TW child abuse. Some spoliers: This is a tough film to discuss. I almost didn't watch 'Young Hunter,' because, from the scant description, I knew it is about predatory behaviour and I find this topic difficult on multiple levels. First, depictions of child abuse sometimes hit me hard, as a survivor of child sexual assault. Second, there's an historical link between paedophilia and moral panic about homosexuality that erroneously links the two, and is used to unjustly perpetuate homophobia. This Argentinian production is a pensive and layered look at a tough issue. It is an exploration about how homophobia leaves some young men vulnerable to coercion.
The film centres on Eze, who is 15, gay, but not out. We see early the difficulties he faces in trying to hook up with boys his own age. He faces ridicule, exposure and potential violence if he doesn't carefully manage his sexuality. At a skate park, he meets Mono, who appears around 20. They hang out, hook up, and connect emotionally. We learn they both knew they were gay around the same age (13 & 14 respectively), and both had their first sexual experiences with older boys and men. Eze, with 18 year olds who used him for sex and then never spoke to him again. Mono, reveals little, but is holding back a history of abuse.
This film has an eerie atmosphere, where boys are almost always in harms' way, whether it's the fear of being outed, or being forced into heterosexuality (everyone questions the 14 & 15 year olds about when they'll get a girlfriend), and much worse.
I don't recommend this film to survivors. There are no onscreen depictions of rape, but predatory behaviour and of lack of consent are disturbing. Mono is a child abuse survivor. Both Mono and Eze are coerced into sexual exploitation and are consumed by shame.
At its heart, this film has multiple important messages: talk to your kids about sex. Don't presume heterosexuality, because this forces queer kids into a place of distrust and potential exploitation. And like the previous film I reviewed (Tu Me Manques), the biggest take away is perennially relevant, whether your kid is 15 or 50: tell them you love them, unconditionally... ⬇️continued⬇️
TW suicide: I went into Tu Me Manques with trepidation: a Bolivian film about gay men and suicide is an important topic. Yet most Latin films that make it to Australia about queer people deal with shame and tragedy. This film does this too, while mostly celebrating the lives and love of gay men.
This is both a film within a film, and a play within a film. The script is based on a popular play of the same name, which led to many national conversations in Bolivia about the link between family isolation ang high LGBTQIA suicide rates. The film opens with Jorge (Oscar Martínez), Gabriel's father, accidentally Skype calling Seba (Fernando Barbosa), Gabriel's ex-boyfriend. Jorge is enraged. He blames Seba for Gabriel's 'lifestyle.' Seba is confused, he feels if Jorge only got to know him, he'd better understand him and his relationship with his son. The conversation escalates quickly, and we learn that Seba didn't know Gabriel has died by suicide, only days after going back home to Bolivia to tell his family he is gay.
Seba is devastated. He didn't understand why Gabriel had broken up with him prior to his voyage, but still supported Gabriel's trip and saw him off to the airport. During the Skype call, Jorge is cruel and insolent. Seba, heartbroken, tells Jorge he will now never truly know his son.
The words haunt Jorge as he struggles to deal with Gabriel's death. Jorge shows up in New York, at Seba's door. His anger has melted and there's only profound grief. Jorge longs to understand his son, who had felt in life he had to choose between staying closeted and unhappy, or disowned and unhappy. And so Gabriel felt forced to end his life.
Seba chooses to show Jorge the real Gabriel, a man who experienced grand love.
The film is clever, using 3 actors to portray Gabriel, and 30 actors to play Gabriel in the play. The film deals with the wonder of finding love, of feeling worthy of being loved, and parental love of grown children. Highly engaging, and devastating in a beautiful, life-affirming way, the script and acting are superb. 8/10
Intersectionality: one minor, and pivotal role is played by an Afro-Latino (Modesto Lacen). ⬇️ continued ⬇️
I'm smiling here, but I've had a tough weekend! I've just published a blog post I've been planning to address for some time. Facebook hides 98% of page content from followers. Most of what you see on your feed is paid content (that's why a lot of what gets pushed out is news articles and brands). As a manager of multiple pages, I'm bombarded several times a day by Facebook, telling me to pay to promote my own content. My page (The Other Sociologist) is a not-for-profit providing education. I make no income on my public sociology. It's simpy untenable for me to keep battling Facebook's strong arm tactics.
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At least 1,000 people visit my blog everyday, even when I haven't published anything new in months (up to 23,000 people when I publish something that's widely shared). On other platforms, like Twitter, I regularly reach thousands of people, but on Facebook, only handfuls of my followers ever see my posts. Why would I pay for this rubbish model? .
Head to my blog to read about what it's like to be a page manager fighting against Facebook's vile model. Link in bio
