I very much admired Disclosure, the insightful – and even revelatory – documentary about the depiction of trans people in film and television and the impacts of that depiction.
The best thing about Disclosure is the unfiltered trans voice – near as I can tell, 100% of the subjects and talking heads are trans or non-binary people, and it’s an uncommonly articulate bunch. I found the most compelling to be Emmy-winning actress Laverne Cox (Orange Is the New Black), actress/writer Jen Richards (Tales of the City), producer Zackary Drucker (Transparent) and actress Candis Cayne (Dirty Sexy Money).
The first 25 minutes – tracing depiction of trans people in film since D.W. Griffin’s silents – is not riveting. But stay with it – Disclosure pays off big time with these moving personal stories. Near the end, Jen Richards comments on an accepting parent that she saw in another documentary – get out the Kleenex for this moment.
I had always thought of Jaye Davidson’s Oscar nomination for her performance as Dil in The Crying Game as a step forward for trans people. It’s complicated. I had always viewed Stephen Rea’s reaction in the Big Reveal scene from my straight male perspective (cis, if you insist); Disclosure made me consider the trans woman’s lens, too.
Haaz Sleiman and Michael Cassidy in BREAKING FAST. Photo courtesy of Cinequest.
In Breaking Fast, successful physician Dr. Mo (Haaz Sleiman) is a practicing Muslim who is out to his family, friends and work colleagues; although he lives in West Hollywood, he’s not part of the gay club scene. He has a longtime boyfriend Hassan (Patrick Sabongui), and Mo’s most flamboyant behavior is scoring the best desserts from the local Middle Eastern bakery for family gatherings.
Hassan’s family is not so tolerant, and Hassan – buried deep in the closet – believes that he must enter a sham heterosexual marriage, which Mo cannot stomach, and they split. Then, Mo meets meets Kal (Michael Cassidy), sparks fly, and the audience recognizes that Kal is perfect for Mo. But Kal is neither Arab nor Muslim, and Mo is still obsessed with losing Hassan. A romantic dramedy ensues.
The term “Gay-rab” pops up. And there is a stereotypical Gay Best Friend, Sam (Amin El Gamal), who is so gay that his party features a gospel choir singing Happy Birthday.
Sleiman is an adorable lead, and the flawless main characters must navigate a straightforward conflict.
This is a first feature by writer-director Mike Mosallam. He delivers solid entertainment here, elevated with insights into the quandaries faced by LGBTQ Muslim-Americans. Authentic-seeming cultural glimpses in the lives of Arab-Americans, Muslim-Americans and LGBTQ LA are a bonus.
There’s even an effective cameo by Veronica Cartwright. BTW it’s good to see these Arab-American actors getting chance to play something other than terrorists on episodic TV.
Although the most striking aspect of Breaking Fast is its breaking ground on the topic of LGBTQ Muslims, we should note that it’s a romantic comedy about someone on his forties, which isn’t all that that common, either.
So, this is just another gay Muslim romantic comedy…I predict that Breaking Fast will become the Feel Good hit of the 2020 Cinequest. And I wouldn’t bet against Breaking Fast getting a shot at theatrical distribution. Cinequest hosts the world premiere of Breaking Fast.
MAKING MONTGOMERY CLIFT, directed by Robert Anderson Clift and Hilary Demmon
The best documentary in this year’s Frameline festival was Making Montgomery Clift, from directors Robert Anderson Clift and Hilary Demmon. It’s an unexpectedly insightful and nuanced probe into the life of Clift’s uncle, the movie star Montgomery Clift. And it explodes some of the lore that has shaped popular understanding of Montogomery Clift.
Clift is the son of Brooks Clift, Montgomery Clift’s brother and archivist. The younger Clift never met his uncle Monty, but had access to his father’s vast collection of Monty memorabilia and to the memories of family, friends and previous biographers.
Many of us think we know the arc of Montgomery Clift’s life: success as a 1950s movie heartthrob is torpedoed by the inner torment of his closeted homosexuality; then alcoholic self-medication and disfigurement from an auto accident propel him into drunken despair and an early death. It turns out to be a much, much more nuanced story.
It turns out that some in the Clift family indulged in secret audio taping to a jaw-dropping degree. Directors Clift and Demmon take full advantage of the actual conversations of Monty and others. Their gift is to drop in the most startling revelations without lingering or even emphasizing them. To watch Making Montgomery Clift is a constant exercise in “wait…WHAT?” Demmon’s brisk editing helps, too.
How tormented was Monty by his sexuality (which we learn was a robust bisexuality)? Witnesses – who would know – let us know that Monty was comfortable in his own skin and fairly open – for the times – about his sexuality. This wasn’t Rock Hudson or Tab Hunter.
We learn that Montgomery Clift’s refusal to sign a studio contract was to preserve BOTH his artistic independence and his sexual independence (avoiding being forced into faux marriage and the like).
Making Montgomery Clift also discredits the view that Monty sank into depression after the accident changed his looks. His personally most satisfying performances came AFTER the accident.
The insights into Monty’s artistic process are unique and significant. We hear the actual conversation between Montgomery Clift and director Stanley Kramer about Clift’s riveting cameo in Judgment at Nuremberg. Monty’s intentionality in shaping the scene dispels the myth that, instead of giving a performance, he had an actual breakdown before the camera. Yes, he was acting it, and it was spectacular.
There has been a handful of recent showbiz biodocs made by younger relatives of the famous artists. Usually, these films add some personal family anecdotes, but are so fond of their subjects that they’re not especially insightful. Making Montgomery Clift is not that – it ascends above the pack – and should change how all of us understand Monty Clift.
Making Montgomery Clift is available to stream on Amazon.
The best documentary in this year’s Frameline festival may be Making Montgomery Clift, from directors Robert Anderson Clift and Hilary Demmon. It’s an unexpectedly insightful and nuanced probe into the life of Clift’s uncle, the movie star Montgomery Clift. And it explodes some of the lore that has shaped popular understanding of Montogomery Clift.
Clift is the son of Brooks Clift, Montogmery Clift’s brother and archivist. The younger Clift never met his uncle Monty, but had access to his father’s vast collection of Monty memorabilia and to the memories of family, friends and previous biographers.
Many of us think we know the arc of Montgomery Clift’s life: success as a 1950s movie heartthrob is torpedoed by the inner torment of his closeted homosexuality; then alcoholic self-medication and disfigurement from an auto accident propel him into drunken despair and an early death. It turns out to be a much, much more nuanced story.
It turns out that some in the Clift family indulged in secret audio taping to a jaw-dropping degree. Directors Clift and Demmon take full advantage of the actual conversations of Monty and others. Their gift is to drop in the most startling revelations without lingering or even emphasizing them. To watch Making Montgomery Clift is a constant exercise in “wait…WHAT?” Demmon’s brisk editing helps, too.
How tormented was Monty by his sexuality (which we learn was a robust bisexuality)? Witnesses – who would know – let us know that Monty was comfortable in his own skin and fairly open – for the times – about his sexuality. This wasn’t Rock Hudson or Tab Hunter.
We learn that Montgomery Clift’s refusal to sign a studio contract was to preserve BOTH his artistic independence and his sexual independence (avoiding being forced into faux marriage and the like).
Making Montgomery Clift also discredits the view that Monty sank into depression after the accident changed his looks. His personally most satisfying performances came AFTER the accident.
The insights into Monty’s artistic process are unique and significant. We hear the actual conversation between Montgomery Clift and director Stanley Kramer about Clift’s riveting cameo in Judgment at Nuremberg. Monty’s intentionality in shaping the scene dispels the myth that, instead of giving a performance, he had an actual breakdown before the camera. Yes, he was acting it, and it was spectacular.
There has been a handful of recent showbiz biodocs made by younger relatives of the famous artists. Usually, these films add some personal family anecdotes, but are so fond of their subjects that they’re not especially insightful. Making Montgomery Clift is not that – it ascends above the pack – and should change how all of us understand Monty Clift.
Carmen y Lola is a sexual coming of age story set among urban Romani people in contemporary Spain. 16-year-old Lola (Zaira Romero) is a smart, talented and feisty kid; she knows that she likes girls and wants a career; how she can do either within her traditional Romani culture is a dilemma. Buoyant 17-year-old Carmen (Rosy Rodriguez) embraces her future – being married off to a handsome young Roma man – but meeting Lola awakens her to other choices – and to her own sexual preference.
I’ve seen movies about the Romani people (widely known as Gypsies) before – usually historical period pieces and always with itinerant Romani. There are no wagons or RVs in Carmen y Lola; these characters live in the hardscrabble suburbs of Madrid. (Almost 2% of Spain’s population is Romani.)
We also get to see the ugly face of anti-Romani prejudice (which I’ve just learned is called antiziganism). Carmen y Lola is unsparing in its point of view that the Romani are held down by both external racism and some of their own patriarchal and anti-education Roma traditions.
There’s also a welcome element of cultural tourism here. We get to watch a Romani betrothal ritual, a Romani evangelical church service and an all-female flamenco party.
Carmen y Lola is the directorial debut of Arantxa Echevarria. It’s one of the successful first features showcased in this year’s Frameline film festival.
MAKING MONTGOMERY CLIFT, directed by Robert Anderson Clift and Hilary Demmon
Frameline, the San Francisco International LGBTQ+ Film Festival, is underway and offers a rich selection of documentaries.
Frameline’s closing night film, the emotionally powerful documentary, Gay Chorus Deep South. It tracks the San Francisco Gay Men’s Chorus concert tour through the Deep South in the aftermath of the Trump election. This will be an audience-pleaser; bring hankies.
The best doc in the fest may be Making Montgomery Clift, from directors Robert Anderson Clift and Hilary Demmon. It’s an unexpectedly insightful and nuanced probe into the life of Clift’s uncle, the movie star Montgomery Clift.
Anybody who attends Frameline (or SFFILM or Noir City, for that matter) knows the Twin Peaks bar at the corner of Castro and Market. Through the Windows tells the story of the first San Francisco gay bar set up to let patrons and passers-by observe each other directly.
The documentary short that plays before Through the Windows, Dressing Up Like Mrs. Doubtfire, explores the history of cross-dressing in the movies and the impact of the Robin Williams performance in Mrs. Doubtfire. There are several intriguing threads in this short, which could be expanded into a future doc feature.
In the appealing Canadian transgender dramedy Venus, Sid (Debargo Sanyal) is at a personal crossroads. Single after things didn’t work out with his closeted boyfriend Daniel (Pierre-Yves Cardinal), Sid has just begun to dress like a woman in public and to take hormones for his transition. Then, he is shocked to learn that he has a 14-year-old son Ralph (Jamie Myers). The boy thinks that having a transgender dad with Indian heritage is very cool and, unbeknownst to his mom, starts spending more and more time with Sid. Sid has to deal with this, along with the reactions of his more traditional Indian parents and a chance meeting with Daniel.
In her first narrative feature, writer-director Eisha Marjara has crafted a funny, touching and genuine story. Venus is successful largely because of Debargo Sanyal’s performance. Eschewing flamboyance, Sanyal’s Sid is a man driven to keep his dignity in the most inescapably awkward situations. It helps that Sanyal is a master of the comic take; Sid’s reactions to his mother’s and Ralph’s intrusiveness are very funny.
I predicted that Venus, at its US premiere at Cinequest, would become one of the most popular indies at the festival; indeed, it won the Cinequest award for best narrative feature. Venus is available for streaming from Amazon and iTunes.
