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I will survive

New documentary uses archival video footage to explore early days of AIDS

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Peter Staley, How to Survive a Plague
Peter Staley, How to Survive a Plague

Peter Staley in a scene from ‘How to Survive a Plague.’ (photo by William Lucas Walker courtesy Sundance Selects)

As a journalist, openly gay writer David France is pretty fearless. The award-winning author has tackled such topics as the AIDS crisis, sexual abuse in the Catholic Church, the coming-out of former New Jersey governor James McGreevey and the brutal murder of Private Barry Winchell.

But, when he was poised to make the leap to documentary filmmaker, there was one thing that terrified him ā€” the soundtrack.

ā€œThat aspect of film-making was nerve-wracking,ā€ he says. ā€œI couldnā€™t sleep. I write in total silence. I donā€™t play any music at all. Print journalists donā€™t have to deal with music. There has never been any musical accompaniment to anything I have done before.ā€

Luckily, he found great partners to help him develop the soundtrack of his first film, the documentary ā€œHow to Survive a Plague,ā€ which chronicles the early years of AIDS activism. He turned to the Red Hot Organization, a non-profit musical production company that raises money to support the fight against HIV/AIDS. They suggested he listen the work of Arthur Russell, an avant garde gay songwriter and performer who was living in downtown Manhattan during the time frame covered by the film who died of AIDS-related causes in 1992.

France says that the suggestion was ā€œan inspired proposal.ā€ Paul Heck, executive director at Red Hot, describes Russellā€™s work as ā€œcaptivating, personal and profoundly beautiful music that is accessible yet complex all at once.ā€ Heck introduced France to composers Stuart Bogie and Luke Oā€™Malley who began work on the score based on Russellā€™s music. At first, the collaboration was a challenge for France, who says, ā€œI didnā€™t have the words to talk about the music.ā€ Luckily, he learned to trust his instincts.

ā€œI just started talking about how it felt, and thatā€™s how we worked out the score.ā€

The narrative and visual aspects of documentary filmmaking came more easily to the novice director.

ā€œIā€™ve always been a long-form journalist, so Iā€™ve always been a storyteller. I decided to undertake a major project and look at the early days of AIDS activism, to try and make sense of what happened. What more could time tell us about those early days?ā€

He knew the New York Public Library had an extensive collection of amateur and professional movies made by AIDS activists during that period, so he dove in.

ā€œI immediately jumped to the footage. I got captivated by how immediate and intensely personal and up-close it was. It reminded me how we felt in those early days.ā€

In the end, France and his team assembled several hundred hours of footage and began editing the material into a feature-length documentary. Aside from a few filmed interviews, this remarkable and powerful film consists entirely of this archival material, primary historical documentation captured by a then-emerging technology: the video camera.

ā€œHow to Survive A Plagueā€ uses this riveting archival material, largely shot by the activists themselves at meetings and protests around the country, to tell the story of ACT-UP (the AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power) and TAG (the Treatment Action Group). As Franco points out, these direct-action groups saved millions of lives by battling hatred, ignorance, complacency and apathy in the face of the emerging plague.

Ultimately they changed the way health care is delivered in this country. By demanding attention, they achieved incredible things.

ā€œThe biggest thing is why not ask for the moon? Why not ask for it all? Thatā€™s what they did. There was not a single pill and they demanded a cure. Science was not even thinking like that. As total outsiders to that process, they were able to develop an agenda that everyone felt was out of reach and they were able to get close. We donā€™t have a cure yet, but weā€™re much closer than we would have been.ā€

France feels this kind of broad vision is missing from the LGBT movement today.

ā€œWeā€™ve overly narrowed our agenda for the community. Now itā€™s marriage. There is so much more we could be advocating for more, including a push to combat HIV. There are still high transmission rates for men who have sex with men and the national LGBT groups are not paying attention to that.ā€

ā€œHow to Survive A Plagueā€ opens Oct. 12 at Landmark Theatres in the D.C. area.

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Photos

PHOTOS: Walk to End HIV

Whitman-Walker holds annual event in Anacostia Park

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The 2024 Walk to End HIV is held in Anacostia Park on Saturday, Dec. 7. (Washington Blade photo by Michael Key)

Whitman-Walker Health held the 38th annual Walk and 5K to End HIV at Anacostia Park on Saturday,Ā Dec. 7. Hundreds participated in the charity fundraiser,Ā despite temperatures below freezing. According to organizers, nearly $450,000 was raised for HIV/AIDS treatment and research.

(Washington Blade photos by Michael Key)

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Photos

PHOTOS: The Holiday Show

The Gay Men’s Chorus of Washington performs at Lincoln Theatre

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The Gay Men's Chorus of Washington perform 'The Holiday Show' at Lincoln Theatre. (Washington Blade photo by Michael Key)

The Gay Men’s Chorus of Washington performed “The Holiday Show” at Lincoln Theatre on Saturday. Future performances of the show are scheduled for Dec. 14-15. For tickets and showtimes, visit gmcw.org.

(Washington Blade photos by Michael Key)

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Books

Mother wages fight for trans daughter in new book

ā€˜Beautiful Womanā€™ seethes with resentment, rattles bars of injustice

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(Book cover image courtesy of Knopf)

ā€˜One Day I’ll Grow Up and Be a Beautiful Womanā€™
By Abi Maxwell
c.2024, Knopf
$28/307 pages

“How many times have I told you that…?”

How many times have you heard that? Probably so often that, well, you stopped listening. From your mother, when you were very small. From your teachers in school. From your supervisor, significant other, or best friend. As in the new memoir “One Day I’ll Grow Up and Be a Beautiful Woman” by Abi Maxwell, it came from a daughter.

When she was pregnant, Abi Maxwell took long walks in the New Hampshire woods near her home, rubbing her belly and talking to her unborn baby. She was sure she was going to have a girl but when the sonogram technician said otherwise, that was OK. Maxwell and her husband would have a son.

But almost from birth, their child was angry, fierce, and unhappy. Just getting dressed each morning was a trial. Going outside was often impossible. Autism was a possible diagnosis but more importantly, Maxwell wasn’t listening, and she admits it with some shame.

Her child had been saying, in so many ways, that she was a girl.

Once Maxwell realized it and acted accordingly, her daughter changed almost overnight, from an angry child to a calm one ā€“ though she still, understandably, had outbursts from the bullying behavior of her peers and some adults at school. Nearly every day, Greta (her new name) said she was teased, called by her former name, and told that she was a boy.

Maxwell had fought for special education for Greta, once autism was confirmed. Now she fought for Greta’s rights at school, and sometimes within her own family. The ACLU got involved. State laws were broken. Maxwell reminded anyone who’d listen that the suicide rate for trans kids was frighteningly high. Few in her town seemed to care.

Throughout her life, Maxwell had been in many other states and lived in other cities. New Hampshire used to feel as comforting as a warm blanket but suddenly, she knew they had to get away from it. Her “town that would not protect us.”

When you hold “One Day I’ll Grow Up and Be a Beautiful Woman,” you’ve got more than a memoir in your hands. You’ve also got a white-hot story that seethes with anger and rightful resentment, that wails for a hurt child, and rattles the bars of injustice. And yet, it coos over love of place, but in a confused manner, as if these things don’t belong together.

Author Abi Maxwell is honest with readers, taking full responsibility for not listening to what her preschooler was saying-not-saying, and she lets you see her emotions and her worst points. In the midst of her community-wide fight, she reveals how the discrimination Greta endured affected Maxwell’s marriage and her health ā€“ all of which give a reader the sense that they’re not being sold a tall tale. Read this book, and outrage becomes familiar enough that it’s yours, too. Read “One Day I’ll Grow Up and Be a Beautiful Woman,” and share it. This is a book you’ll tell others about.

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