Priscilla

Drag queens parading down the street, lip-syncing to the music pumping in the background, a bus in the background. Is this The Adventures of Priscilla: Queen of the Desert or is it the annual Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras parade? To my young self, they were one and the same. A world of flamboyance, overt sexuality, torch songs, deep hurt, and discrimination. This was how the world presented the gay world to me, and how I was imagining the world I would be part of.

I arrived in Australia from Vietnam as a 5 year old in 1991. By the time the grand bus came to cinemas in 1994, swept the world and won a well deserved Academy Award for best costume design, I was 8 and had no idea that Priscilla existed. (1994 was also the first year that the Mardi Gras parade was first broadcast on commercial television). It was not until 2 years later when it was broadcast on free-to-air television that the film registered on my radar.

At 10 years old, my sexuality was starting to develop and I started to have an inkling that I was more interested in boys than girls. Sex, let alone being gay, was not something that was discussed in my family. Nor, at the time, was homosexuality discussed in any media or tv show readily assessible to a 10 year old. Sure, there may have been more adult tv dramas and some art house movies, but it was hard out there for a young gay kid from the western suburbs of Sydney to find early 90s gay representation. (That's why I also have a soft spot for Philadelphia, which also received this VHS treatment. Whatever your qualms about its quality, it nevertheless was much more accessible than the independent queer films of that time!)

But, as kids are wont to do, the topic surfaces in some way, and I knew somehow that there was this thing called Mardi Gras and drag queens, and they were the 'other' that I could possibly, scarily and completely unwittingly, could be part of. Then came the ads for Priscilla and lo and behold, here was something that piqued my interest. I can't remember dates and times - it was all a pre-puberty blur. But I remember that there was a curious little secret I had, something no-one talked about so it had to be hidden, something special but also something scary. So I secretly videotaped the movie when it was on. Full of nerves, I watched bits and pieces of it when I could, since I could not really chance someone in my family finding me watching it.

In this way, I don't think I fully really watched the film until much later in life. Like these secret opportunities I had, all I remember of the film were mere imprints and impressions of what this 'other' life was about. I could not tell you what I thought of the plot, character development, or anything else. These were the individual impressions I remember:

• This movie was strange, and there were so many things I didn't understand and just glossed over. Mainly: most, if not all, of the sexual jokes. Having said that:
• The film made me realise (or confirm) one thing: Men were sexy, and this was something that somewhere inside I knew to be true. It was great to see it on screen. Guy Pearce shirtless was my gateway drug - his abs, his pecs, his arms, his cheekbones. He had that toned underwear model body that paraded around at Mardi Gras. If anything, this confirmed my attraction to male bodies. What was important here was that my attraction was purely physical, I found. My earlier attractions was to a boy named Paul from my year 4 class - the classic nice guy who was voted class captain because everyone liked him. Here, Felicia was a troubled, acerbic, sarcastic personality, one that that I was not at ease at, and yet I still found him attractive. Yep, I liked men.
• This film was weird. I realise looking back, that the film is a masterclass tonally, swaying between sexy, scary, funny and (to 10 year old me) quite creepy at times. Case in point: the bathtub flashback scene played between scary and dark humour. I don't think I had been exposed previously to dark humour and tonal changes. As I have discovered later in life, I am not very particular to dark humour - I'm too delicate a flower!
• The costumes, of course, were amazingly fun. Even a young me appreciated that!
• The scenery too was beautiful and iconic. A cock in a frock on a rock indeed.

For all of the above individual impressions, the overriding impression I got was that this was a strange strange world. Did this world really exist? If so, was I automatically going to be in? Was I going to automatically become one of the characters? Which one? Did I belong in this world? Would I like it?  For me, Priscilla asked more questions than it answered. How exhausting!

I wish I had a window to my thoughts and feelings back then, to see how I processed it and what I did with it. Perhaps, a young me, took in what I could. I know that, like many others would have, I would have proceeded to bury those thoughts and feelings, just like I would hid the VHS tape back in the recesses of my room.

Looking back, I missed out on all the nuances and depth to this film. My objective view of the film is pretty much like the consensus view - a great gay film, with maybe some outdated views on race. But a time capsule it remains. I'm grateful for the film because, for me, it remains a time capsule of the beginning of my gay awakening. And it introduced me to this sexy stud muffin!

Further reading:
Don’t Let Them Drag You Down: The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert from Senses of Cinema
Soundtracking: "The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert" from The Film Experience
Camping it out in the Never Never: Subverting Hegemonic Masculinity in The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert (Stephan Elliott, 1994)
Curator's Notes - Australian Screen

Hello world ... again

Forgive me internet for I have sinned. It has been months and years since my last blog post. I tried another blog, I tried other things, and now I’ve come back. How many hail marys do I need to do? Maybe it’s time to let the old ways die. That might mean letting this blog go, or rather, more optimistically, it means pivoting and trying something new. Here is my new approach to this blog to atone for my sins.

A person is made up of many things - many characteristics, many experiences, many thoughts and many behaviours. You can’t define them by a singular aspect. So it is with me. Having said this, there may be a few key defining aspects of what makes up who I am. The way my life has progressed, a significant aspect of my identity is my sexuality. It is not my only defining characteristic, and I’m not defined by my sexuality, but many important parts of my life have been related to my sexuality. It is the first significant internal characteristic of mine that was not immediately obvious, such as my gender, my ethnicity, or my family background. It is a part of me that has fed my introspectivity. It’s formed part of my views on social justice. It’s led me to standing up and announcing myself. It was the theme of my 21st party, and part of the theme of my first (of only 2) short films. It’s led me to some career choices, to friends, to lovers, and to a lifelong partner. So yes, it is not all of me, but, in the context of my life and the times that i grew up in (and continue to live), my sexuaility is definitely a major part of me. I’m grateful that, while there were some challenging moments, it has turned to be such a positive experience for me. I know not everyone has that same fortune.

Cinema is of course another important aspect of my life. It has been the main medium in which I’ve engage with culture. I’ve studied it. I understand its form, its techniques, its language. It’s a relatively accessible, not-too-time consuming art form that can burrow deep into the hearts and minds of auteurs and audiences alike. It’s a window into other cultures and foreign narratives. It can be force for introspection, a force for social change, and a force for the good ol’ ugly cry. I love nothing more than a good 2 or 3 hours of sitting in the dark reflecting on those images that reflect back onto me.

I’ve come to realise that getting into an in-depth series about the gay films that are personally important to me seemed a natural fit for this current attempt at restarting this blog. I’ve realised that I cannot do continuous blogging about a breadth of films and events. It takes too much out of me, something equivalent to ‘small talk’ for an introvert. So instead, for 2019, I’m going to invest my time into a year long deep dive project into the queer films (and one or two television shows) that have a profound impact on me.

So where to begin? As a queer fairy godmother once said: It’s always good to start at the beginning.

But, like sexuality itself can be, it is quite hard to identify exactly that first image, that first film, that first cultural artefact, that had an influence on me and made me question or clarify my sexuality. In the 90s, I recall television soaps, underwear ads, music videos, featuring men and women (but mostly men) who piqued my interest. Like the fog that was my childhood and most children’s understanding of sexuality, I imagine there was a blur of images and cultural texts that lay the groundwork for me to question my sexuality. I should mention 2 particular film-related things that stand out.

I was unwittingly introduced to the Wizard of Oz in primary school. We were sat down in the classroom to watch the movie one afternoon, and then told that we would be staging a production of the movie. A friend of mine ended up playing Dorothy, and I, with my impeccable acting skills, was going to play one of the monkeys chasing her. I can’t profess to this experience awakening any particular sexual curiosity in me. I do recall specifically remember that glorious technicolor reveal, and it made me suddenly realise that I had been watching a sepia toned film. What the film had presented as normal had been radically transformed. I think from that early age it began my awareness of storytelling, and particularly film storytelling. Perhaps it also opened the way for me to question the reality that I was being told. I know for sure that my involvement did set me up to know the quotes from the movie very well, and remains one of the movies I can quote incessantly, along with Clueless and all the Galadriel scenes from the Lord of the Rings movies.

The other significant text, not a film per se, was of course my sex education cartoon video my Year 5 teacher showed us one afternoon. My family were totally silent on the topic of sexuality, and I don’t recall exactly what I knew or didn’t know at the time. I do remember that the film itself was very educational in the ways of sex and reproduction. A particular comical scene showed a teenage boy at a swimming pool, about to jump off the diving board. Alas, as some girls walked past, he popped a prominent boner right at the .. ahem … tip of the board. The class erupted in laughter at an in-joke that I was blissfully unaware. The factual education I had received prior was soon dwarfed by the emotional discovery from that experience. I didn’t have that experience that they had - I hadn’t popped a boner, and I didn’t know what the joke was. I think at the time I didn’t know exactly why this was the case, and I don’t think i was significantly unnerved by it. On reflection, this could have been because I had not fully experienced puberty, but I have the sneaking suspicion that deep down I know I didn’t feel that way for girls as depicted in the video. Rather, somehow, somewhere deep down, it explained the curious looks I gave to a fellow classmate, Paul, at our school camp some months before. Whatever it was, I don’t think I particularly panicked, but that feeling that I was different (for this reason) remained. In many ways, I am so grateful to this video, for educating me and giving me this experience. Thanks to the internet, I’ve since discovered this was a pretty widely known and shown cartoon called ‘What is happening to me’. Coincidentally, it was made in 1986, the same year I was born! What a coincidence.

And one more thing ... as I thnk about what I plan to write over the next year, there are a few glaring omissions. Blindspots in my 'gay' education. Films I watched later in life that were amazing but did not profoundly affect me because of timing and circumstance. Films that objectively were amazing that I just did not connect with. There have been so much great writing about all these films. What I intend to do is contribute to it through my personal experience. It's the best I can offer.

And so with that, I’ll proceed with the movie that I think had the first profound effect on little ol' gay me … The Adventures of Priscilla: Queen of the Desert… stay tuned!

Lady From Shanghai

Like many viewers, I was introduced to The Lady From Shanghai from Woody Allen's Manhattan Murder Mystery through the famous and mesmerizing final sequences. When I finally watched the full movie as part of The Film Experience's excellent Hit Me With Your Best Shot series, the film proved to be just as mesmerizing.

One of my reservations about film noir has always been the protagonist's immediate weak spot for the femme fatale. As beautiful and seductive as the femme fatale may be, and Rita Hayworth is great, I can never truly believe. Unfortunately that is one of the mainstays of the genre, and I always have to suspend my disbelief.

What is more credible is the portrayal of modern relationships, modern society and in particular how its mores and laws can be manipulated. Once it is accepted that Michael has fallen head over heals for Elsa, the story moves through locales and relationships, establishing who is manipulating whom, and how the social structures around them allow that to happen. The film shows how to manipulate the laws of the time (in which a prosecution could not be made without the murdered body), and how Bannister easily manipulates the judge and jury during the trial with his farcical self cross-examination.

My favourite shot shows the relationship between manipulations and society, and the murkiness of our social conscience in this context:

In this shot, placed in the middle of the nervous waiting of the characters as the jury deliberates, the judge is playing a chess game with himself as his office overlooks San Francisco (and Shanghai perhaps in the distance?). I love how the white chess pieces are doubly reflected. First through the city backdrop, the bridge piers mirroring the two knights, the city buildings mirroring the pawns. The city is a symbol of civilization and justice, standing firm against the impending darkness of the clouds. In the background, the moral leaders, the king and queen (the government), the bishop (religion), and the castle (the military?) are in stasis, prominently mirrored in the window reflection. They are in shadow, a bit murky, more grey than white, letting the knights and pawns do the work for them.

And just above them, equally grey, is the judge's floating reflection. As one of society's figureheads, he is worrisome, indecisive, and ultimately, within the plot, ineffective against the manipulations of the protagonists. In the courtroom scenes, we see the Judge easily manipulated by Bannister's sophistic showmanship. Here, he is agonizing on how to play the game, his white team of justice trying to hold back the advancing and unseen darkness. Ultimately, it is up to the jury, his fellow citizens of the city, to decide Michael's fate. But even that too is elusive, as Michael and the rest take justice in their own hands, moving the chest pieces around at the own will. Sometimes justice will prevail, but only in the movies, and even then there will always be casualties.

Bright Star

It's been a while since I participated in The Film Experience's excellent Hit Me With Your Best Shot series (and in fact, a while since I've blogged at all). But I couldn't miss an opportunity to write about one of my favourite directors. I couldn't resist deciding my favourite shot from Jane Campion's gorgeous film Bright Star, but I almost didn't make it through the whole film - it was nearly over before it even began.

Campion's films are so visually textured and mesmerizing that this opening credit itself was almost enough to be the best shot for me. What is better than the promise of beauty and the sublime?

A 2 hour visual feast, as it turns out. What I love most about Bright Star is its ability to be a cinematic encapsulation of the poetry of John Keats. Early in the film, John explains to Fanny that a "poem needs understanding through the senses. The point of diving into a lake is not immediately to swim to the shore but to be in the lake, to luxuriate in the sensation of water. You do not work the lake out, it is a experience beyond thought. Poetry soothes and emboldens the soul to accept the mystery." 

That may be also be Campion's mission statement for the film, and she succeeds abundantly. We are washed over with close ups of the lives of bees and butterflies, wide shots showcasing the exquisite beauty of fields of flowers, and tracking shots capturing the intricate designs of branches in wintry woods. 

Campion's camera is not only focused on nature, but also on the interior domesticity of her characters, and in particular Fanny. The opening shot of needle and thread symbolises the delicate detail that is the focus of Campion's eye. The following close up of the embroidery highlights how effectively the camera can convey tactile sensations, as well as celebrate arts of all different kinds. This revelry in art and detail, both exterior and interior, permeates the film.

Of the many wonderfully tactile images in the film, one of my favourites is this shot of Fanny looking out through the window.

From the camera's perspective, we, as voyeurs ourselves, are watching another voyeur discover something outside. What is it that she spies beyond the boundaries of her domesticity, fenced off by windows and hidden behind opaque curtains? What life is out there in nature? What curiosities and passions await to be discovered? For Fanny, all of that is answered in John Keats, lying on the grass, looking back at her.

It is no surprise that their first passionate kiss is outside in the gardens. Or that they symbolically play a game of statues afterwards, hoping to forever capture their bliss. And true to the understated ambiance of the film, Fanny does not run home and shout out her emotions. Instead, in what is my pick for best shot, she sits down in her bed, calming contemplating as emotions surely bubble underneath:

Trust Campion to not rely on words, but to instead let images do the talking. In this sublime scene, the curtains, once a barrier, now begin to softly wave into the room, allowing the refreshing breeze from outside to nourish the bare and plain interior. It blows and flaps until it almost weightlessly engulfs Fanny, until the breath of fresh air/love flows directly into her. For in this moment, she is on cloud nine, and all she can do is luxuriate in her emotions and her dreams of all the possible romantic possibilities that she can see beyond her window.

As an audience, we are also enraptured. Like Fanny, all we can do is sit up and luxuriate in the fresh air of Campion's vision, perfectly captured and framed, floating on the screen before our very eyes, soothing and emboldening our souls.

Throwback Thursday: Looking from the window above ...

Last week's episode of Looking ended with Patrick and Kevin tentatively exchanging I Love Yous with each other. The screen fades to black as the synthesizer sounds of Yazoo's Only You begins. It's the type of sweet 80s pop that usually resonates for me, hearkening back to my childhood. But for some reason, this song felt particularly special. What did this song remind me of? What memories did it trigger? It took a few days for me to work it out, but finally, it came back to me:

 

This was one of the most perfect moments I've ever witnessed on television. Sweet as the kiss is in isolation, the impact of the kiss increases because of the drawn out sexual tension of the previous two seasons, as well as because of the fact that it was the warmest moment of an otherwise (brilliantly) uncomfortable show. It just warms my heart.

I've been enjoying this season of Looking - it just gets better and better - but it's not there yet. Let's hope the final episodes bring everything to a climax.