of my favorite films in a long time, a gut-wrenching, unapologetically malevolent biography of The Great American Dream. Daniel Day-Lewis was amazing, but Kevin J. O'Connor did a bang-up (literally) job of personifying the emptiness of faith.
2 Michael Clayton—Biggest surprise, and I had a lot of them, was this mesmerizing film with a stand-out performance by George Clooney. Tilda Swinton's supporting turn as a self-conscious corporate attorney redefined her for the big screen. I absolutely loved this.
3 Eastern Promises—I'm so glad Viggo Mortensen was recognized for his ballsy (ahem) performance—he is completely lost in this role, an emotional challenge because as a Russian enforcer he must project savage cool while still communicating surprising heart. He and Naomi Watts have great chemistry.
4 Atonement—I expected a dry, Merchant & Ivory type period piece, but discovered a bracingly modern, uncompromisingly passionate story that revolves around a 13-year-old's struggle against encroaching sexuality—and the hapless charmer who is unfortunate enough to come between her and her child-like drive to be pure, innocent. Both Keira Knightly and James McAvoy captivated me with classic, yet never bloodless, performances, but Saoirse Ronan (especially!), Romola Garai and Vanessa Redgrave as Briony steal the show. It's a truly beautiful movie.
5 The Savages—I took José to see this blackly comic downer on his birthday, of all occasions! Laura Linney earned her nomination with a performance that quickly overshadows all her other fine work.
6 Zodiac—It's tragic that this intense, cerebral crime drama was overlooked by all the major awards. Jake Gyllenhaal anchors and director David Fincher unfurls the story with cold, methodical cunning.
7 Away From Her—An underrated slice of life that mourns the loss of youth and memory while suggesting that love is eternal, even if we're not around to know it. Julie Christie is beautiful to look at and to watch as the film flickers by.
8 The Diving Bell And The Butterfly—A challenging, impressionistic telling of an unfilmable story! I think it's the most exciting and involving movie that could be made about a man suffering from "locked-in syndrome," only able to communicate with one, rapidly blinking eye. I don't know if it was uplifting or a tale of terror, but it was deeply moving.
9 Into the Wild—I didn't expect to enjoy this film at all...I figured I'd be thinking, "Come on, kid, buck up already!" But Emile Hirsch's wonderful, wide-open performance, complemented by a host of talented supporters (notably Hal Holbrook), and Sean Penn's deeply felt direction hooked me.
10 Sicko—If you're against universal health care, you're fucking stupid and I don't care to hear from you.
11 Dan In Real Life—I'm partial to Steve Carell, but I didn't rush out to see Evan Almighty! This sexy, sweet romance for grown-ups really had me oohing and ahhing to myself. Juliette Binoche was perfect, too.
Aside from Marsden's, the best manhole in Enchanted.
12 Enchanted—Just a riot with Amy Adams, James Marsden and Susan Sarandon perfectly cast. Inventive and sweet. She's almost Marilyn Monroe-esque in this.
13 Persepolis—Truly informative and empathetic look at the ups and downs of being an Iranian girl in the '70s and '80s.
14 Juno—A very funny and involving movie, I still kept thinking it was like a great episode of The Gilmore Girls. I liked all the actors a lot. I did draw back a bit, sensing an anti-abortion subtext.
15 No Country For Old Men—Not as amazing as I'd been told...I found parts of this film plodding and pretentiously artsy, which sucks because other parts were so fine. I just loved Josh Brolin and Javier Bardem and the ending was magnificent. That hammy old mama really needed to be recast, though.
16 Stardust—Just dumb fun, but fun.
17 Hot Fuzz—A laugh riot, if slightly one-note.
18 Charlie Wilson’s War—Leagues better than I'd expected, this was a perfectly enjoyable, light, topical movie that had a Julia Roberts performance I didn't hate. (Loved the eyelash bit, and Philip Seymour Hoffman is hysterical in this!)
19 La Vie En Rose—Slightly confusing, but very well-done biopic with, of course, the year's best female performance.
20 The Namesake—A quietly absorbing cultural drama that I didn't love at first, but that has grown in my memory.
I also generally liked Knocked Up, Superbad (sans the constant "fag" comments), Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber Of Fleet Street (it didn't wow me), Gone Baby Gone (a weaker version of a movie Clint Eastwood already made), Offside, A Mighty Heart and The Kite Runner.
After the jump, my least favorites. But I tend not to even try films if all evidence points to my hating it.
I'll be taking baby steps back to more regular blogging, though I'm pleased to say I had a post a day during my recent holiday absence. To kick things off, here are some links regarding the film version of Boy Culture's year-end status...some of you liked it, some of you really liked it:
Blogger BlakFoxx calls Boy Culture his #1 fave gay DVD of 2007...and that definition includes films like Notes On A Scandal! Queer Verve has BC in the Top 5 DVDs.
Boy Culture was also listed in various year-end round-ups for queer cinema, though some were annoying to me (they assessed the film rather dismissively, in my opinion taking it for granted in a year that brought us I Now Pronounce You Chuck And Larry and Wild Hogs); one year-ender of note was The Washington Blade's.
I'll be doing my own film wrap-up for the year once I feel I've seen enough of the potentially award-worthy movies to be versed. I did see eight or nine movies over the holidays, several of which blew me away, so that was a big help. I need to check out at least a number of the following: The Orphanage (unfortunately, mostly pedestrian The Others-esque thriller that is barely above average let alone reminiscent of del Toro), American Gangster, There Will Be Blood (unless I'm forgetting something, this is my #1 of the year...really spectacular, moving, creepy and it has to win Best Actor), The Diving Bell And The Butterfly (lovely, impressionistic handling of an unfilmable subject), Persepolis (liked it), No Country For Old Men (generally respected it but it was not my favorite), Once (boring-as-shite, even if ultimately sweet...a bad argument for watching instead of listening to music), Away From Her (very affecting Alzheimer's romantic drama with Julie Christie knocking me out—a great directorial turn by Sarah Polley), Across The Universe (nice enough love story, fairly inventive, went down easy), Before The Devil Knows You're Dead, 3:10 To Yuma (a solid, satisfying western with a really committed performance by Christian Bale but a lackluster Russell Crowe), Atonement (exquisite, surprisingly modern take on a Merchant & Ivory-type historical romance), The Assassination Of Jesse James By The Coward Robert Ford, Lars & The Real Girl (surprisingly endearing, offbeat movie with absolutely great performances from the leads and the supporting players—I was in awe that they kept interesting what could have been a one-trick pony from beginning to end), God Grew Tired Of Us, Charlie Wilson's War (shockingly...very enjoyable!), La Vie En Rose (slightly hard to follow biopic, but still quite good, with a knock-out performance from Marion Cotillard) and I'm Not There.
I recently had a chance to see Marc Forster's The Kite Runner (Paramount Vantage), the film adaptation of the popular novel by Khaled Hosseini that opens December 19.
The film is about two boys living in Afghanistan in the ‘70s. One, Amir (Zekeria Ebrahimi), is the privileged son of wealthy businessman Baba (Homayon Ershadi). The other, Hassan (Ahmad Khan Mahmidzada), is the loyal-to-a-fault son of Baba’s childhood friend and now servant, Ali (Nabi Tanha). Hassan is Hazara, and as such the tight bond between him and the boy he serves leads to relentless taunting by some elements of their neighborhood, most prominently from sadistic Assef (Elham Ehsas).
That both fathers and sons were each other's friends and yet also function without complaint as cogs in a society that makes one the other's servant lends the film a psychological depth that's hard to appreciate until further events unfold.
Father's day.
Considered disappointing to his father for his wishy-washy nature, Amir is comforted by his father’s business associate and friend, Rahim Kahn (Shaun Toub), who seems to understand how difficult it is to please one’s father, especially when the man in question is successful, strong and brave.
Amir is devoted to competitive kite-flying—a village-wide obsession—and throws himself into the pastime in an unconscious way to win some of his father’s respect...and love. Hassan is Amir’s kite runner—his right-hand man who must nimbly hunt down kites after they are ruthlessly severed by the lines of an opponent’s kite during competition.
Let's play master and servant.
When Hassan is cornered by their enemies and—in a scene considered so inflammatory it resulted in a change in the film’s release until after its real-life young actors' safety could be assured—is brutally raped by Assef, Amir is nearby, too afraid to intervene. Instead of sympathizing with Hassan, Amir’s shame for not standing up to their molesters leads him to cast Hassan out of his life and, ultimately, to frame Hassan for the theft of his watch, resulting in a principled exit from the household by Ali and Hassan.
Not long after, the Soviets invade and Afghanistan teeters toward anarchy—Baba wisely sees that his nobility is now a liability, and flees the country with Amir, barely escaping with their lives. Rahim will watch their fine home in their absence, or at least as long as he’s able.
I finally saw Jim Tushinski's That Man: Peter Berlin, a documentary about the pornstar/Warholian self-made superstar Peter Berlin. I didn't love it, but I liked a lot of it and would recommend it if it sounds appealing. Most interesting was seeing Berlin as he appears today. He jokes about whether he needs surgery (as if he hasn't had any!), but he really does look quite a bit the same.
I think Owen Wilson needs to cast aside dippy comedies and consider making Peter's story:
I jumped at the opportunity to be on the host committee for NewFest/Outfest’s East Coast premiere of the restored Parting Glances, which was held October 29 at the Walter Reade Theater at the Film Society of Lincoln Center. All I had to do was commit to buying some tickets and to publicizing the film—and I’d already been doing the latter with incredible regularity over the past 20 years since I first saw it.
The Legacy Project is committed to restoring and preserving queer cinema, a first-of-its-kind undertaking and something that I’m sure most people would not think was necessary for a film released just three years before The Simpsons hit TV. But the fact is that all good things—including any kind of film stock—must come to an end.
If you let them.
I’ve been in love with Parting Glances from the day I saw it, eyes wide open, and I’ve been fascinated by the fragility of movies and the volatility of celluloid for about a dozen years—I was first drawn to the subject of the temporal nature of film and video after reading books like Lost Films: Important Movies That Disappeared (Citadel Press, 1996) by Frank Thompson and made it a theme of my novel Blind Items: A (Love) Story. It makes me feel ancient that my interest in Parting Glances and my interest in film preservation have legitimately intersected.
B-roll of the grade-A cast.
For no good reason, I was incredibly anxious about the actual event. I wasn’t expected to do anything but show up, and yet I felt this need for everything to go well, to say hello to the actors (most of whom, with the major exception of Steve Buscemi) were going to attend, to get pictures. Pictures, pictures, must get pictures! Just like the movie’s own tenuous existence prior to restoration, it’s all about preserving the proof that something happened.
I never attend a reception with less than two stars...
We sprang for VIP tickets, so I went to the pre-reception with my partner José and our friends Paul and Lav (pictured), and we met up with blog-buddy Kenneth from KennethInThe212. Kenneth and I had sort of sponsored the attendance of cast member Richard Wall—“Douglas” from the film, the best/worst party guest of all time. In real life, Richard (our meeting pictured) turned out to be all the best and none of the worst of Douglas, funny and full of factoids 'n' fictionoids about the making of the movie. His guest was a former dancer for, among others, John Davidson. You just know they have stories to tell between the two of them.
But I felt strangely anti-social because all all my focus was on my mission, one I realized I shared with Kenneth.
(Ageless) Yolande Bavan and Kathy Kinney—the girls of PG.
The first sighting was Kathy Kinney, the film's struggling artist and hostess-with-the-mostest(-drugs) “Joan.” She of course has since become famous as The Drew Carey Show's screaming “Mimi Bobeck,” a character that could not be further removed from ultra-lowkey, almost ethereal “Joan” and Kathy herself. She was talking with Yolande Bavan, who was so hilarious as the film's obvlious/evolved “Betty,” but Kenneth and I sidled up to them for our first photo-op of the evening. They humored us and we felt emboldened.
Do we look too...foofy?
Next, we drifted over to Richard Ganoung (“Michael”) as he chatted with Craig Chester (pictured, but why didn’t I feel the uncontrollable need to pose with Chester? He’s also a true gay-cinema idol and the star of the amazing Swoon, which probably needs restoring soon, too!) and were able to have our pictures taken with him quite easily. In our limited exchange, Ganoung came off as incredibly nice, much less peevish than "Michael" can be in the movie!
Kenneth and I with our John.
Finally, we hovered by still-sexy John Bolger (“Robert”) as he did a video interview then were able to collar him for some snaps. He gave me a look that had the effect of your male-lead dance partner’s hand on the small of your back, though I realized this was not a look he was “giving” (let alone to me) so much as one that is his default look. Flush with success and blindered to any feeling that our machinations were attracting attention, we were able to hop into some group shots with the cast. As we squeezed into the frame with “Michael” and “Robert,” I mumbled to John that we'd both always wanted to be a part of the perfect couple—which made him laugh.
Marvelous pretzel.
Then I exhaled and we sat down for the screening.
Fussy Bill Sherwood + the incredibly true story of Steve Buscemi's casting!
My pictures turned out so incredibly awful they made me want to stick my finger down my throat, but the actual film turned out looking pretty crisp. It was never a visually stunning film, being an indie drama that’s more say than do, but the work done on it had returned Parting Glances to the state it was in at its February '86 opening. Seeing it in a theater made me love it all the more, helping me to appreciate an absolutely flawless script dripping with wit and wisdom.
Sherwood's rage over a botched poster!
After, there was a talk with cast members, during which lots of juicy tidbits were learned. Producer Yorav Mandel admitted to having slept with people in order to get money to finish the film, casting director (and the film’s “ghost”) Dan Haughey revealed that many actors had passed on the too-gay roles, and we found out the film’s late director Bill Sherwood (he died of AIDS in 1990) had later written a script for a film to have starred Kinney called Only Child. Can you imagine?
John Bolger = gay for pay!
Interestingly, Bolger discussed the disapproval that emanated in the halls of his then-job on The Guiding Light when “PG” (as they call it) opened but asserted the "quite wonderful" script and "employment" were his only considerations in accepting Sherwood's offer to star. Kinney actually benefited from her participation—a year later she went out for a $400 job on Dr. Ruth's show as a woman who wanted to marry a gay man (who knew Dr. Ruth was fixed???) and was hired on the spot by a gay booker who discreetly recognized her from the film. Imagine being in the closet at work when you were working for the world’s most celebrated sex therapist...
Ganoung had some striking remembrances of working with Steve “Nick” Buscemi (who was filming in China but had attended the L.A. premiere this summer and sent his family to this one), the most interesting of which was the fact that Adam “Peter” Nathan had been cheering Ronald Reagan’s inauguration while the famous stairwell scene was being shot. That scene was originally to have been between “Michael” and “Nick,” but it wasn’t working. Ganoung went home and the scene was shot using some of the dialogue that Nathan had just been saying for real—but no one seems to know where the young Republican is these days. Thoughts?
Adam Nathan: MIA.
I later e-mailed Haughey about the possibility that any outtakes may exist, especially anything substantial like a stairwell scene with “Michael” and “Nick,” and he said to his knowledge nothing exists, though Mandel had raised the possibility that a box may have gone to Sherwood’s parents in 1990.
Everyone spoke at length about Sherwood’s uncompromising nature to the point where it seemed like he was up on the stage himself. I’d had no idea he and Kinney were so tight (she was called his “muse” at one point) and that they’d been the world’s worst operators at WCBS while he wrote the script that would become Parting Glances.
Hysterical story of why "the world was ours" for Kinney & Sherwood!
Though Parting Glances is not exactly an AIDS film despite being the first feature to deal with the topic, it was nonetheless surprising to learn that as Sherwood was writing the script in 1983 he had zero experience with the disease and had to send his producer to Brookyn to meet with a doctor who’d actually seen AIDS patients. Despite that, Sherwood was convinced—and told Mandel this—that “everybody living in New York is going to die.” They didn’t, but Sherwood did, and Haughey confirmed that Sherwood had assumed he already had the disease but did not know for sure until much later. Mandel choked up remembering this story, and I choked up hearing him choke up.
Another deep moment was when Ganoung reminisced about filming the scene that makes me cry every time I see it—where “Michael” confesses to “Nick” that he is the one love of his life. Ganoung seemed to well up with emotion exactly as he had in the celebrated scene, which was the last take after a long night and directly following an acid-tongued challenge from Sherwood. Ganoung (recently profiled here) is really deserving of more attention, not only for his complicated perfomance, but for telling us it was “never a question” that he would do the potentially risky film and would do it as an openly gay actor. How many others have been so open from the start of their film careers? Not many. And not many of them, if any, can point to having been a part of a film as fine as Parting Glances.
I’m forgetting too much and remembering too much; luckily, I also captured some good video (or rather, some good audio that is accompanied by distant video). The night ended but the cause goes on—I hear the next Outfest Legacy Project beneficiary is the 1977 documentary Word Is Out. If it’s as important to you as Parting Glances is to me, or even if you’d just like the opportunity to find out, consider supporting Outfest today.
Photo © and courtesy of CASONE LLC.
Courtesy of Angel Love.
Courtesy of Angel Love.
