Foreign Steamy Romance

Frameline! I can’t tell you how excited I am to be covering the annual LGBT film fest for this blog—this is the first time I’ve reviewed exclusively for Foreign Steamy Romance. Also, the festival is especially awesome this year. At least, from what I’ve seen so far. But it’s been over two weeks since I last posted, so before I launch into anything, let’s talk blog changes:

• More direct post titles. I know you all love my clever post titles, most of which probably make sense only to me. But in the interest of making things more Google-friendly, thereby allowing new readers to find this blog, post titles will now get straight to the point. You’ll have to actually read on for my terrible puns and obscure references.
• More frequent posting. That’s right—no more unannounced two-week hiatuses.
• Less frequent posting. Wait, what? Well, I think it’s safe to assume I generally won’t be posting more than once a week either. With my other writing commitments (in addition to my positions at CultureMob and the SF Bay Guardian, I’m occasionally contributing to the Chronicle), I may not have the energy/motivation for anything more frequent than that.
• Same amount of shameless self-promotion. What can I say? Don’t worry, I’ll get this out of the way quickly. Read my 11 Things on vampires from last Thursday’s Chronicle! Follow me on Twitter! Become a fan of Foreign Steamy Romance on Facebook! See, that wasn’t so bad.

Anyway. Let’s talk about movies and sex!

Warning: mild spoilers for Dare.

Oh, Joe Dallesandro. As if I didn’t love you enough already. I’m not going to review Little Joe (2009), a documentary about Joe (naturally), because I already wrote an article on the film for the Bay Guardian. Besides, there’s not a lot of steamy romance—foreign or otherwise—in the movie. Instead, allow me to talk more about the man himself. I blogged about Dallesandro after I watched Flesh (read that post here), but hey, there’s always more that can be said about a veritable sex icon.

I didn’t actually watch Little Joe at the Castro; I’d seen a screener beforehand, and I spent that time meeting the film’s director, Nicole Haeusser, and the producer, Vedra Mehagian Dallesandro, both of whom I’d only talked to on the phone. I also got to meet Joe himself! Totally awesome, and if this were my LiveJournal and not a semi-professional blog, I would go on and on about how exciting that was. Anyway, I did get to stick around for the Q&A, which was fascinating in its own right. Several audience members were comfortable telling Joe that he was the stuff of their fantasies, that he was—as one man put it—”our Marilyn Monroe.” That’s the nature of Dallesandro’s sex icon status: he’s famous for turning people on. But it seemed curious following a film that explores how much more there is to Joe than his body. I’m certainly not offended on his behalf; I’m just wondering wha the audience got out of the movie, aside from the requisite nudity. Does seeing Little Joe—and then, seeing Joe in person—make him more than a fantasy? Or is it still all about sex?

Believe it or not, that’s a nice segue into Dare (2009). At first glance, it’s your typical queer high school dramedy: Alexa (Emmy Rossum) falls for bad boy Johnny Drake (Zach Gilford). To complicate things, so does her best friend Ben (Ashley Springer). But here’s the twist—Johnny reciprocates both of their affections. Here’s the other twist—he’s a whole lot more complicated than he seems. Dare gives us three fascinating and complex characters, who take a story we’ve seen before and give it a new edge. Yeah, it’s still a fun high school movie, but scratch the surface and you’ve got something that’s downright deep.

Johnny in particular is one of the most interesting characters I’ve encountered recently. It’s clear early on that he’s a lot more sensitive than you’d imagine; he really just wants a family! Which, OK, is cute but not mind-blowing. Given the nature of this blog, you won’t be surprised that I’m more fixated on his sexuality. Why does the ostensibly straight Johnny give Ben his first kiss? Why does he let Ben blow him? I don’t think it’s that he’s bi—I don’t even think it’s that he’s horny. There’s something so accommodating about Johnny’s nature: his insecurity has created an overwhelming desire to please. For Alexa, Johnny represents transgression, but for Ben, he’s just “amazing.” That’s an expectation Johnny feels obligated to meet.

There’s certainly an aspect of wish fulfillment here. Any gay boy can tell you he fantasized about the popular straight guy suddenly switching teams. I wouldn’t exactly call Dare realistic, but I give it major points for not falling into the trap of so many similarly themed films. In the Q&A after the movie, Rossum talked about the characters feeling like real people, largely a credit to screenwriter David Brind and director Adam Salky. She’s quite right. I liked this movie because the sexual politics were grounded in these characters, rather than being fabricated by the necessity of the plot. Would Johnny exist in real life? I’m not sure, but I believed in this Johnny—his anxiety, his confusion, and his sexual slippage. And not just because, as a former gay high school student, I really want to.

Next up: Drool (2009), Rückenwind (2009), Pornography (2009).

All images courtesy Frameline.