Tag: BFI Flare

Madame Satã

Posted on by Paul Risker

Brazilian director Karim Aïnouz’s Madame Satã, celebrates its 20th anniversary this year. This groundbreaking LGBTQ film is a racially and sexually charged piece of cinema. Raw and intense, it belongs in the present as much as the past. Blessed with a timeless aura, even if the cinematography gives away its age, the film will resonate with today’s audiences, for the hostility it depicts towards the expression of one’s racial and sexual identity.

The story is inspired by the real life figure João Francisco dos Santos, who passed away in 1976. Played by Lázaro Ramos, Aïnouz undoubtedly takes creative licence in the portrait he crafts. Who was this icon of Brazilian culture? The short and simple answer is that he was a groundbreaking gay performer, who shattered accepted conventions, and fulfilled his dream of being a star. In keeping with his aspirations of stardom, his costume designs drew inspiration from Hollywood, including Cecil B. DeMille’s musical comedy, Madam Satan (1930).

João Francisco dos Santos the man, had a dramatic life offstage to rival his onstage character. A convicted reoffender, he was a fierce street-fighter and a father. He gave a home to prostitute Laurita (Marcelia Cartaxo) and her baby daughter, and was friends with Tabu (Flavio Bauraqui), a vibrant hustler and prostitute.

Madame Satã has a contradictory vibe. It’s visually alive with the movements of the bodies, but the emphasis on the spoken word leaves the audience with the feeling that we’re witnessing a flamboyant hybrid of cinema and theatre. It’s an echo of João’s personality, that sees the aesthetic connect with the character. Laurita tells him in one scene, “You’re like a wild animal.” While João only aspired to be a star on the stage, his vibrant persona feels as if it were destined to appear on the screen.

The character captivates, yet there’s a restraint. Aïnouz refuses a critical exploration of dos Santos and Madame Satã. Some audiences will perceive the absence of a deeper character study, and accuse the director of being seduced by the personality of his protagonist. The point, however, is to become lost in the frenetic lifestyle of dos Santos, that allows the quieter and intimate moments, particularly with Laurita and Amador (Emiliano Queiroz) who runs the Blue Danube Club, to take us deeper into his persona.

Aïnouz effectively captures the internal conflict, which emerges gradually, rewarding the patient viewer. It slowly opens itself up to the audience, and by its conclusion, we are rewarded with an interesting insight into a captivating man, far from at peace with himself, and is seen as provocative by others.

The 20th Anniversary celebration of Madame Satã plays at the BFI Flare on March 20th 2022, in a joint screening with DMovies and African Odysseys. Just click here for more information, and secure your ticket as soon as possible!

Listen up: this is our BFI Flare podcast!

Posted on by Alasdair Bayman

Following the jump to the Podcast form, the team at DMovies have been waiting for the right moment to strike again! Thankfully, the BFI Flare: LGBT Film Festival 2018 proved too good an opportunity to pass up on covering for all our dirty new listeners! Seeing an array of films, from investigatory documentaries on America’s Southern LGBT community to a biopic on the Queer icon Oscar Wilde, BFI Flare’s programme had it all this year. In amongst the walls of the Southbank’s iconic building, Alasdair Bayman went on a quest to interview the very best filmmakers who attended the festival.

Following Scott Jones, the victim of a horrendous hate crime in Canada, Love, Scott (Laura Marie Wayne, 2018; pictured below) is a kaleidoscopic investigation of trauma and perseverance in a world filled with oppression. As you will hear in the podcast, both Scott and Laura were in fine form as they delved deeper in the essence of their friendship and film. Nonetheless, what is not revealed in the audio is the touching emotion apparent on the faces of the both the director and subject matter.

Secondly on the podcast, Mario’s (Marcel Gisler, 2018; pictured below) director and co-star, Aaron Altaras feature. The titular character is an U21 football player for Swiss side BSC Young Boys. Consequentially a result of Leon’s (Altaras) arrival at the club, the two strike a prolific on field relationship. Spiralling towards away from the field of play, both Mario and Leon must face the penalties ensued by being LGBT in a hyperactive masculine environment.

As Alasdair sat down with Aaron, awaiting the arrival of Marcel, our dirty writer was informed of the actor’s supporting of Arsenal. An aside anecdote, at the international premiere of the film at the BFI the previous night, Aaron was sequentially approached by a member of The Gay Gooners – an LGBT supporters group at the football club. Praising the film for its power, the member then proceeded to offer Aaron free tickets for their game against Stoke City. Underlining the welcoming environment instilled by all those working and participating in the festival, this small gesture shows that film is an international and free medium, touching all those participating.

To round off the podcast, Malcom Ingram, the director of Southern Pride, speaks upon his film’s post-Trump setting. Vocal and opinionated, Ingram evidently projects his political views into the film in an unobtrusive manner, resulting in the final Pride sequence being some poignant filmmaking.

Opening their doors to all cinephiles, BFI Flare: LGBT Film Festival 2018 highlights the cultural and socio-political change cinema can yield. In this regard, one would be amiss to not be encouraged for a brighter, fairer cinematic and political future. Don’t forget to subscribe to our MixCloud channel and keep your eyes peeled as we will be hitting iTunes soon! As always, watch this space for filthier content in the future!

Mario

Posted on by Alasdair Bayman

Back in 2010, Germany striker Mario Gomez urged footballers who were homosexual to come out as they “would play as if they had been liberated.” Cut to 2018 and this call to arms from Gomez, who has since never stated if he is gay or not, the situation is as dire as ever. Being the only football player who has played in an array of Europe’s top five leagues to come out, former Aston Villa midfielder Thomas Hitzlsperger felt “he wanted to tell the world he was gay while he was still playing in Germany for Wolfsburg, but was advised against it” – according to an interview with German journalist Raphael Honigstein in 2014.

The overtly masculine and competitive nature of the sport means that any small piece of humanity or personality shown by a player results in ridicule by the press and opposing fans. Touching on Hitzlsperger’s experience of being a gay man in the blatantly heterosexual world of football – with its oppressions – Mario (Marcel Gisler, 2018) focuses acutely on the blossoming career of the titular Mario Lüthi (Max Hubacher). Whilst in the U21 squad of Swiss giants BSC Young Boys, he falls in love with their latest signing, Leon Saldo (Aaron Altaras). Complicating matters further, Mario and Leon both play in offensive positions and the pathway into the first team is only for a select few. Merging career ambition with a formative love relationship, this Swiss-Germanic production eventually conjures up some pathos after a slow start.

Shy and timid, Mario’s life is conjoined to the hip with football. In early pre-season where a professional focus is needed, the club transfer in Leon Saldo from Hannover 96’s U21 Academy. Strong, athletic and good-looking, Leon appears the perfect fit to be nurtured into the first team. Competing for the same spot, the two eventually form a prolific on-field relationship, leading the U21 squad towards league glory. Seeing the prospect held by both players, the Swiss club decide to room the two boys together, in an attempt to strengthen their on the field chemistry further. Consequentially, their off-field understanding grows into a shared love and understanding of one another. Seen by another team member kissing when away travelling to a game, the two must thus face the costs of sharing this twofold relationship.

Bringing a delicate edge to Mario, Max Hubacher, in moments, achieves a tenderness that feels fully realised. Contrasted against the confidence of Leon, the two work hold chemistry in periodic moments. Such instances occur after a long period of the film establishing its characters and mood. A juxtaposition of the dazzling heights of Goal! The Dream Begins (Danny Cannon, 2005), the world of a young upcoming footballer includes moments of loneliness, anxiety and resolve. Throughout its lengthy running time, the glamorous lives of Paul Pogba and Zlatan Ibrahimovic seem like galaxies away from the hard demands of continuous physical exercise and intense periods of nothingness. Talent is one thing, but the drive to succeed in a competitive environment is another aspect.

From the moment that rumours surrounding their relationship get out into the internal system at BSC Young Boys, Leon and Mario’s lives change forever. The clean almost corporate-like qualities possessed in the environments of the training ground work against the deeply personable relationships held between the two lovers. Accompanied by a shockingly suppressive meeting between the manager and club representative, Mario is informed that it would be best for him to be seen with a woman to suppress the rumours around him and Leon. This particular scene, alongside the final moments of the film, does unearth a sensitive soul to Mario. Regardless, the journey to these two specific moments lacks the eloquence apparent in other young LGBT tales as Maurice (James Ivory, 1987).

Addressing a key social and sporting subject that does not appear to be high on the agenda of Fifa or Uefa, Mario, through all this, is tragic in its few shining scenes. It is appropriate to suggest that the professionalism that radiates from its lead character impacts its stirring core. Credit where credit is due, however, I am sure solace and inspiration will be found from audience members and professional athletes who hold their sexuality as a closely guarded secret. Gisler and his team thankfully do not park the bus and come out against their subject matter in an assertive attacking manner. Still, it is void of the masterstroke that would be deployed by Pep Guardiola in footballing masterclass against Jose Mourinho.

Mario premiered at BFI Flare: LGBT Film Festival 2018 in March, when this piece was originally written. It’s out in cinemas on Friday, July 13th. It’s available on VoD and DVD from Friday, August 17th.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tIGxpk9c-7U

Love, Scott

Posted on by Alasdair Bayman

Springing up idyllic appearing super 16mm footage of Canadian wilderness, Love, Scott (Laura Marie Wayne, 2018) does not start off as a regular documentary on an inspirational figure for the LGBT community. The victim of a horrible hate crime, committed against him in New Glasgow in 2013, Scott Jones, in the film’s brisk 76- minutes running time, confronts the ramifications of his attach head on.

Equipped with a feminine melancholic poetical voiceover- all from the perspective of Scott’s best friend- the slow tone induces one into a contemplative state of thinking. Recalling the process of cutting in the editing room, the footage is spliced together hastily. Intersected into three sections, the episodes lack any true clarity, effectively serving little purse other than for the narrator to describe. Photogenic, whilst all natural archive footage, the cinematography, merging with the voice over, sustains this lulling tone.

Swiftly cutting to its subject matter, Scott Jones, around his home in rural Nova Scotia, Canada, the free-flowing camera copiously lingers on his bearded face. As Scott finishes his opening discussion upon ‘the attack’, which occurred when returning home from Korea, the camera zooms out to reveal the fact he is wheelchair bound. Viewing it from both sides, the filmmakers could possibly be inserting a startling expose to shock the audience in its early stages. On the reverse side of the argument, it’s hard to ignore that the slow exposure of such a key element does not glamorise or idealise his recent disability. Occurring moments after referring to the hate crime committed against him, which is not legally recognized by the state, its a documentary with a tight focus on this heinous act committed upon Scott.

Absorbed in the natural beauty around him, Scott is constantly filmed immersed in such surroundings. Alongside his sister, they perform a Christian song of praise to oneself on a rock overlooking a tranquil river. The repetition of water imagery elicits the constant flow of life- regardless of good or bad periods. Emerging as a pivotal part of his life, his faith in choir propels him forward through the darkness of his disability. Interacting with the filmmaker in a form that feels as though it is just two friends talking, the personal stories told to the camera throughout its brief running time never feel stretched out or overly long. The latter impression is prominent in the final third act where Scott contemplates forgiving his attacker. Situating the camera far away during moments of him choral directing, the utilization of zoom adds a voyeuristic element to proceedings. In these flourishing moments of happiness for Scott, we see how the human spirit prevails over dark times.

Adding to the natural ability of Scott to directly talk to the camera, unbroken takes accompany the deeply personal tales. Working as the antithesis to the narrative archive footage that is asserted in a brisk manner, Wayne’s takes create verisimilitude. Occasional shooting out of focus shots varies the cinematic language of Love, Scott. Typical of independent filmmaking, it only truly lands a blow in one engaging nighttime drive filming. Aiding his continual presence in the film, surprisingly for a documentary subject, Scott has an alluring on-screen presence. Combined with his occasionally charming nature, Love, Scott is fortunate to have a focus who feels so natural around camera equipment.

The result of its accumulative emotive story, Laura Marie Wayne’s first full-length feature documentary certainly has its cinematic and affecting moments. Still, with a final act that feels out of place against the initial two acts, Love, Scott has enough impactful embellishments to produce a redeeming quality. What is undeniable, however, is that Scott Jones is a beacon of hope to us, LGBT or not, to keep the faith and endure the worst life has to offer.

Love, Scott is showing at BFI Flare: LGBT Film Festival 2018.

Centre of my World (Die Mitte der Welt)

Posted on by victorfraga

As homosexuality becomes increasingly acceptable, coming-out dramas are gradually replaced by same-sex coming-of-age stories with little regard to the sexuality of the characters. Such is the case with the German teenage romance Centre of my World, where the gay plot is entirely devoid of the subject of homophobia and any sort social taboo attached to gayness. Another example is the American indie Akron (Brian O’Donnell/ Sasha King, 2016), which showed at last year’s BFI Flare. And there are more movies of the same nature. These films are necessary but their repercussion can also be double-edged: on one hand, we all crave for a world without bigotry and intolerance, and it feels good to breath the fresh air of gay cinema without toxic prejudice. On the other hand, it also feels a little awkward and detached from reality, as there aren’t many place in the world which have achieved this level of equality and respect.

Seventeen-year-old Phil (Louis Hofmann) lives in a ancient mansion called named Visible with his mother Glass and his twin sister Dianne. The three have a very cozy relationship, until one day the mother and the daughter fall out. Meanwhile, Phil begins a relationship with his extremely handsome new classmate Nicholas (Jannik Schümann), despite repeated warnings from his best friend Kat (Svenja Jung) that there is something wrong about the heartthrob. The movie flows seamlessly between present and past, as the 10-year-old twins struggle to come to terms with their mother’s lovers and the mystery surrounding the identity of their real father.

Get ready for an elegant, sexy and thoroughly enjoyable journey into a teenager’s world, more specifically into his first incursion into love. This is a happy-go-lucky, feel-good, clean, conventional and technically accomplished movie. You’re in a manna from heaven if you are an ephebophile (a posh word for those attracted to teenagers; ie most of us!). The camera work is very clever (with jump cuts and fast editing, not too different from a music video), the photography is elegant and sultry (think of a vaguely toned down Pierre et Gilles and you are partway there), plus the soundtrack packed with indie rock is very much fun.

Centre of my World is very beautiful and touching, and never vulgar. But it’s also too perfect: both boys live in astounding mansions, their hair is perfect, their bubble bums are gorgeous, and so is the rest of their body. And of course, there is no homophobia, and everyone (except for Kat) is extremely supportive of their relationship. This sounds ideal, but sometimes it’s hardly relatable. In other words, this is not a very dirty movie.

Another peculiar aspect of the narrative is that it slowly veers away from the gay romance, and the LGBT theme eventually becomes subordinate to something else. Of course this is not a problem: erecting a central pillar of homosexuality is not compulsory for a good film. The problem is that the subplot which ascends into foreground lacks profundity and so the drama at the end of the film becomes a little petty, and the plot becomes somewhat flimsy.

Centre of my World showed at BFI Flare London LGBT Film Festival in March 2017, when this piece was originally written. The film was out in cinemas across the UK in September, and it’s now on BFI Player.

Carol is a great film, just not a very dirty one

Posted on by victorfraga

One year ago, on March 15th, about 100 film experts elected Todd Haynes’s Carol (2015) the greatest LGBT film of all times. The movie topped a list of 30 films that stretches back to the beginning of the last century and includes dirty pearls from all corners of the world. It was compiled in order to celebrate the 30th anniversary of the BFI Flare London Lesbian and Gay Film Festival last year. This year’s edition of the Festival is starting this week – just click here for more information.

I absolutely love Carol, and I have watched it twice with my eyes glued to the screen and my heart pounding with emotions. The movie is thoroughly delectable, and indeed an impeccable masterpiece. But something inside me also found this immaculacy a little awkward. How can a film be so perfect? So I decided to watch it yet again and concluded: Carol is a very clean film, and it does not fit in very well with our concept of a dirty movie.

This is by no means a bad achievement. It’s a natural step in the ascension of a previously marginalised culture within a capitalistic society. The incredibly beautiful Cate Blanchett’s impeccable clothes, hairdo and lifestyle are, in many ways, the epitome of the LGBT bourgeois ideal. The American conservative columnist Jonah Goldberg described this as “a concept subversive to both liberals and conservatives” in his LA Times column in 2010. But a lot has changed since, and LGBT culture has become so pervasive that it’s no longer subversive. In other words, Carol has pushed LGBT culture into the mainstream. Or the other way around (it pushed the mainstream into LGBT culture).

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Carol and Therese’s beauty is very mainstream, and not a departure from Hollywood’s strict standards

Despite the fact that Carol suffers with discrimination and sees her life turned upside down, she still comes across as enviable sample of a human being – from both an attitude and an aesthetical perspective. Plus she’s modelled after the great Hollywood actresses, a very conventional beauty standard. She therefore represents the replication and the perpetuation of long-established role models and ideals: very feminine, plush and preened. And this is not subversive. The same applies to her lover Therese, delivered by Rooney Mara.

The aspiration to live a high life in New York is also central to the movie. There is no doubt that the American metropolis is a mecca for gay people, and a hub for LGBT activism, but also a very mainstream one. In many ways, the shop where Therese works, the restaurants that the lovers visit and even their dwellings represent the concretisation of the American dream. A dream that has now become broader and more inclusive of various sexualities, but which remains extremely restrictive from an economic perspective. A dream that is either unattainable or undesired by the majority of LGBT people around the globe.

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Victor Fraga believes that Fassbinder’s LGBT The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant is more subversive than Carol

What’s happening to LGBT culture?

The bourgeiosation of LGBT culture of course doesn’t happen exclusively in cinema. Transgressive LGBT filmmaker Bruce LaBruce recently told DMovies in an interview: “I sense a certain moralism in the gay world, too. That’s because of the assimilation movement: gay marriage, kids, the military, even transsexuals colluding with the medical establishment. For me things haven’t changed much”. That’s not necessarily a bad trend, but we must be cautious of some possible negative consequences. Pinkwashing can be conveniently used as a lame excuse to cover up and even to justify certain atrocities, such as military action. I wouldn’t like to think that the commoditisation of gay culture cinema will culminate in gay soldiers killing “evil” Arabs and other obnoxious enemies.

Let me emphasise once again that I do like Carol, and that I think it’s an urgent step in the history of LGBT activism. But I don’t think that it’s the greatest LGBT film of all times because it lacks subversive elements. It doesn’t have the controversial streak of Fassbinder, the provocative genius of John Waters or even the shocking antics of Todd Haynes himself in his early films. Carol is not Pink Flamingos (1972), the Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant (1974) and Poison (1991), respectively by the three aforementioned filmmakers.

A champion of change in cinema has to punch viewers in the face, as that’s the only way of cracking the pink glass ceiling. In Carol, Haynes instead gently caresses audiences. Fortunately, other films have previously shattered this glass ceiling. The repressive structure of discrimination just needs a gentle shake before it collapses – and this is what Carol and also this year’s the Best Picture Award winner Moonlight (by Barry Jenkins) are doing right now. The glass ceiling isn’t gone yet, but we are certainly moving in the right direction.

It’s Only The End of The World (Juste la Fin du Monde)

Posted on by mjbstaging

Dear Jean-Luc Lagarce,

It’s all over now, I know. Your struggle finished on September 30th 1995, when you took your last breath. But let’s pretend your death was fictional and it was not the end of the world. If you could only peep from your coffin and read my letter. There are some good news for you.

Your play has been turned into a film! Before you write back to me, perhaps saying you have no interest in cinema, and that very own your life was a tribute to theatre, let me tell you a little bit more. Now your work is universal. Your script was handed to a prodigy French-Canadian filmmaker. He is just 27 and he’s done some terrific films, such as Laurence Anyways (2012), Tom at The Farm (2013) and Mommy (2014). Xavier Dolan is an excellent auteur, who takes excellent care of every single detail. He writes his stories, sometimes he acts, he has ideas for the costume designer and director of photography, and he even creates the props. You should see it as an honour that Dolan developed an interest in someone else’s writing.

In fact, Jean-Luc, Dolan didn’t connect to It’s Only The End of The World at first. He read the play, a suggestion made by the lead role in Mommy, Anne Dorval, and he abandoned the idea of filming it. It was only after meeting Marion Cottilard, Vincent Cassel and Léa Seydoux in Cannes two years ago that he realised they could be a fantastic cast for your play. You cannot foresee, Jean-Luc, what a masterclass in acting they deliver. You might say Léa Seydoux is a top model, but she is perfect for the role of a tomboy! Together with Nathalie Baye and Gaspard Ulliel, they embellish and give an extra dimension to your writing.

Do not worry about the authenticity of the film. Your nervous words are in the film. Dolan knew perfectly well that one of the strongest aspects of the film is the conversation between all members of the family, and all that is left behind because they are incapable of expressing it. Everyone in the house instinctively acknowledges that Louis (Ulliel) has a good reason to return to his hometown after 12 years, but they cannot guess that he is dying. Not him of all people, the successful writer who had the courage of leaving the toxic family. And when Dolan found that it was necessary to include a scene that was not originally in your play, he emulated your style. If you read it, you’d probably think his words are yours.

But a film is not a play, you might say, you can look at the landscape and get distracted. The tension is gone. Well, Jean-Luc, this is why Dolan explores close-ups ad nauseam. The intimate study of your characters are on their faces. Take the ride with Antoine (Cassel), when he tries to get closer to the brother he envies. There is fury in his eyes, in his hands, even in his ears. He cannot even listen to his brother Louis. Louis is the symbol of freedom, of all Antoine wanted and could never get, though in reality this freedom is about to end abruptly.

What about the melancholy? Is it in the film, too? Yes, it’s in its colours, predominantly blue. And in the props – the photo album, the postcards -, in the desire to revisit the house they lived as children, in the tragic revelation that Louis’s first lover has died of cancer.

Remarkably, the film is not sad. It’s centred on a celebration. The family is waiting for the prodigious revenant. The soundtrack contributes to it. Dolan picks up one of the most kitsch Brazilian songs ever made, Latino’s ‘Festa no Apê‘, and uses it in a magical scene in which all of them surrender to joy.

Jean-Luc, I wish you could see this picture. It won the Grand Prix in Cannes and it was in BFI London Film Festival in October 2016, when this piece was originally published. It’s now out in cinemas, and also the the BFI Flare London LGBT Film Festival – just click here for more information.

…

Jean-Luc Lagarce (14 February 1957 – 30 September 1995) was a French actor, theatre director and playwright. Although only moderately successful during his lifetime, since his death he has become the one of the most widely-produced contemporary French playwrights.

Xavier Dolan’s It’s Only the End of the World is on Mubi from December 30th, 2020.