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Wicked Fun

  • Down with his bad self: Testosterone

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    Testosterone  (2003)

     

    I loved so many things about David Moreton's Testosterone that it's hard to know where to begin: I was thrilled to see a movie called Testosterone in which heterosexuality was marginalized and machismo was not claimed as the exclusive domain of male breeders; in which the hero — graphic novelist Dean Seagraves (David Sutcliffe) — was an angry, unapologetic, passionate, deranged queer boy going full steam ahead to get resolution (or at least answers) from his boyfriend, Pablo, who disappears one night after leaving to buy cigarettes.

    I loved that Dean doesn't (pardon the expression) pussyfoot around, that when he unexpectedly spots Pablo's mother (Sonia Braga) at an art exhibition he doesn't hesitate to confront her. I loved that all the gay men in the film were assertive, ravishing and indiscreet. How often have we all seen movies built around straight men who would stop at nothing to reclaim their lost female loves?

    Don't get me wrong on this next one, but Testosterone defends the right of queer men to be pricks as big as our straight brothers. It celebrates our raging male libido. In fact, it trivializes and lionizes it at the same time. Sofia (Celina Font) who helps Dean along the way in this film that is equal parts, mystery, melodrama and black satire, has the best line: "I try never to get between a man and his penis." Or words to that effect.

    Let's see - what else? I loved the tone. Dean rages and rushes and stalks about on his quest while the retro-jazzy, musical score undercuts it, suggesting that poor Dean might be taking all this just a little too seriously. This of course is the epiphany that all of us, driven mad by love, must embrace, usually later than sooner. I loved the dialogue. Marcos, an exquisitely cute guy Dean meets along the way asks if he can share the bed with him. Dean replies: "No, see, I've got a full day of stalking ahead of me tomorrow..." The script is peppered with rough, wry, multi-layered exchanges that are intelligent and poignant.

    I loved the imagery: Dean using a stray dog he's befriended as a pillow when he sleeps in a graveyard, Dean defiantly eating wedding cake as Pablo's new bride antagonizes him (never has a bride seemed more extraneous at her own wedding)Dean undressing Marcos while making out and talking suggestively about bad Catholic school boys, Pablo (Antonio Sabato, Jr.) baiting Dean in a way that call his motives into serious question.

    I loved the women. None of the female characters — Pablo's mother, Sofia, or Dean's agent (played by Jennifer Coolidge) — are what you would call "nurturers." They are tough, sardonic, articulate and direct; they neither romanticize nor weaken women. In fact, they're often scary and vindictive. Sonia Braga is steely and merciless. Celina Font is kind but never naive. Jennifer Coolidge (most recently seen in A Cinderella Story, A Mighty Wind and television's Joey) has lost all trace of her ditsy, hare-brained shtick. She's still got that whiskey-voice, though, and when she bitches that she had to "lick that guy's ass for two hours" to cover for Dean, she's completely believable.

    I loved the surprises too, many of which I hope I haven't revealed. Suffice it to say that our expectations and assumptions are often confounded. Our feelings about previous events change as the plot evolves and we consider them in retrospect.

    I loved the ironies: Dean Seagraves is a graphic novelist, an art form many are unable to distinguish from comic books. In a way Testosterone is an homage to comic book romance and heroism, but not in the visual sense; say like in Spiderman 2 or Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow. It's more about the bizarre (yet somehow valid) attempt on Dean's part to salvage his spirit using comic book ideology. He sees his personal romantic struggle in grotesquely disproportionate terms, as do many of us.

    Throughout the film, the other characters tell him to wake up, to go home, he's wasting his time. And it's not just because he won't face the excruciating truth, but the added taboo that he's a man chasing another man. In Mike Nichols' recent film, Closer (adapted from the Patrick Marber play) he suggests that male/female sexuality is tactically motivated by men's contempt for each other.

    Dean's queer obsession (unwise as it may be) is expressed as fulfillment of his manhood, rather than a subversion of it. And his insane, psychopathic behavior is ultimately vindicated. Testosterone shows us both sides of the coin, shows us the truth of leading with our dicks - the glory as well as the stupidity. It's smart, erotic, wrenching, and funny. Maybe unforgettable.


  • Dogboy: O FANTASMA

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    O Fantasma  (2000)

     

    Joao Pedro Rodrigues' O Fantasma is a rich, spellbinding celebration of raw male adolescent sexuality unlike any film I have ever seen. It is a paean to tawdry, squalid, horndog homo-sex. A glorious reverent escapade in shamelessness. But far more than that, it soars. It is poetry culled the from the trash heap of a mean and meager world where imperative need turns us all into scavengers. Lyricism from the reckless rush of teenage testosterone that grips us in its bite and shakes us like a rag doll.

    Ricardo Meneses, in what has to be one of the most auspicious film debuts of all time, captures all the urgency, electricity and innocence of male coming-of-age without affectation or apology. He is so completely intuitive and unselfconscious that his most outrageous behavior seems plausible and rational. Even sympathetic. 17 when he auditioned for a role that has almost no dialogue, and self-identified as straight, he nonetheless copped to several same-gender experiences, which he readily admitted enjoying.

    The eroticism of his character, Sergio, is so infectious, even cops can't resist tantalizing him with their nightsticks. But when he responds to their rough foreplay, it is with rapacious defiance. He is emboldened by the sheer velocity of his hunger. Meneses has the looks of a young Brendan Fraser, the swagger of James Dean, and charisma that is his alone. He takes the torch from Dean, who might have made such a film, had he been born in more enlightened times.

    O Fantasma translates from the Portuguese as: The Phantom. It is the story of Sergio, a garbage collector who seems to have no friends, but plenty of male sexual contacts. He cares for a dog named (appropriately enough) Lorde. Lorde is Sergio's consort, soul-twin, familiar. O Fantasma takes its core conceit from doggy behavior. Sergio almost seems to revel in canine ritual. Marking territory, rooting through garbage, nuzzling and sniffing articles of clothing. Like a dog he is opportunistic, indiscriminate, beyond humiliation. Like a dog his senses are amplified and intense.

    Only truly alive when acting out, his sexuality overflows into other elements of his life. Again, it is Ricardo Meneses' flawless performance that vindicates the fantastic content. He has such utter conviction, such focus, that what might have seemed ludicrous or repugnant becomes a revelation. He approaches fetishes instinctively, as if he's the first one to discover them. Ever. There is a splendid scene where he strips naked except for biker's gloves, and, like Mishima's first glimpse of Sebastian's martyrdom, his hands seize a mind of their own.

    Admittedly, women do not fare well in O Fantasma The key female character, Fatima, is treated with bemusement and contempt. Mostly she's the victim of alpha-dominance and the whore/Madonna split so prevalent in macho patriarchies. There may be some balance at work, here, though, when you consider how many film-buddies bond by fucking women at the same time.  Sex validation is an experience too often denied the queer male audience in theatrical cinema, but O Fantasma raucously rocks the boat.

    Sergio doesn't prowl because he's wicked; he prowls because he's lonely and lost. His unabashed need for male contact makes him even more alluring, even more impossible to resist. Rodriques enacts what Camille Paglia described as the queer male ability to construct sex altars anywhere (alleys, bathrooms, warehouses) because sex is a sacrament unto itself. Rodriques tries to redeem us from the self-hatred that fills the tearooms and cruise parks. Sergio is a post-Apocalyptic Dionysus manifested as hound/stalker/phantom. A voluptuary who finds expiation in brief, extreme sexual encounters. Orgasms are his last refuge from despair.

    The sex in O Fantasma is graphic but never feels gratuitous or lurid. In the 1971 Peter Bogdanovich released what may be the best coming-of-age film for straight teenagers, (and a great film, besides) The Last Picture Show. There was a frank theme of homoeroticism in Larry McMurtry's novel that sadly, never made it to the screen. In The Last Picture Show, the promise of sex was smoldering, but consummation, poisonous. Mostly it just left everybody feeling more isolated. In O Fantasma, the sex also feels genuine, bleak, but different, somehow. We ache for Sergio because libido shackles his spirit. But it also precipitates transformation. Mutation. His skulking and spivving, his junky, frantic longing spins him out of orbit. Rockets him to the stars.

    I am not certain that O Fantasma is covering new subject matter, but I can tell you that it is original, powerful, and groundbreaking. It's both subtle and astonishing. Good films entertain you, hold your attention, surprise you. Great films do all that, and then, they take you to places you've never dreamed. O Fantasma is not only a great Queer-Themed Movie; it is an extraordinary film that transcends any genre.


 

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