GAY
FILM REVIEWS BY MICHAEL D. KLEMM
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GAY
FILM REVIEWS BY MICHAEL D. KLEMM
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Deleted Scenes Waterbearer
Films, Director: Screenplay: Starring: Unrated, 90 min. |
Discarded
Footage
Guerrilla filmmaker Todd Verow makes personal films without any concessions towards the mainstream and his latest is no exception. Frisk, his notorious 1996 debut, polarized gay audiences (Verow's adaptation of Dennis Cooper's controversial novel was a very politically incorrect study of an S&M enthusiast who might also be a serial killer - and it pushed a lot of buttons). Filming in digital video with non-existent budgets appears to be his preferred method of working. He trusts his actors to deliver improvisational scenes that get under your skin. 2004's Anonymous was an erotic yet harrowing portrait of a sex addict. 2006's Bulldog in the Whitehouse looked like a home movie but was also one of the best attacks of the Bush administration this reviewer has seen. Always the experimental director, 2007's Hooks To The Left was filmed entirely on a Nokia cell phone. |
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More
on Todd Verow : Berlin
Film Festival Essay: Brad
Halliwell also appears in: |
Verow's
latest, Deleted Scenes (2010),
is typically edgy and defies easy description. Deleted
Scenes explores a dysfunctional relationship between two
very different men. Sean (Michael Vaccaro) is an insecure and nervous
introvert with an escalating drug problem. He's also a bit of a stalker.
Wolf (Ivica Kovacevic) is a European emigre who likes to hustle on the
side. There's a little bit of Stanley Kowalski in this guy; he's both
vulnerable and hot. Wolf is outgoing, promiscuous, and surprisingly patient
with his needy new boyfriend. They don't seem to have much in common but
they do share an intense physical attraction and they enjoy a
lot of hot sex.
Deleted
Scenes
plays like a demented version of Bergman's Scenes From A Marriage.
The opening title card states that the following "deleted scenes" are
from an "unfinished / untitled dysfunctional relationship drama" and the
reasons for their removal are "length, denial, melodrama, believability,
bad dubbing, sexual content, etc." The suggestion that what we are watching
are the outtakes of the story (even if this clearly isn't the case) is
an intriguing one. Like most of Verow's films, Deleted
Scenes is hardly a conventional narrative. The film even ends with
an "alternate ending" which is actually an earlier scene re-played in a
minor key. Verow's scripts are sometimes all over the place (not unlike
one of Jack Kerouac's Beat novels) but he is quite good at capturing realistic
and evocative moments that resonate on almost primal levels. When we eavesdrop
on lovers in a Verow film, we know we're not watching a Doris Day comedy.
Each
of these segments are given titles, some of them gently mocking the film's
format, like "Sean speaks to Wolf for the first time (bad dubbing)." Their
initial meeting consists of checking each other out on a public pier.
Sean, who talks too much when he gets nervous, makes the first awkward
move. They exchange phone numbers by calling each other. Wolf's cell phone's
ringtone is a medley of jungle animal roars and it comically suits his
nature. There's a full moon that night and Sean asks Wolf if he should
be scared. The next fragment, entitled "Mailbox full," introduces Sean
the stalker, repeatedly leaving phone messages until Wolf finally calls
him back to arrange a first date. His neurosis becomes even more farcical
(or pathetic) later when he anxiously calls Wolf and wakes him up so that
he can ask him if he's home. Then, to be even more annoying, he whines
"prove it." 
Explicit
sex, as is often the case in Verow's films, takes center stage quite often.
Is this porn with a plot? Some might think so, but there is too much else
going on to make such a gross simplification, even though the sex is even
more raw than Verow's usual standards in this one. Carnal experiments
become crucial to their character development. When Wolf first arrives
at Sean's apartment, he is greeted by a carefully staged tableau: Sean
sits nonchalantly, shirtless, watching hard core gay porn. His intentions
couldn't be more obvious. Wolf takes the hint, steps in front of the television,
turns it off, and pulls his shirt over his head. The subsequent sex is
explicit, yet artsy with a mix of jump cuts and long takes. Sexy kisses
last for several feet of film. 
What
begins as two fuck buddies grows into something more. Are these men made
for each other? Probably not. Sean is too needy, yet Wolf seems to want
somebody to look after. The glimpses of their marriage leave searing flashes
like one of James Joyce's epiphanies. We are privy to all of their private
moments. An arm draped across a chest, a smile of contentment; these are
among the small loving gestures that make the earth move under their feet
and ours. A shot of the lovers sharing a bath recalls beautiful images
from European cinema. But there's also plenty of drama between these two.
Sean's possessiveness becomes disturbing and creepy. Discovering that
his boyfriend is a hustler becomes a catalyst for violence. When Sean's
drug use spirals out of control, Wolf ties up his detoxing lover with
duct tape and the scene is strangely hot, hilarious, and underscored by
an odd pathos.
Adding
interest, but also interrupting the main narrative thread are a bevy of
supporting characters. Verow appears as John, an amateur porn filmmaker
who pays Wolf to perform in his videos. John meets a nasty end when he
moves on to a new hustler. 
Verow
saves the most interesting moment for last in the segment entitled "Alternative
Ending." It appears that the relationship may be over, or perhaps this
is Sean's last ditch effort to save it. Sean calls Wolf and asks if they
can rendezvous on the pier where they first met and re-enact their first
meeting. The dialogue from the earlier scene is repeated verbatim but
this time Sean's nervous delivery has been replaced with a profound sadness.
There's also a light rain and Wolf punctures any banal sentimentality
by looking ludicrous as he holds an umbrella.
The
script by Verow and his longtime artistic partner, James Derek Dwyer,
is a realistic one and not a fluffy romantic comedy. Vaccaro and Kovacevic
are both suitably intense as the dysfunctional lovers and they deliver
terrific performances. The actors are both handsome men, and they look
good naked, but neither is a perfect, buffed runway model and that is
a plus in the film's favor. It seems that most of the film was shot in
sequence (Vaccaro's chest hair gets thicker as the film progresses) and
it shows in the acting - their chemistry intensifies. They are convincing
as lovers getting to know one another, and then as a couple who has had
enough. A lot of the photography, most of it shot by the director, has
a very European feel to it. A silhouette of the two men kissing behind
a frosted glass French door window is reminiscent of Bertolucci. The music,
by Dwyer, is quietly effective without being obtrusive. A few of the best
moments are allowed to play out in silence. 
I've
written before, flippantly, that I have a love-hate relationship with
Verow's films - in much the same way that I once reacted to the early
films of