“THE ACROBAT”  (L’Acrobate)

A Hook Up

Amos Lassen

Canadian writer-director Rodrique Jean’s “Acrobat (L’Acrobate)” shocks us with scenes of graphic sex and BDSM. Set in Montreal amid the endless construction of a hi-rise apartment, depressed businessman Christophe (Sébastien Ricard) meets an angst-filled, disabled squatter Micha (Yury Paulau). They hook up but they never exchange names even when former acrobat Micha moves in. Both men are keeping secrets, and both let go of their dark anguish/despair on one another via sado-masochistic sex.

I am quite sure that those unaccustomed to so much sex will not like this film but it is quite an elegant, visceral film that is quite brave.  We see erections, fellatio, masturbation and penetration. It is the particular approach of a filmmaker, that makes this so interesting.

In this ghostly space of a multi-story building still under construction, towers of a cold, distant downtown Montreal, bring together a humanity that seeks and never finds itself. Prevailing morality totally disappears and this is the vision of a Rodrigue Jean. It is radical and its exacerbated jeopardy in terms of male homosexuality in Quebec cinema is finally on display.

Sébastien Ricard with a white ghost-face at first transforms his facial appearance into something more assertive and warmly human once sex takes place. Yuri Paulau walks in through the front door and submits his athletic-acrobat body even when he is on crutches. Between too much or not enough, Rodrigue Jean offers his own moral about urban solitude.

Every 20 or so minutes, there is sex and not love. This is about the differences between being out-of-control and in-control in an in-and-out-of-control situation…”where the dominated is in the dominion of the dominator…but, not at his mercy…indeed, the complexity of the situation is far from clear…it’s the submissive who’s righting the wrongs and re-writing the rules. Having lost everything, he’s calling all the shots…self-esteem may be the only things he has left and that’s about to go tits up…or, is it?”

 For some, [sexual] humiliation is the ultimate expression of self-worth yet we wonder why some people want to be humiliated. Who really has the power in these situations? We see a fascinating power struggle that is artful and pornographic. It is uncomfortable to watch because we are aroused by what we see.

There are two interesting stories (although neither are fully fleshed)  and time seems to be wasted on unnecessary cityscapes and acrobatic sequences that do nothing to propel their stories forward. Still, this disconnection may have been the director’s intention…these men connect [only] physically.

Th e film is beautifully shot film and it is challenging but it takes a while to become involved. There are many gaps in the plot for us to possibly work out what is going through the minds of these two very complicated men where sex is merely a release for all their internalized rage.

The sexual explicitness doesn’t mean “The Acrobat” should be dismissed as pornography since this is a tale of anger and resentment that must find some outlet.

“UNDER THE RAIN”

Four Men

Amos Lassen

Four men occupy an old building in order to create an artistic project. Mike, the photographer, leads the group while the three other men who are models perform in a session that seems to move from the screenplay into  their lives. As the scene moves forward, Viktor, an artist will go on an impassioned trip through his feelings of doubt, fear and ambition, before climaxing into an erotic burst with the group. This is a story of will and perceptions that could easily reference us and our individual impressions of erotica.

Directed by Noel Alejandro, this is a quite explicit and subversive film that looks at art, career and ambition and I understand that it is autobiographical to a degree as it questions  the boundaries of obscenity and pornography.

It is as if director Alejandro is asking the audience how far he can go. He blends a silent rain, voiced metalinguistics and pure aesthetic erotica to share a story that is both problematic and relatable.

“Under the Rain” is explicit film, but far from porn. It explores erotica as an art form. Drawing on the director’s personal experiences and his perspective on art, ethics, obscenity, pornography, career and ambition, this is a surreal, moody, enigmatic, and arousing piece of work.

It stars Valentin Braun, Anteo Chara, Markus Reid, and Enki Babylon as four men immerse themselves an abandoned building for an art project. The boundaries between fiction and reality are blurred. We are not sure whether the conversations are scripted or real as doubts, fears, ambitions, and passions come to the fore and needs are satisfied. There’s plenty of explicit sex that feels authentic.

Alejandro says that a film, for me, is a journey within his own psychology and malice. The film is based on a concept that has been growing, modifying, and producing during the actual filming and editing.

THE BLUE FLOWER OF NOVALIS (“A rosa azul de Novalis”) 

A SAO PAULO LIFE

Amos Lassen

“The Blue Flower of Novalis” begins with a closeup on its subject’s private parts (being polite here) and it is hard to separate the pornography from its conversational approach to its subject, Marcelo Diorio. This documentary integrates the most mundane and unconventional elements of this São Paulo resident’s life and beliefs to create an unforgettable and explicit portrait.

The lens is trained tight on Diorio as he shares his physical and emotional self in direct conversation with those behind the camera. Surreal re-enactments occasionally break this structure and the unintentional comedy se sometimes distracts but Diorio’s commitment to the form.

Diorio commands the camera’s gaze and is in control of his narrative. Most of his anecdotes and beliefs are expressed with complete self-assurance and faith. No facet of Diorio’s life is off limits. He speaks about incest, death, family, faith, and his HIV diagnosis.  He is nonchalant as he shares his fears and disappointments about living up to his homophobic family’s expectations. His charisma and candor can only keep our attention for so long. The last 20 minutes of the film become pornography and a shocking yet sensitive exploration of Diorio’s sexuality, spirituality, and reconciliation of the two.

“The Blue Flower of Novalis”  uses provocation to provide narrative momentum making this a film  that is not for everyone. Yet even with its structural flaws, it is an empathetic, non-judgmental portrait of a man disregarding taboos and mores in his search for truth.

“The asshole needs to be urgently introduced into the social and political realm,” reads the closing line of Gustavo Vinagre  and Rodrigo Carneiro’s directors’ statement about the film. It opens with an extreme closeup of the asshole and it is framed at a disorienting angle, swelling and contracting as if it were breathing.  We then hear verse recited from off-screen and then the film cuts to a full shot of a naked man  in a yoga plough pose, reading from a collection of Hilda Hilst poems with his rear pointing upwards. Marcelo, the poetry-reading yogi, is a co-author of the film and we never know if what we see is staged or spontaneous.

There are moments that totally depart from reality, such as when Marcelo talks about his brother’s death, the camera shows a funeral happening on the other side of his apartment, with four grieving family members gathered around the brother’s casket. Marcelo joins them and (his voice digitally made to reverberate as if he were speaking inside a church), says that in their youth he and his brother had an incestuous relationship. When the film then returns to him sitting exactly as he was before the camera went to the funeral, it is implied that the scene was in Marcelo’s head and we’re not sure of how much of his revelation was genuine and how much was just part of a performance.

We see that Marcelo has used performing as a means of survival in real life as well. He is intelligent and well read. He gets inspiration and solace from his cultural idols including  Novalis, Georges Bataille, Nina Simone, Maria Callas, Franz Kafka and uses that inspiration to deal with the intolerance he deals with as a queer HIV-positive man who grew up in a homophobic family. By giving him mastery over his own narrative, the film does not see him as a victim.

The opening shot offers an illustration of the invasive nature of cinéma vérité that is outrageous and extremely powerful.