Movies
Trans teen comes out in Mexican doc ‘Things We Dare Not Do’
Slice-of-life chronicle nominated for two Ariel Awards
In today’s explosion of the documentary market, where every week brings a new assortment of intriguing entries so abundant it’s impossible to fit them all into your viewing schedule, there are more films about the lives and culture of LGBTQ+ people than ever before. This is clearly a good thing. But while so many of them are centered on our history and our heroes – on the big, the important, the culturally impactful, and the world-changing – it’s worth taking note when one comes along that brings a more microscopic focus to queer experience and reminds us that our community is made up of millions of individual beings – each of them with their own, unique story to tell.
One such film, seemingly so small and unassuming as to slip under the radar in a field of more titanic choices, is “Cosas Que No Hacemos (Things We Dare Not Do)”, which made its broadcast premiere on PBS’s “American Documentary/POV” Oct. 25 and is available to stream for free through Nov. 24.
The second feature film from Mexican director and cinematographer Bruno Santamaría, this brief (barely 75 minutes) but luminous slice-of-life chronicle might be small, but it has already proven its might. Nominated for two Ariel Awards by Mexico’s Academy of Cinematographic Arts, it is also the winner of the Gold Hugo Award for Best Documentary and the Gold Q-Hugo Award for Best LGBTQ+ Film at the Chicago International Film Festival, and was chosen as an official selection at numerous others, including both the prestigious Hot Docs and DOC NYC film festivals. Touted as giving voice to “a powerful coming-of-age story,” its quietly hypnotic storytelling quickly draws you into such an intimate perspective on one queer person’s journey that it’s easy to see why it has earned such accolades.
“Things We Dare Not Do” takes us to a small Mexican coastal village called El Roblito, where 16-year-old Ñoño lives what seems to be an idyllic existence with his loving family. He spends his days playing with the free-spirited younger children of the town and staging elaborate community dance productions, but there is something inside of him, a secret he’s been holding, that can no longer be denied. Defying gender norms, Ñoño bravely works up the courage to tell his family they wants to live their life as a woman – a decision that comes with potentially dangerous consequences in a country shrouded in machismo and transphobia.
The coming out of a young trans person is clearly a timely and important subject to be documented on film, but under Santamaría’s lyrical guidance that process is part of a bigger experience. Ñoño is part of a community, from which their life is inextricable, a single thread woven into the tapestry of a larger world. While they remain in the center of the film – often wordlessly, a presence made impactful to us by our knowledge of his still-undisclosed inner life – they are seen in the context of day-to-day life in El Roblito. It’s a place where family is central, where generational traditions are honored and perpetuated within the daily routine of the community, and where the rhythms and patterns of existence that have repeated for centuries and longer exert their pressure on every aspect of individual development.
It’s captured beautifully, with exquisite cinematography by the director himself that juxtaposes the serene beauty of rural Mexico against the strength, bravery and spirit of a young queer person working to reconcile his inner life with his identity in the community, and through the course of the film, right alongside their family and the rest of the village, Ñoño is both participant and witness for many important community events. Some of these are joyful, such as the film’s magical opening, featuring a visit from Santa Claus – borne over the town in an aerial vehicle held aloft by a giant rainbow parachute – who distributes candy to the delighted children below. Some are mundane, like a community movie night and the sound of informational civic announcements being broadcast via loudspeaker in the background, and some celebratory, such as a festive graduation party for the school children of the village. There are more ominous communal touchstones, too; a violent shooting which takes place at that very celebration has a palpable effect on the imaginations of the children for days afterward.
With this slow-paced but bustling environment as a backdrop, Ñoño’s journey unfolds furtively, in powerful yet breathlessly simple private moments shared only with Santamaría’s camera: a secretive trip to the beach to don drag for a few hastily snapped selfies, the late-night ritual of scrolling through a gender-bent social media feed at bedtime with the dim glow of his phone’s touchscreen providing the only light in the darkness of their life, their anxious but resolute on-camera declaration of their intention to come out as trans to their parents. These are small, quiet, undramatic events, but their cumulative effect pays off a hundredfold in the climactic sequence, where Ñoño finally works up the courage to ask for permission from their family – especially from his traditional, macho, hard-working, and often absent father – to begin living as a woman. There’s no shouting, no confrontations, no dramatic outbursts, but the intensity of emotion that comes in that scene is electrifying, nonetheless.
That it all comes together so unforgettably with what appears to be so little effort reflects the director’s own journey in making the film. Santamaría says of the process:
“It’s very moving to think that we are about to share the work that we started six years ago, to share the encounter we experienced. What began as a secret in my life led us to an idea, that idea led us to a journey, and the journey to an encounter. When I met Dayanara [the name by which Ñoño goes now] everything changed, the idea, the trip, the film and our lives. ‘Things We Dare Not Do’ is the result of this journey of dreams, accidents and experiences; a film that seeks to share the feeling of the coming-of-age experience of an adolescent who takes a brave step in her process of emancipation, in her process of growing up.”
In a time when trans rights – especially for young people – face persistent and venomous assault from phobic far right political factions who aim to negate the truth of trans experience, it’s invaluable to create space in which the truth of those experiences can be explored with nuance, authenticity, and empathy. By taking one young person’s struggle for queer identity out of the usual urban setting we’ve come to expect, Bruno Santamaría’s quietly monumental documentary provides a much-appreciated fresh perspective on the issue; more than that, it delivers a moving tale of emancipation that is sure to stick with you – and inspire you – long after the credits roll.
Movies
Unconventional 2024 holiday films mostly not for families
Erotica thrillers, ‘Nosferatu,’ and the explicit ‘Queer’ among entries
As soon as Thanksgiving is behind us, it’s time to look forward to another crop of holiday movies, and this year offers some excellent ones – though most of them seem to have very little to do with the season itself. Unfortunately, after the last year or so, when the number of queer-themed and queer-inclusive holiday films seemed to be increasing, this year’s selection is notably short on queer representation. Of course, with a couple of exceptions, they’re also notably short on seasonal cheer, too. Nevertheless, there are several promising gems headed to theaters over the next month, all of which should be of interest to any movie fan, queer or not, and the Blade is ready to break them down for you.
WICKED (Now in theaters) Our first preview also serves as a mini-review, since it jumped the holiday queue for an early release, but that’s OK, because it turns out we needed it more than we knew. The first installment of director John M. Chu’s much-anticipated two-part adaptation of the Broadway phenomenon, in turn based on the eponymous book by queer author Gregory Maguire’s book of the same name, stars Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande as the two iconic witches of Frank Baum’s classic “Wizard of Oz” (Elphaba, the formerly anonymous “Wicked Witch of the West” as named by Maguire in his novel, and Glinda, the “Good Witch of the North,” respectively), and, without hyperbole, truly surpasses all expectation. Expanding the stage version’s Disney-ish whimsy (reinforced by its catchy song score from “Pocahontas” composer Stephen Schwartz) by incorporating elements from Maguire’s novel to bring additional gravitas (and timely relevance) to the family-friendly fun while showcasing the amazing, no-expense-spared artistry of the film’s visual design. Played out on elaborate real-life sets by a uniformly superb cast – which also features out gay “Bridgerton” heartthrob Jonathan Bailey, Oscar-winner Michelle Yeoh, veteran screen eccentric Jeff Goldblum, “Game of Thrones” star Peter Dinklage, and queer “SNL” stalwart Bowen Yang, among many other talented performers – it is that rare stage-to-screen transition that not only captures the appeal of the show that inspired it, but enhances its magic by embracing a purely cinematic expression in doing so. Add the sweet irony that can be found in the post-election success of a musical fantasy about a marginalized woman being persecuted for daring to speak truth to an authoritarian power (who also happens to be an incompetent charlatan), and you have a film that is easily the movie of the year and then some. Something tells us that Baum would be proud of what his clever little satire of American “exceptionalism” has come to inspire more than a century later. If you haven’t seen it already, what are you waiting for? Get on your broom and head straight to the next available showing at your local multiplex.
GLADIATOR II (Now in theaters) Also crashing into the arena ahead of the holidays is Ridley Scott’s sequel to his Oscar-winning original “Gladiator” from 2000, which won Oscars for Best Picture and Best Actor (Russell Crowe) among multiple other honors. The queer appeal here lies mostly in the hunkiness of its stars – allies and queer-fan-favorite heartthrobs Paul Mescal and Pedro Pascal, who join Denzel Washington as the big-name-triumvirate that drives the film – but that doesn’t mean there’s not plenty of big-budget sword-and-sandal excitement to entertain anybody with an appetite for such things; and let’s face it, as cheesy as they are, who doesn’t love a movie about barely dressed muscle men swinging swords at each other in the midst of Roman depravity? Revered queer British thespian Derek Jacobi reprises his role from the original film, among a cast that also includes Joseph Quinn, Fred Hechinger, Lior Raz, and Connie Nielsen.
QUEER (now in limited theaters, wide release 12/13) From Italian filmmaker Luca Guadagnino – the man responsible for “Call Me By Your Name” and this year’s earlier bi-triangle tennis romance “Challengers” – comes this eagerly anticipated adaptation of a semi-autobiographical novella by queer “beat generation” icon William S. Burroughs, set in 1950, in which an American expatriate (Daniel Craig in a reportedly career-topping performance) trolls the local bars looking for connection and becomes enamored with a former soldier (Drew Starkey) who is new in town. Already controversial (in some circles, at least) for its explicitness and its unapologetically raw perspective – an unsurprising element, considering that Burroughs’s legendary status as an author and personality has more to do with his countercultural radicalism than his queerness – this one is probably the standout must-see title of the season for LGBTQ audiences, or at least those not completely transfixed by “Wicked.” And although Craig (who is no stranger to “playing gay”) has said in a recent interview that his character’s sexuality is the “least interesting thing” about him, we’ll wager that millions of queer fans will disagree. Also featuring the incomparable Lesley Manville (most recently an MVP in Ryan Murphy’s “Grotesquerie”), Jason Schwartzman, Henrique Zaga, and Omar Apollo.
MARIA (in theaters 11/27, Netflix 12/11) For the opera-loving crowd comes this widely touted biopic starring Angelina Jolie as legendary soprano Maria Callas, which covers the diva’s final days when she was living as a virtual recluse in Paris. The third and final film in Chilean filmmaker Pablo Larraín’s cinematic trilogy about the lives of important 20th century women (after 2016’s “Jackie” and 2021’s “Spencer”), this one competed for the Golden Lion prize at this year’s Venice Film Festival, where it sparked Oscar buzz for Jolie’s tour-de-force turn as the operatic icon.
NIGHTBITCH (in theaters 12/6) Queer viewers can dive into their feminist allyship with this body-horror-ific drama about an artist (Amy Adams) whose role as wife and mother (to a towheaded toddler) triggers a canine-esque transformation, complete with an enhanced sense of smell, unexpected body hair, and extra nipples on her belly. A metaphoric exploration of discovering personal power and transcending cultural expectations defining womanhood around traditional roles of homemaker and mother, it will undoubtedly spark complaints from the anti-”woke” crowd, which obviously scores points with us, every time.
THE ORDER (in theaters 12/6) There’s nothing specifically queer about this one, which stars Jude Law as a veteran FBI agent who confronts a zealous white supremacist rebel leader (Nicholas Hoult) in a “war for America’s soul,” but there are obvious points of connection in its fictionalized “what-if” fantasia based on 1980s headlines about the Aryan Nation spinoff group “The Order” and its campaign of robberies, bombings and murder. If you’re not a fan of Nazis (because no matter what they happen to call themselves, a Nazi is still a Nazi), this one is probably for you.
NICKEL BOYS (in theaters 12/13) Allyship is also the draw from this lengthy adaptation of Colson Whitehead’s Pulitzer-winning bestseller, starring Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor as a hotel housekeeper whose grandson (Ethan Herisse) is unjustly incarcerated in a reformatory during the “Jim Crow” era. Directed by Peabody Award winner (and Emmy and Oscar nominee) RaMell Ross, this anti-racist drama is based on a true story.
THE ROOM NEXT DOOR (in theaters 12/20) If any upcoming movie deserves a spotlight it’s this one, the first English-language feature by iconic queer Spanish filmmaker Pedro Almodóvar, in which a pair of former New York magazine colleagues (Tilda Swinton and Julianne Moore) reunite after many years when one of them is faced with a terminal cancer diagnosis and asks the other to help her “die with dignity.” With three such transcendent artists uniting to collaborate, our confidence level is elevated enough for us to suggest that this might be the highlight of the season for lovers of pure cinema.
BETTER MAN (in theaters 12/25) If you’ve never heard of Robbie Williams (and you’re an American), you can be forgiven, since the phenomenally successful pop singer-songwriter from the UK is a relatively unknown sensation on this side of the Atlantic, but this unorthodox musical biopic from “Greatest Showman” director Michael Gracey looks to be an introduction you’ll never forget. Depicting the well-publicized ups and downs of Williams’ personal life as it traces his rise to fame and beyond, it also depicts him as a chimpanzee – voiced by Williams himself and portrayed through CG motion capture by Jonno Davies – because, as the Brit-pop icon puts it, “I’ve always felt less evolved” than other people. It sounds odd, sure, but its September debut at the Telluride Film Festival was met with enthusiastic critical acclaim, and whether it works for you or not, it surely boasts the most unusual premise of any film this year that we’re aware of.
BABYGIRL (in theaters 12/25) Another unusual choice for Christmastime is this provocative erotic thriller from writer/director Halina Reijn, starring Nicole Kidman as a CEO who has become sexually bored with her husband (Antonio Banderas) and pursues an affair with a much-younger male intern (the incandescently beautiful Harris Dickinson), which weaves a steamy cautionary tale about the treacherous dynamics of power and sexuality within a professional setting. Another Golden Lion contender at Venice, it’s garnered heavy praise both for Reijn’s direction and Kidman’s performance; so while it may not be the kind of family-friendly holiday film you’ll want to see with mom and dad, it’s definitely one worth sneaking out for on a solo excursion while the rest of the family is sleeping off that holiday meal.
NOSFERATU (in theaters 12/25) Even less appropriate for the holiday season (unless the holiday is Halloween) but eagerly awaited nonetheless, this remake of F.W. Murnau’s venerable silent classic – a 1922 German Expressionist masterpiece based on Bram Stoker’s “Dracula” that is widely seen as the “granddaddy” of all vampire films – from always-buzzy filmmaker Robert Eggers (“The Witch,” “The Lighthouse”) is probably the perfect refresher after a month of cheer, festivities, sweetness, and light. Starring Bill Saarsgård as the sinister Count Orlok, with Nicholas Hoult and Lily-Rose Depp as the couple whose lives he infiltrates and Willem Dafoe as the professor who becomes his nemesis, it brings the gothic tale “into the 21st century” (says Eggers) and emphasizes the twisted obsessions and infatuations that tie its characters together. Long-delayed and much-anticipated, this one is already a guaranteed must-see for anyone who loves the genre – so if you need a seasonal connection, you can always think of it as a holiday gift for horror fans.
Movies
5 films about queer resistance to inspire you for the fight ahead
Lessons on activism and resilience that seem more crucial than ever
In times of trouble, movies can offer us a chance – temporarily, at least – to escape our worries. Sometimes, though, escape is not the answer. When the political climate turns stormy, they can also be a lifeline, connecting us with our history and helping us to clarify where we’ve been, where we need to go, and how we might manage to get there. With that in mind, here’s a list of great movies about LGBTQ activism, each with particular relevance to the cultural challenges we face as America braces itself for another round of Trumpism – because besides educating us about our past, they have the power to inspire us as we prepare to fight for our future.
Pride (2014)
Perhaps ironically, the first title (and only non-documentary) on our list is not an American tale, but a true story from the UK, a fictionalized chronicle of Lesbians and Gays Support the Miners (LGSM) – a group of LGBTQ activists who allied with striking coal miners in Thatcher-era Britain. Directed by Matthew Warchus and written by Stephen Beresford, it balances humor and gravitas as it follows a young, still-closeted student (George MacKay) and his involvement with a group of queer activists who decide to raise money to support Welsh miners impacted by the British Mining Strike of 1984. Despite initial hostility from the miners, a coalition is forged that lends strength to both causes, ultimately leading to the incorporation of gay and lesbian rights into the official Labour Party platform. An infectiously thrilling portrayal of the transformative power of solidarity, it’s a film that exemplifies the importance of intersectionality and the need for diverse marginalized communities to unite and take collective action against oppression. The message? We are stronger together than we are apart. Also starring Bill Nighy, Imelda Staunton, Dominic West, and Andrew Scott, it’s as entertaining as it is inspiring, a “feel-good” movie that also fires us up to stand firm against the forces of bigotry and repression.
The Times of Harvey Milk (1984)
No, we’re not dissing Gus Van Sant’s excellent 2008 biopic “Milk,” featuring Sean Penn’s star turn in the title role and Dustin Lance Black’s eloquent screenplay (both of which snagged Oscars), but for our purposes here, this documentary from director Rob Epstein – which won an Oscar itself – provides a less romanticized account of Milk’s life and work. The first openly gay elected official in California, he successfully fought against the discriminatory “Briggs Initiative” (famously championed by beauty-queen- turned-OJ-spokesmodel Anita Bryant), which sought to ban gay teachers in public schools, something that feels particularly relevant during a time when conservative American politicians are aggressively working to remove LGBTQ content from schools and erode queer representation in politics. Though his 1978 assassination alongside San Francisco Mayor George Moscone (by fellow City Supervisor and political rival Dan White) is probably a more familiar piece of history in the public imagination today, it’s the groundbreaking LGBTQ advocacy he spearheaded that forms the centerpiece of his enduring legacy, something that the tragedy of his martyrdom should not be allowed to overshadow. This moving, intimate documentary – which weaves archival footage and interviews into a compelling narrative about the intersections of politics and identity, reminds us of the stakes when marginalized voices go unrepresented by our legislators, and features narration from queer icon Harvey Fierstein – provides a more detailed and authentic look at the great work he accomplished during his short tenure than Van Sant’s fictionalized historical drama.
How to Survive a Plague (2012)
If any film on our list should be considered a “must-see,” it’s this widely acclaimed documentary from filmmaker David France, which chronicles the activism of ACT UP and TAG during the height of the AIDS epidemic. Through archival footage and testimonials, it follows the real-life activists who fought for medical treatments and government accountability in a time when their community was suffering a devastating loss, highlighting key figures like Peter Staley and Larry Kramer and providing a powerful portrait of a relentless advocacy effort that turned despair into action. With its themes of grassroots activism and equitable public health care, France’s auspicious directorial debut resonates deeply in today’s world, as queer communities face challenges in access to gender-affirming care and reproductive rights; seeing the tactics used by organizations like ACT UP to hold institutions accountable, modern activists can gain valuable insights about how to conduct strategic resistance against legislative attacks and discriminatory policies in public health care.
Call Me Kuchu (2012)
Not as well-known but equally resonant as the other films on our list, this doc from directors Katherine Fairfax Wright and Malika Zouhali-Worrall follows LGBTQ activists in Uganda, a country where homosexuality is criminalized, centering around the story of David Kato – the self-proclaimed “first gay man in Uganda.”After returning home from South Africa, where he “discovered gay life” for the first time, he started a non-profit LGBTQ organization (Sexual Minorities Uganda) to “spread the word about homosexuality” and track instances of homophobia in his country; he went on to became a fearless advocate for queer rights, facing immense personal and legal persecution before ultimately losing his life to anti-gay violence. The film also tracks efforts by the Ugandan government to pass the Anti-Homosexuality Act, which was partially orchestrated through the influence of U.S.-based Christian conservatives at a workshop funded by the American fast-food chain Chick-fil-A, and was condemned internationally as the “Kill the Gays Bill,” due to its inclusion of a death penalty clause. Though its focus is on an African nation, the film has clear relevance to the global struggle for queer acceptance, warning against the advancement of anti-LGBTQ ideologies by hate groups “protecting traditional values” under the guise of religion, and reminding us of how the fight for queer rights is interconnected worldwide.
Paris Is Burning (1990)
Jennie Livingston’s documentary delving into New York City’s drag ball culture of the 1980s is now iconic, a celebrated queer classic that immortalizes a deeply influential social scene and illuminates the lives of Black and Latino queer individuals as they try to navigate systemic racism, homophobia, and poverty, with an emphasis on their artistry, their resilience, and the “chosen families” they gather around themselves. Featuring a host of ballroom legends (Pepper LaBeija, Dorian Corey, Venus Xtravaganza, and more), it reveals stories of both triumph and tragedy while amplifying the experience of queer joy; it would later provide inspiration for Ryan Murphy’s groundbreaking series “Pose” – but more importantly, this essential LGBTQ classic highlights the inequities that persist in society today, when drag culture faces legislative attacks and trans women of color continue to be disproportionately targeted by violence,
Each of these films offers essential insights on queer resistance, illuminating the ongoing struggles and triumphs of LGBTQ communities. As we face a reinvigorated attack on queer rights under a hostile administration, they offer us lessons on solidarity, activism, and resilience that suddenly seem more crucial than ever.
Watch and learn, children, because you might now be our only hope.
Movies
Page shines in trans family drama ‘Close to You’
Authenticity reinforced by collection of superb performances
As we approach Thanksgiving 2024, it seems safe to say that holiday dinners with the family back home are going to be even more stressful than usual.
Those conversations with cousins and in-laws around the table have always been a minefield to navigate for queer people from traditional families. This year, knowing that the uncle seated across from you voted for somebody who might take away your hard-won rights is sure to make that turkey pretty hard to swallow. With scenarios like that looming large in our minds, there’s a particular twinge of poignance to be felt in watching “Close to You,” a Canadian film from writer/director Dominic Savage in which Elliot Page plays a trans man returning to his small-town family home for his father’s birthday after being away for nearly five years.
Sam (Page) has been living in Toronto, renting a room from a friend-and-surrogate-mother (Sook-Yin Lee) while exploring and adjusting to big-city life as a trans man; now, he’s ready to return home for the celebration, but nervous about the reception he might receive. On the train ride home, he runs into Katherine (Hillary Baack), his “bestie” from school, and the warm – if somewhat awkward – acceptance he feels from her buoys him as he goes on to face his father (Peter Outerbridge), mother (Wendy Crewson), and the siblings and significant others who make up his immediate family circle.
Things go reasonably well, at first, with a warm welcome from Mum, a newfound acceptance from Dad, and a tentative rekindling of connection with his sisters (Janet Porter, Alex Paxton-Beesley), but increasingly aggressive provocations from a transphobic extended family member (David Reale) become difficult to ignore. He finds an escape and some solace with Katherine, who overcomes an initial reticence to reconnect further after their chance reunion reawakens the emotional bond they once shared; but the old feelings and resentments stirred within his family dynamic threaten to derail any chance of true reconciliation at home, reminding him of why he left in the first place.
Moody, raw, and tinged with a melancholy that asserts itself even in its happier moments, Savage’s movie conveys a tone as chilly as the slushy Canadian winter of its setting. It takes the audience in close – literally, in the sense that much of it is shot in close-up, tight on its players’ faces as if we were part of the conversation – to provide a tangible feeling of intimacy and connect us to the emotional perspective of everyone involved. Much of it has an improvisatory feel, with dialogue that sometimes feels tentative or choked with uncertainty, yet allows for the eruption of frequent outbursts and the resonance of eloquently expressed thoughts. And its authenticity is reinforced by a collection of superb performances, with Page (who co-authored the film’s story with Savage) giving a deeply felt star turn as Sam and a gifted ensemble of actors in support. All together, it creates an atmosphere that effectively evokes the feelings of helpless vulnerability that are familiar to so many of us, queer or straight alike, when we return to the scenes of a youth that we longed to escape.
For some viewers, in fact, the film’s constant feeling of low-frequency anxiety will likely be too much. For many, of course, it will hit close to home, and trigger traumatic memories; for those who can’t relate, it may all seem a bit too “doom and gloom,” and others might see its respectful treatment of a trans narrative as being agenda-driven or even dismiss it as “woke” – though truthfully, those who might do that are not likely to be watching it in the first place.
Which is not to say that “Close to You” is a complete downer; there are plenty of uplifting moments, too, when connections shine through and we are reminded that, underneath all the confusion and misunderstandings that have strained Sam’s relations with his family, there is love – even if the characters themselves may not feel it in that moment. Nor does it put all the focus of his emotional wariness on his transness; on the contrary, much of the conflict is focused on feelings of isolation, of being judged for having a different focus to his life than the rest of his very traditional family, and other things which make him “different” that have nothing to do with his gender. It celebrates the value of “found” family in the glimpses it gives us of Sam’s other relationships, and even gives us a spark of unexpected romance. In many ways, it might even be seen as a “feel-good” movie, were it not for the sense of unanswered sadness that underpins it all.
That, perhaps, is what makes it resonate not just as a trans story (though it is certainly first and foremost that) but one about queer experience overall: the knowledge that, no matter what positive changes are made or how fully one embraces one’s truth and identity, there will always be people who will judge you for who you are. The problem isn’t within you – it’s within them, so it’s something you can’t fix, and there’s a sense of powerlessness that comes from that.
In the cultural climate that has been suddenly thrust upon us in America, that’s undoubtedly a realization that has been haunting many of our thoughts about who we can trust in a society that has repeatedly shown its willingness to cast us out. It’s for this reason that “Close to You” carries an additional impact for queer audiences that might have been intended at the time of its making; after all, that uncle across the Thanksgiving table may have treated you perfectly well your whole life, but when you know that his love for you was less than his concern over the price of groceries, it’s hard to trust him again – and we’ve just been given a sobering reminder that there is a chillingly large percentage of our friends and neighbors for whom the same can now be said.
“Close to You” premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival in 2023, and was released in Canada and the UK earlier this year, along with limited screenings in the U.S. It’s now available for home viewing via multiple VOD platforms.
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