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[Review] ‘A Moment In The Reeds’ Is A Lush, Evocative Romance

December 4, 2018 by Joe Lipsett

Janne Puustinen, Boodi Kabbani

It appears that at least once a year, LGBTQ-hungry audiences are being gifted with a quiet, introspective gay love story that delivers both the romance, the passion and the geography porn. It truly is a marvelous time to be alive.

Following in the footsteps of Brokeback Mountain, Call Me By Your Name and – most closely – God’s Own Country, writer / director Mikko Makela’s debut feature film is the latest entry in a recent trend of gay art cinema films that chronicles a forbidden romantic relationship between two men from different backgrounds.

In this case, it’s Finnish graduate student Leevi (Janne Puustinen) – back home for a long weekend from his studies in Paris, France to help his father, Jouko (Mika Melender), fix up the family’s lakeside cottage for sale – and Syrian refugee, Tareq (Boodi Kabbani) who is brought on as a handy man. Almost immediately the men are forced together because Tareq does not speak Finnish and Jouko’s command of English doesn’t extend beyond polite chit-chat, meaning that Leevi must act as translator. He’s also required to be the mediator, explaining Tareq’s frustration to his father because the refugee is unable to procure better work despite his expertise as an Architect; Leevi is also negotiating his father’s volatile xenophobia, which adds an additional layer of complication to their already strained familial relationship.

The tension eases up when Jouko is called away overnight on business and the pair of younger men are left getting to know each other. Makela wisely takes his time developing their relationship: for the better part of their dockside chat, their discussion in the sauna, their romp in the lake and finally their nighttime drinking on the porch, the topics are shallow and general. In fact there’s barely any sense of a romantic connection; these are guarded men circling the wagons. Still, a few lingering glances from one when the other isn’t looking serves to build anticipation and by the time the pair finally lock eyes in a knowing fashion at night’s end, both the characters and the audience are ready to put an end to the slow burn and get down to action.

Makela expertly employs a handheld style, as well as tight framing and slightly disjointed editing to convey the impassioned intimacy of their first sexual encounter. Leevi and Tareq’s coupling has a hungry, desperate vibe; the scene teeters somewhere between graphic and carnal and Makela’s script allows it to play out longer than usual before cutting to the next morning. From this point on the connection between the men shifts and their interactions, both verbal and physical, are more charged, sexualized and meaningful. Conversation about the weather is replaced by startlingly frank revelations about Tareq’s double life in Syria and his flight to Finland, as well as Leevi’s memories of his deceased painter mother and his uncertainty about love following a prior relationship back in Paris.

Janne Puustinen, Boodi Kabbani

A Moment In The Reeds spells out its central conflict in its title: this is a film that traffics in a fleeting fantasy. The reintroduction of Jouko and the realities of the external world quickly threaten to upend the romantic connection between the new lovers. In this way, comparisons to God’s Own Country are certainly apt and unavoidable, particularly the gorgeous, empty countryside playing host to forbidden desire and brooding spectacle.

The natural beauty is amplified by Makela’s exquisite direction and the naturalistic performances by the two leads. Puustinen and Kabbani wisely underplay their attraction until the men act on their desires, at which point their sexual chemistry and affection comes on strong. Although I’m not in favour of a requirement to hire LGBTQ actors to play queer characters, the ease with which the two men interact, particularly in the sex scenes, belies a comfort by the real life gay actors that is absent in other projects.

The film is not without criticism. Despite all of the groundwork laid in advance, the ending of the film feels sudden and abrupt, which won’t satisfy fans of the film’s otherwise languid pace. Narrative-focused audiences, meanwhile, may find that their attention drifts: this is a simple, straightforward story about a brief, fleeting encounter between two men. At one point Tarek mentions “a fantasy experience” and that’s what the film is for the majority of its runtime, for better or for worse.

Still, the political and social framework of the two men’s backstories is relatable and/or extremely topical. Leevi’s story is familial: he’s working through a communication rift between him and his estranged father and other unresolved issues in the wake of his mother’s passing. Tarek’s story is more global: he’s an immigrant recovering from the experience of being closeted in a country that’s hostile to the LGBTQ community at the same time as he struggles to establish a new life in a place where he doesn’t speak the language and can’t practice his own profession.

Both Leevi and Tareq are hungry – nay starving – for intimacy and someone who will listen to them (sexually, romantically, and emotionally). Considering how memorable and impassioned Mikko Makela’s film is, audiences may find themselves devouring A Moment In The Reeds with similar enthusiasm. It’s a strong contender for queer film of the year.

4/5

Filed Under: Queer, Queer Film Reviews Tagged With: Boodi Kabbani, Janne Puustinen, LGBT, LGBTQ, Mikko Makela

[Rant] Where Are All Of The Queer Female-Identifying Horror Directors?

November 27, 2018 by Bitch Stole My Remote

Kimberly Peirce and Stewart Thorndike

At a recent panel on queer horror last month, I was struck by a comment from co-panelists Katie Connell and Joshua Dare about the current state of queer female-identifying horror directors. The discussion began with a definition and brief historical overview of queer horror, then shifted into a survey of the current state of representation. Concerns about the tendency to spotlight films featuring gay men at the expense of their lesbian counterparts gave way to a cautiously optimistic listing of recent films featuring out and proud women. As we rattled off a number of films, however, we discovered a strange pattern: nearly all of these films were directed by straight white men.

Let’s backtrack a little to consider the current state of queer horror, which has notably made a number of gains and increased prominence in the last twenty years. A recent guide created by Vulture entitled “55 Essential Queer Horror Films” identified key shifts in the 21st century that reduced the stigma around queer characters, thereby enabling them to move from marginal to central, sometimes even lead, roles. In the 2000s, films such as Hellbent, High Tension and Seed of Chucky offered visible, albeit problematic, depictions of gay men, lesbians and trans characters.

With the advent of gay marriage in the 2010s, queer figures in horror have become even more normalized, nuanced and fleshed out. The result has been some of the most intriguing texts to date, the vast majority of which are about queer females. Films such as Jennifer’s Body (Kusama, 2009), All Cheerleaders Die (McKee, 2013), The Neon Demon (Winding Refn, 2016), Thelma (Trier, 2017), What Keeps You Alive (Minihan, 2018) and Blue My Mind (Bruehlmann, 2018) all feature complicated and fascinating lesbian characters.

Bruehlmann’s Blue My Mind

A cursory glance, however, reveals that all but two of those films were directed by straight white men – a number that is worth pausing over. While there is obviously nothing that restricts one group from telling the stories of another, the lack of female directors is note-worthy, particularly given the problematic historical depiction of lesbians as a source of titillation for the male gaze.

This disjunction is not severe when compared to publicly “out” gay male directors, who have become increasingly prominent in recent years. Renowned master of horror Don Mancini has kept Chucky and the Child’s Play franchise alive and sexually subversive for 30 years. Up and coming directors Chris Peckover (Better Watch Out) and David Freyne (The Cured) have both delivered horror films that play with notions of masculinity and lends themselves to queer takes. And recent Oscar winner Luca Guadagino’s Suspiria, featuring a nearly all-female cast, is filled with sexual connotations and feminist readings.

Stewart Thorndike’s Lyle

The simple fact is that representation and visibility matters. Even in horror fandom, there remains a frustrating need to explain why female characters and creators matters, although the recent uptick in feminist horror criticism that began with AxWound and Women in Horror Month and continues now with publications and sites such as Grim Magazine, Anatomy of a Scream, Suspiria Magazine, Graveyard Shift Sisters and Diabolique Magazine bodes well for the future.

Let’s return to the question at the heart of this debate: where are all of the queer female-identifying directors? Despite the disheartening statistics about the ratio of female to male directors (and in spite of Jason Blum’s hastily corrected statement about the lack of women interested in directing horror), the horror genre is flush with talented women. “Out” female queers, however? Not so much.

A deep dive online (and help from HorrorTwitter) revealed only two feature filmmakers: Kimberly Peirce, who directed the 2013 remake of Carrie, and Stewart Thorndike, who directed indie micro-budget “lesbian Rosemary’s Baby” film Lyle (2014). Singer St Vincent (nee Anne Erin Clark) directed one of the segments of the all-female horror anthology, XX (2017), though she seems unlikely to return to the director’s chair in the near future. There are undoubtedly a number of other up and coming talents working in horror shorts, including Monika Estrella Negra, who is currently crowdsourcing the funding for her first feature, Two Sisters.

Despite advances in queer visibility both on and offscreen, there remains a gap in the horror genre. It is possible that filmmakers prefer to leave their mark on the screen rather than publicly disclose details about their personal lives, but the fact that there are so many heterosexual white men telling stories about lesbian characters in horror films is a potentially problematic trend. On the cusp of what Vice is calling “the rebirth of lesbian horror movies”, let’s hope that a number of proud, “out” queer female-identifying directors emerge from the shadows to ensure their onscreen proxies bear an authentic touch.

Filed Under: Horror, Queer Tagged With: Kimberly Peirce, lesbian director, LGBT, LGBTQ, Monika Estrella Negra, Queer Horror, Stewart Thorndike

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The 411 on me

I am a freelance film and television journalist based in Toronto, Canada.

Words:
> Bloody Disgusting
> /Film
> Consequence
> The Spool
> Anatomy of a Scream
> Grim Journal
> That Shelf

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> Horror Queers
> Hazel & Katniss & Harry & Starr

Recent Posts

  • ‘Materialists’ Interrogates The Cost of Love [Review]
  • Serial Killer Meets Sharks in Sean Byrne’s ‘Dangerous Animals’ [Review]
  • 4K Review: ‘What Lies Beneath’ (2000)

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