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Thanks to Ryan Murphy, Netflix throws an inclusive ‘Prom’

A queer story with mainstream pop appeal

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The Prom, gay news, Washington Blade
The cast of ‘The Prom.’ (Photo courtesy Netflix)

According to Ryan Murphy, he wanted to make a film version of “The Prom” since the moment he saw it on Broadway.

Watching the new Netflix movie that resulted from that spark of inspiration, it’s not hard to see why. The musical, which found a hardcore fan audience despite a less-than-profitable Broadway run, is a piece that is a perfect match for the entertainment mogul’s brand, a frothy mix that exists on the thin line between camp and hokum, blending sharp-edged wit with inspirational sentiment and over-the-top farce with activism. It’s a queer story with mainstream pop appeal that leans heavily into a love of All Things Broadway. Unless there was also a serial killer thrown in somewhere, how could anything be more Ryan Murphy than that?

There was more behind Murphy’s enthusiasm for the piece than just a savvy selection of tailor-made grist for the entertainment mill that is his contract with Netflix, however. As an LGBTQ person who grew up in a small Indiana town himself, the show-biz powerhouse found a personal connection to its story of an Indiana teen who has to fight against the homophobia of her small town community in order to take her girlfriend to their high school prom. It spoke to his own memories and hopes – and as it turns out, that heart connection is the ingredient that makes his translated-to-film version of “The Prom” much better than it probably deserves to be.

Inspired by the real-life experience of Mississippi high schooler Constance McMillen, the story centers on Emma Nolan (Jo Ellen Pellman), an out lesbian senior whose plan to take her secret girlfriend Alyssa (Ariana DeBose) to the prom is thwarted by her school’s PTA-mandated no-same-sex-date policy. Her cause is taken up by a group of down-on-their-luck Broadway actors — including a famous but fading diva (Meryl Streep) and her GBF (James Corden) — whose co-starring turn in a musical based on the life of Eleanor Roosevelt has just closed after only a single performance. They hit upon the scheme of creating an activist cause around her in order to garner some career-boosting publicity.

Along with Emma’s supportive principal (Keegan-Michael Key), they succeed in forcing the school to hold an inclusive prom; but when the PTA president (Kerry Washington) uses a loophole to shut Emma out anyway, the cadre of showfolk will have to dive deeper than their own self-centered motivations if they are going to be able to make things right again and score a decisive win against homophobia in the heart of small-town America.

As written by Bob Martin and Chad Beguelin (with the latter providing lyrics to music by Matthew Sklar), the musical is unabashedly designed to be a crowd-pleaser, full of comedy and heart, with just enough drama to make it mean something and a message only a bigot could refute; the score, spiced up with youthful flourishes but nevertheless grounded in a stylistic base that is pure traditional Broadway, is exuberant and infectious, and allows plenty of opportunity for the kind of show-stopping dance numbers that make an evening of live musical theater an experience quite unlike any other.

Presumably out of a desire to maintain the integrity of the show’s original voice, producer-director Murphy enlisted the trio of original writers to adapt their work to the screen; the result is an expanded but mostly faithful reimagining that maintains the bones of its stage-bound architecture while also deepening some of its more sensitive moments with the kind of embellishment made possible by cinematic technique and a no-expense-spared budget.

That budget is also behind the film’s other biggest asset, a stellar dream cast headed by Streep and Corden, with Nicole Kidman and Andrew Rannells in close support – all in addition to the other talented stars mentioned above. It’s clear this high-profile ensemble is having a blast in their roles; Streep is in fine form, as always, and Corden is capable of charming us in anything (even, almost, the horror that was “Cats”), but everyone else performs at an equally high level; special mention should go to Kidman, though, for managing to take on the role of an aging chorus girl and making us believe that she’s been dancing in the background for 20 years without ever getting noticed – as if she weren’t, well, a superstar like Nicole Kidman.

These players are gifted enough to take the broadest, corniest, most cliched bits of the script – which, in truth, amounts to most of it, by design – and giving it not just the extra dimension it needs to be more than a goofy pastiche, but the enthusiasm and all-around show-biz moxie that keeps an audience engaged and entertained even when the story lags.

And it does lag, there is no denying it. As any aficionado of musical theater will surely tell you, all but the most remarkable of shows suffer from what’s often called the “second-act slump,” and “The Prom” is no exception. Indeed, it’s exacerbated here by the script’s reliance on the tried-and-true “beats” that have formed the core of the genre’s dramatic structure since the days when musicals made the transition from the era of Ziegfeld’s Follies to the age of “Oklahoma.” Onstage, this slavish adherence to traditional format is surely part of the show’s charm, another function of its lovingly self-mocking tone. But on film, without the in-person visceral excitement that comes from seeing those aforementioned dance numbers exploding before your eyes, it can be an obstacle to keeping the interest of audiences used to more sophisticated fare.

Thankfully, the film rendition of “The Prom” never lets its slow spots hold it back for long. Murphy the director relies on the strengths of his cast while filling the screen with the kind of artfully kitschy, colorful visual spectacle that makes even his pulpiest endeavors a feast for the eyes; and while his quick-edit cinematic style fails to capture the majesty of its dance sequences (choreographed with vigor and an aptly satirical touch by Casey Nicholaw) in the same way as the long takes of the classic Hollywood musicals that so clearly inform his palette here, the flash and movement with which he instills every moment of them is more than enough to keep us appropriately dazzled by them.

More importantly, though, he makes “The Prom” a success despite its flaws because of that heart connection that led him to make it in the first place; in the midst of all the larger-than-life “zazz” (to borrow a phrase from the film), he never lets us forget the importance of the human story underneath it, and the powerful message of acceptance that was intended to be the show’s reason all along.

It has to be acknowledged that Murphy’s track record is somewhat hit-or-miss for all but his most ardent fans, and that “The Prom” is the kind of bubbly, lightweight musical theater that you’re probably not going to like if you’re not a fan of that kind of material.

For everybody else though, it’s worth putting at the top of your Netflix queue when the streaming platform drops it on Dec. 11.

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Neo-noir ‘Femme’ offers sexy, intense revenge fantasy

A work of real and thrilling cinematic vision

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George MacKay and Nathan Stewart-Jarrett star in ‘Femme.’ (Photo courtesy of Utopia)

They say “revenge is sweet,” and it must be true. Why else would so many of our popular stories, dating all the way back to “Medea” and beyond, be focused on the idea of getting “even” with the people who have done us wrong?

It’s a concept with obvious appeal for anyone who has felt unjustly used by the world – or, more accurately, by the people in it – but that has particular resonance, perhaps, for modern queer audiences, long used to being relegated to the status of “victim” in the narratives we see on our screens. In “Femme” — the new UK indie thriller helmed by first-time feature directors Sam H. Freeman and Ng Choon Ping, now in limited theatrical release and expanding wider over the next two weeks — it provides the irresistible hook for a gripping tale of calculated vengeance in the face of anti-queer violence. Like the best of such stories, however, it’s as much a cautionary tale as it is a wish-fulfillment fantasy.

Set in London, it centers on Jules (Nathan Stewart-Jarrett), aka Aphrodite Banks, a popular drag performer in the city’s queer club scene who, after a performance one night, steps out in full costume to buy a pack of cigarettes and becomes the victim of a traumatic “gay bashing” incident at the hands of a young man goaded to violence by a thuggish gang of friends. Months later, though he’s recovered from his physical injuries, he is still deeply affected by the inner scars that linger. Robbed of the confidence that allowed him to perform, he’s withdrawn into a reclusive life, until concern from his friends and housemates prompts him to finally venture out into the world for a night of cruising at a gay sauna – where he encounters his bully doing the same thing. 

Unrecognizable and anonymously masculine out of his drag persona, Jules finds himself beginning a dangerous and duplicitous game in which he plans to “out” his former attacker – whose name, as he learns, is Preston (George MacKay) – in the most humiliating way possible. As his scheme begins to play out, however, he encounters an obstacle: in getting to know the closeted Preston, he is surprised to discover not only empathy for someone living their life in terrified camouflage, but a mutual attraction that develops despite the horrific history between them.

Framed as a self-described “neo-noir” story, a designation that implies a certain flavor of moral ambiguity as much as it does a tense and shadowy tale of intrigue or a psychologically complex tone, it’s a movie that relies heavily on style in order to sell its conceptual premise. Realistically, we might question the boldness that permits our protagonist to enact such a potentially hazardous scheme, but in the context of its genre trappings we are lulled into accepting it. And while most of us are likely “jaded” enough to question the possibility of tenderness between its two leading characters, the accepted conceits of the film noir form are enough to sell it to us – or at least allow us to grapple with it alongside Jules, whose righteously Machiavellian master plan is threatened by the feelings he “catches” in spite of himself.

That, of course, is part of the whole point. “Femme,” though it establishes itself by virtue of its very title as a testament to the struggle to “pass” for straight in a world that places a value judgment on perceived adherence to a strict norm for gender and sexuality, hinges on the idea that such things aren’t quite as clear-cut as we want to make them. Despite the black-and-white certainty we cling to when it comes to the subject of abusive or toxic relationships, there’s an emotional component that can only be ignored or dismissed at our peril, and even our most resolute intentions can be undermined by the shades of gray we discover in our hearts. 

Freeman and Ng – who also wrote the screenplay, adapting their own BAFTA-nominated short film from 2021 (starring Harris Dickinson and Paapa Essiedu) into a feature-length expansion – seem bent on challenging our snap judgments, on forcing us to sympathize with our oppressors by showing us the ways in which they, too, are prevented from living a fully authentic life by the expectations of their cultural environment. Even more challenging for many modern audiences, perhaps, may be the unavoidable observation that, in enacting his plan of revenge, Jules crosses the line between being a victim and being a victimizer – a fine point that may trigger uncomfortable implications in a social environment that has become marked by divisive moral constructs and hardline ethical posturing.

Before we scare you off with discussion of high-concept themes and “culture war” rhetoric, however, it’s crucial to bring up the elements that lift “Femme” above and beyond the level of so many such narrative films and makes it a somewhat unexpectedly potent piece of cinematic storytelling – and all of them have to do with the skill and intention behind it.

As to the former, the movie’s first-time directors manage a remarkable debut, steeping their film in moody, genre-appropriate visuals and murky morality. They pave a path beyond the easy assessments proscribed for us by conventional thinking, and force us to follow our sympathies into a disquieting confrontation between what we “know” as right and what we feel as true; at the same time, they push back against any natural sentimentality we might have about the situation, stressing the toxicity of the relationship in the middle of their film, the ironically-reversed insincerity of its dynamic – and, perhaps most importantly, the reality of the defining circumstances around it. While we might find ourselves longing for a happier resolution than the one we expect, the film makes no pretense that these two men might overcome the deep denial and traumatic associations – not to mention the calculated lack of honesty on the side of its de facto protagonist, to achieve some kind of “happy ending” between themselves. Nevertheless, we hope for it, in spite of ourselves.

That delicate dynamic works largely because of the movie’s lead actors. Both Stewart-Jarrett (“Candyman”) and MacKay (“Pride”, “1917”) deliver fully invested, utterly relatable performances, finding the emotional truth behind their interactions with as much palpable authenticity as they bring to the chemistry between them. They force us to abandon our preconceived ideas about each character by finding the human presence behind them, and it makes the story’s final outcome feel as heartbreaking as it does inevitable.

As for intention, “Femme” – which premiered at last year’s Berlin International Film Festival and went on to gather acclaim across the international film fest circuit – might be a little hard to take for the easily triggered, we won’t deny it. Still, it’s a work of real and thrilling cinematic vision that goes beyond easy morality to highlight the tragedy that comes from being forced to live behind a mask for the sake of societal acceptance. It’s also exciting, smart, and unexpectedly sexy – all of which make it a highly- recommended addition to your watchlist.

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Tommy Dorfman makes directorial debut in ‘I Wish You All the Best’

Film premiered at SXSW

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(Courtesy photo)

Editor’s note: Jack Morningstar attended SXSW.

Based on Mason Deaver’s novel, “I Wish You All the Best” follows Ben DeBacker (Corey Fogelmanis), a nonbinary teen who is thrown out of their house and forced to move in with their estranged older sister and her husband.

The film premiered at SXSW last week and stars Corey Fogelmanis, Miles Gutierrez-Riley, Alexandra Daddario and Cole Sprouse, Lena Dunham and was produced by Matt Kaplan and Tommy Dorfman. In addition to directing and producing, Dorfman also adapted the screenplay. 

“I had never read a book that centered on an experience that mirrored mine so vividly — just being a queer kid from the South — so I immediately was interested in adapting it and was putting myself up for that,” she said.

The heartwarming film brings awareness to the plight of LGBTQ kids who grow up in conservative families and communities, while also emphasizing that, as Dorfman noted, “safety can be found in many places.” In this case, the main protagonist, Ben, finds refuge in their friendship with Nathan. Fogelmanis, who plays Ben, explains that “together they have so many first-time experiences. Learning to let your walls down with someone that is a stranger, or that you don’t have a biological bond with is really scary. And then just to see all the stuff that comes up and have that person still accept you is just the greatest thing for Ben.”

Fogelmanis and Gutierrez-Riley were obvious choices for the roles of Ben and Nathan.

“It was really clear to me from a filmmaker perspective. There were a couple of people for each role that I was interested in and enjoyed working with, but Fogelmanis, from that first tape to the last chemistry read made it so clear who Ben was, who Ben is, and who Ben could be. Miles, who plays Nathan, is so amazing as well,” Fogelmanis added. “It was really effortless in a way. Reading Tommy’s words was super easy to find my way into.”

Dorfman found it particularly easy to work with Gutierrez-Riley as well since they attended the same acting program at Fordham University. 

“I remember when I was working with Miles in the audition process, I was like, oh, I know how to talk to you. That’s huge. It helped me as a first-time director,” she said.

Dorfman wanted to be careful “not fall into the trap of dramatizing Ben’s gender or coming out too much. It is important to remember that viewing people solely through the lens of their gender or sexuality diminishes their vast and complex humanity. For instance, my life extends beyond my trans identity. I’m an artist, a wife, a mother to two dogs, a sister to four siblings, an avid reader of classic literature, 10 years sober, have ADHD, enjoy arranging flowers and charming tableware, to name a few things.”

“Similarly, my film’s protagonist, Ben, doesn’t have an identity exclusive to being a queer teenager. Although their coming out experience is crucial and worth exploring, an obvious jumping-off point in my film, it’s what happens after they’re able to open up that inspired me to make ‘I Wish You All The Best,’ Dorfman added. “My film examines the discomfort of being seventeen, falling in love with a classmate, forming friendships, finding a voice through painting and self-expression, learning to love and be loved, navigating anxiety and depression, and coping with the pressures of growing up. These are universal and very human experiences that shape Ben beyond the limits of representation or perception.” 

Dorfman describes being one of the few openly transgender directors as “an honor and a disappointment.” She added, “I wish there were more of us, but there will be. It’s exciting, though, to be part of this next generation of creators and filmmakers entering this space and telling more human experiences.”

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Nick Kroll and Andrew Rannells want to adopt baby in ‘I Don’t Understand You’

Film premiered at SXSW in Austin

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(Courtesy photo)

Editor’s note: Jack Morningstar attended SXSW in Austin, Texas.

“I Don’t Understand You” focuses on a couple whose romantic Italian getaway devolves into bloody chaos while they prepare to adopt their first child. 

The film, while veering into hilariously gruesome hijinks, tells the story of a gay couple who is willing to kill for a chance at fatherhood. It sheds light on the hurdles that same-sex couples often go through in the adoption process: Financial burdens, time constraints, fraud, and in this case, a rural Italian family.

The film premiered last weekend at SXSW in Austin and stars Nick Kroll and Andrew Rannells along with Nunzia Schiano, Morgan Spector and Eleonora Romandini. It was written and directed by Brian Crano and David Craig, who are married. They sourced inspiration from their own adoption struggles and an Italian vacay gone wrong. 

“We were about to leave for Italy when we found out that we had matched with a birth mother and our son would be born in about six weeks,” said Crano. 

According to Craig, the trip was tense and it culminated in their car getting stuck in a ditch on their way to an anniversary dinner.

“We ended up at an old lady’s house after she rescued us in her Fiat. Her family cooked us a meal and we stayed up drinking with them until 3 a.m., not understanding a word they were saying,” he said.

Without spoiling anything, the couple in the movie go to absurd lengths to ensure that their adoption goes through. Craig explained that the theme of the movie was “what would you do for your kid.” 

“We were three years into our own journey at the time and realized we would literally do anything to make that dream a reality. It’s really a love letter to our son,” he said.

The film is hard to relegate to a single genre. 

“When conceiving the story, we saw it as different parts — romantic comedy, horror movie, murder play — but I think by bringing in Nick and Andrew that blend actually became much more of an organic mix where the comedy sustained throughout. They elevated it in a more elegant fashion,” said Craig. 

“I Don’t Understand You”was produced by Pinky Promise, a women-led production company with the mission to elevate diverse voices in their storytelling. Kara Durrett, Pinky Promise’s current president was a champion of this script from the beginning. Founder Jessamine Burgum recounts that when Durrett was onboarding, she said “If you don’t get [“I Don’t Understand You”] I don’t know if this is going to work.” 

It ultimately became one of the first projects Burgum and Durrett collaborated on. 

Kroll and Rannells’ chemistry carried the film. 

“There was a desire to work with each of them because they had both separately been in such amazing comedian teams — like Andrew with Josh Gad and Nick with John Mulaney. Nick and Andrew’s characters are in almost every scene of the movie together, so they needed to be adept to basically doing a shared performance. There was no one more well-positioned to do this as naturally as possible,” said Crano. 

Their characters are easy to root for, yet also deeply flawed. 

“A big thing we wanted to do with this movie, and with all of our work in telling stories, is avoid telling a cliched gay trauma film. We’ve never ascribed to the idea that there is a subcategory to film that is LGBTQ, rather — movies are for everyone. We want to make a movie where gay characters are flawed, not for being gay, but because of who they are. They can be villains, but they are our protagonists,” said Craig. 

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