On April 2 at Boston’s Institute of Contemporary Art, a large group of well-dressed strangers gathered to kick off Boston’s 31st annual LGBT film festival. After an opening speech from executive director James Nadeau and a TV spot advertising the festival sponsor, the Elizabeth Taylor AIDS Foundation, attendees were primed for 10 days of films aiming to both “challenge and inspire.”
The mere fact that LGBT stories are being told is both challenging and inspiring in terms of cinematic history, but as for the quality of the films that make up this particular festival, the results have so far been mixed.
The opening event at the ICA kicked off with the New England premiere of “Eat With Me,” a romantic comedy from Los Angeles-based director David Au. It’s clearly a passion project for Au, partially funded by Kickstarter and based on a short film he made years earlier. It’s unfortunate, then, that the final product is so lackluster. Unfocused and confused in its plotting, it focuses on the relationship between an Asian-American chef living in LA and his mother as she comes to terms with his homosexuality. She comes to live with her son after a rift with his father, and he struggles to keep his restaurant open while navigating a potential suitor he meets one night in a bar. A wily neighbor (played by Nicole Sullivan of “King of Queens”) and a thoroughly unnecessary George Takei cameo enter the mix.
It’s all moderately charming and occasionally funny, but basic flaws keep us from fully investing ourselves: the sound is mixed poorly, the supporting performances are unsettlingly wooden and we ultimately don’t know what Au is trying to say. “Eat With Me” is no full-blown disaster, but it also reads as more of a mid-festival matinee than an opening night film.
Similarly disappointing is the documentary about Greg Louganis called “Back On Board,” played at the Fenway Community Health Center. Detailing the career and tumultuous personal life of Louganis, an Olympic gold medalist who is generally revered as the greatest diver of all-time, the film starts strong before taking a nosedive and barely treading water after the first third.
Its opening shots are jarring: footage of Louganis’s achievements as a young prodigy give way to silent shots of Louganis memorabilia lining shelves and filling corners. We then see an adult Louganis rubbing his temples, negotiating his mortgage with a faceless banker. Without resorting to didacticism, director Cheryl Furjanic suggests to us the price of being an openly gay athlete at a time when the AIDS crisis paranoia was reaching a fever pitch.
Unfortunately, the film proceeds with far less grace. Like “Eat With Me,” it lacks a particular focus. Obviously, it aims to educate the viewer about Louganis’ life, but it does so in a fragmented, unproductive manner that opts for throwing various elements at the wall rather than creating cohesive statements. It’s handsomely produced and occasionally affecting, but in the end, we get the sense that we’ve watched Louganis and his coach, Ron O’Brien, share drinks and watch old home videos rather than consume an actual documentary.
Not everything has been such a downer, though. Matthew Warchus’ “Pride,” released at the end of last year, retells the unusual story of a small, conservative Welsh mining community accepting financial aid from a London LGBT activist group in the mid-1980s. It occupies an unusual subgenre of British cinema: the rousing, funny heart-warmer about small communities with specific exports in financial trouble. There are the ex-steel workers of “The Full Monty” and the shoemakers of “Kinky Boots.” Similar to “Billy Elliot,” “Pride,” too, is set against the war between former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher and the miners of the United Kingdom.
What makes all of these films successful, and what their Disney-fied American counterparts lack, is a shot of genuine reality and a harshness that compliments the sweet rush of underdog stories. “Pride” maintains this: for every rousing disco number or victorious swell of the soundtrack, there’s bare-knuckled acknowledgment of the AIDS crisis or sobering shots of genuine economic despair.
It’s also a more political film than any of its spiritual British predecessors. While all of those stories harbor a vaguely liberal, pro-union “equality for all!” manifesto, “Pride” takes a lot of its core themes from the idea that fringe political groups gain unspeakable strength when they form coalitions. It tells its audience that shared oppression is an important galvanizing force for unlikely political allies. While this comes in a rather tidy inspirational package, it still packs a hell of a lot more punch than your average “beat the odds!” sports drama whose most profound musings involve hugging your dad more at dinner. It’s an emotional, sincere crowd-pleaser that actually has a chance at pleasing everyone in the crowd.
Perhaps the best film to be shown so far, one for which Nadeau expressed his personal excitement, is Greek writer/director Panos Koutras’ “Xenia,” which screened at the Brattle Theatre on Sunday evening. It’s a strange film, and a long one at 134 minutes, but it’s entirely unforgettable.
“Xenia” illustrates the story of two disconnected brothers (Kostas Nikouli and Nikos Gelia, both wonderful), one living in Crete, Greece and one in Athens, who unite to find their absent father after their mother’s sudden death. Sixteen-year-old Danny (Nikouli) is a flamboyant dresser who steadfastly carries a rabbit named Dido and has a penchant for casual hookups with older men. Ody (Gelia), 18, left Danny with their mother four years earlier and has carved a new life for himself in the city. During their journey, Danny convinces Ody, an incredible singer, to audition for Greek Star (an American Idol equivalent) with a song that their mother crooned to them during childhood.
Part comedy, part thriller, part aching family drama — with a number of wistful fantasy sequences thrown in for good measure — “Xenia” feels epic even in the scenes that just detail circular conversations between the brothers. At times, Danny borders on cartoonish, but we come to understand his affectations as symptoms of deep emotional scarring. This isn’t a coming-of-age story: these boys have already come of age, and it’s up to them to reconcile that with the world around them.
Festivals generally have the luxury and detriment of excessive content, but this year’s LGBT Film Festival sought to cut out the fat of years past and keep tight programming that would engage audiences both gay and straight. While they may have missed the mark with a number of selections, bright spots like “Pride” and “Xenia” have made attendance not only worthwhile, but potentially revolutionary in the world of LGBT storytelling.
The Boston LGBT Film Festival wraps up Sunday, with a shorts program titled “GTFO” at the Paramount Theater.
