Weekend

This is a post I wrote for New Years, but due to last minute hassles with moving to Bangkok, I never got around to posting it. But I thought before I post my thoughts on Andrew Haigh's next project, Looking (which finishes its first season in next week), I might as well finish this off, and the start of the weekend seems like an appropriate time to finally post it:


One of my favourite recent films is Andrew Haigh’s Weekend. It’s a well written, tightly directed, and beautifully acted film about a late night hook-up between shy, semi-closeted lifeguard Russell and outspoken artist Glen that morphs into a weekend of discovery and perhaps something more.

It received quite positive reviews and was a bit of a sensation among the gay film bloggers. For me, the most interesting aspect of the film is its subtle exploration of space. Space in our lives manifests itself as distance and time, dreams and aspirations, and conflict and intimacy.

Weekend, most literally, documents the wondrous space between Friday and Monday, that brief period between the monotony of the work week where perhaps something special might happen: friend gatherings, parties are held, chance meetings and hope arises anew.

On this particular weekend, Glen and Russell flirt at a night club and spend the night together. Throughout the film, Haigh's unobtrusive camera floats among and between them as they drift back and forth between each other. Glen is almost always the initiator of contact while Russell isolates himself in corners of rooms, in the high chair of his lifeguard post, on his bike against the traffic, and alone in his high rise apartment.

It is through this connection that they explore themselves and each other. Can Glen’s inquisitiveness draw out Russell? Can Russell’s quiet empathy and compassion calm Glen’s erratic search for meaning? They do, at least for the weekend. Case in point, this morning after conversation:

Glen: Well, you know what it's like when you first sleep with someone you don't know?  

Russell: Yes.  

Glen: It's... you, like, become this blank canvas and it gives you an opportunity to project onto that canvas who you want to be. That's what's interesting because everybody does that.  

Russell: So do you think that I did it?  

Glen: 'Cause you did. Well, what happens is while you're projecting who you want to be... this gap opens up between who you want to be and who you really are. And in that gap, it shows you what's stopping you becoming who you want to be.

This scene perfectly captures the post-coital, morning after haze of intimacy and curiosity that can accompany a new hook-up, that fresh, hopeful feeling; hopeful that  taking a risk and opening up (at the bar, in the bedroom) can jumpstart your life and focus you onto what it is you really want. The film tells you to go there. As with the Before movies, the open ended conclusion seems to pose the question: are you a cynic, realist or romantic? Will their long-distance romance could work? I'm a hopeless romantic and I think it will, but for me, the most important thing was that both of them wore their heart on their sleeve and went for it. 

Over a year ago I met the love of my life over one amazing weekend. After not seeing each other for a couple of years, he visited me in Perth, having had a relaxing week in WA's beautiful Margaret River. We picnicked in the gardens overlooking Perth’s spectacular harbour, had lovely dinners, and saw a movie under the stars. By the end of the weekend, I did not want it to end and proposed the long distance relationship. He was more pragmatic and risk averse, tears were shed and more realistic expectations were set. And here we are, one whirlwind year later (9 months of which were long distance), still together, though the physical space is greater than ever as he has been in Bangkok for 6 weeks and I'm waiting at Canberra International Airport off on a new adventure with him for 3 years.

I’ve learned a lot of things this past year, and one of those things is how important it is to recognise that space plays such a fundamental role in our lives. That the space between who we are and who we want to be not only drives us, but is the story of our lives. If we are ever in stasis, we’re learning from the past and looking to the future. If we aim to be connected, if we desire to be intimate, then we must accept that there is space between us and who we desire, and we must bravely bridge that gap. That person you’re interested across the room, across the continent, who you think is outside of your league? Take a risk and go to him. It's worth it.