BY: DONNY SHELDON
Next to terrorism, swine flu and our economic recession, nothing terrifies the average American more than some dude-on-dude action. Next week, two films — one, a big studio stint and the other, a low-budget indie — that cannon-balled into the shallow pool of gay film will be released on DVD.
Director Lynn Shelton’s “Humpday” chronicles the tumultuous reunion of college buds Ben and Andrew after a decade of sporadic contact. Ben has settled down in a quiet neighborhood in Seattle., with his wife Anna, while Andrew has maintained his bad-boy persona, gallivanting around the globe working on art projects. When the two reunite they revert back to their old macho competitions, which leads to a drunken pledge to shoot an amateur porn film together for a local erotic art festival. It’s vague as to whether either man has feelings for the other, but “Humpday” boldly posits the question that would make most heterosexual men squirm: is sex yet another competition men secretly yearn for in their friendships with other men?
“Humpday” doesn’t seek to answer this question, but slingshots it in the viewer’s face, daring you to consider all the questions that stem from whatever answer you come up with. The film’s most poignant moment arrives the night before the shoot when Ben tells Andrew about a sexual attraction he had to a video store clerk. The revelation is tender and awkward, leading Andrew to suspect Ben might have a little thing for dudes after all. These fleeting moments of tension break an inordinate amount of ground in the realm of contemporary buddy, bromantic comedy, for Shelton erects an atmosphere for straight men to discuss the deeply taboo topic of the gay crush.
When it came time to shoot the porn film in a sterile, humdrum hotel room, it didn’t matter to me if Andrew and Ben honored the dare. It mattered, though, to a couple behind me, who left midway through the film with a disgruntled, “Well, if they’re not gonna do it, whatever!” I then realized why a lot of these people saw “Humpday” to begin with: to watch two straight dudes bone. To those looking for heterosexual men getting down, I suggest you search the Internet, because it does not happen here in “Humpday,” save for a klutzy kiss. The power of the film ironically resides in this resilience to showcasing graphic sex, which is almost an afterthought compared to the expansive homoerotic subtext at work. “Humpday” fearlessly opens a can of worms that society has sealed shut for decades. I wouldn’t say that the film answers or resolves anything, but it audaciously shoves them to the cinematic forefront for future films to tackle, including the controversial comedy “Brüno.”
I never thought that I’d label Sacha Baron Cohen, the English actor/comedian of “Borat” fame, a gay rights activist. Yet, after his latest laugh riot, “Brüno,” it’s difficult to do otherwise. I wouldn’t exactly put him on a pedestal anywhere near Harvey Milk, but in terms of cinematic trailblazers, his gusto is unparalleled. In the film, Baron Cohen stars as the titular character Brüno, a flamboyant Austrian fashionista who moves to America and ventures on a series of self-reinvention projects to tame his unabashed personality — his homosexuality, in particular. Each adventure, albeit hilarious, exposes the shoddy foundation of society’s artificial tolerance toward gays.
Baron Cohen reveals a disturbing vision that suggests a great discrepancy between how liberal Americans how describe themselves and which attitudes they actually exhibit. “Brüno” takes off where “Humpday” left off by turning the tension dial up to unimaginable extents, from being knighted “queer” by Ron Paul after a botched attempt at making a sex tape to trotting around a Westboro “God Hates Fags” Baptist Church picketing with his lover in BSDM garb — leash and all. The key to unlocking the social implications of the film is discovering what makes you uncomfortable; Brüno gives you plenty of options. Fisting? Anal bleaching? Google with caution, but pick your poison. Baron Cohen exploits the viewer’s anxieties regarding gay sex in such a scathingly provocative manner that I can’t consider him anything but courageous. During the film, I witnessed disgusted patrons exiting the theater, especially after a scene involving anal sex and champagne bottles. As I watched these visibly uncomfortable people flee the theater, I wondered if they would’ve left equally raunchy — yet straight — cinematic fare like “Zach and Miri Make a Porno” or “The Hangover.” I’d wager they wouldn’t.
Through unapologetically vulgar means, Baron Cohen unearths mainstream audiences’ fears of gay culture and questions just how tolerant you are. You may not like what Baron Cohen’s madhouse mirror reflects, but that’s not his problem. It’s yours.
You can reach this columnist at thescene@theeagleonline.com.
