Queer – Page 4 – Nicolas Demers

VQFF Review: Frauensee

I’m honestly not sure what to make of Frauensee. It was an interesting movie, well-acted, with some nicely-explored characters and gorgeous shots of the German countryside. But there was no real plot, no resolution to the personal drama or even to the one minor side plotline. It left me feeling vaguely frustrated.

Maybe I’m approaching it from the wrong perspective. My only previous exposure to German lesbian cinema is To Faro, the 2011 VQFF’s opening gala film, and it was similar in a lot of ways: big focus on atmosphere, minimal plot that left lots of room for emotional drama but without any real character growth, and a very open-ended conclusion that wasn’t so much a dénouement as just an ending, and which left a bittersweet aftertaste. So maybe this is typical of the genre?

Rosa is a warden looking over a lake in the country, setting traps and watching for poachers. Her lover Kirsten is a high-powered architect from the big city who owns and fully renovated a house by the lake, which she comes down to on the weekend to relax. Though half the time, she’s still running her business over the phone anyway. I think in her eyes Rosa is just a part of her weekend getaways: she enjoys them but has no interest in making it full-time. Kirsten does care about Rosa but doesn’t know anything about her world, and doesn’t particularly care to.

Case in point: the one side plot involves some mysterious poacher stealing fish from Rosa’s traps. If she catches him, Rosa would have every right to ban him from the lake, but Kirsten advises her to talk with him, get his side of the story, maybe find some middle ground that could keep both of them happy. Not only does this come of as really condescending, it just reflects how out of touch Kirsten is: I’m sure in the big city it’s all about compromise and you-scratch-my-back-I’ll-scratch-yours, but in the country, it’s not okay to steal from people and damage their property.

On the weekend’s first day, Rosa catches two young college students, Evi and Olivia, stealing from her trap (because they forgot to bring enough food) and setting camp on an island that’s a nature preserve (against Rosa’s explicit instructions). Instead of throwing the book at them, Rosa joins them and then invites them back to Kirsten’s house for dinner, then allows them to stay for a few days. Evi starts to hit on Rosa almost continually whenever she thinks they’re alone, and while Rosa is kind of annoyed, she isn’t exactly saying no either. Olivia isn’t thrilled either, though she’s learned to put up with Evi’s shameless flirting.

All of their tensions and frustrations come to a boil a couple days later during a booze- and pot-fueled party at the house, where everybody spills their guts to everybody else. Nothing actually changes, though, and I don’t know if anybody has learned anything. It was all revelations that the audience and most of the characters knew anyway, the only difference is that it’s all in the open.

The last scene shows Rosa leaving for work at dawn as usual, the three other women still sleeping. But where is Rosa really headed? Is she running away from all these new revelations? Is she finally leaving Kirsten and heading off into the sunrise of a brand new life? Or doggedly going back to work just to go through this same crap over and over?

So yes, like I said, an interesting film. It didn’t really speak to me, but I did quite enjoy it, not least because of the gorgeous shots of the lake—the huge sky, the rippling water, the surrounding woods, the wind in the reeds—and the glimpse of quiet German rural life. I’m not sure if it was the best choice for a closing gala film—the last two were definitely more upbeat—but hey: a little moodiness and introspection never hurt anybody.

VQFF Review: I Do

I Do is the first dud of the festival. It looked good on paper, and was pleasant enough to watch, but I found it preachy and uninspired, and overally very forgettable.

Ten years ago, Jack’s brother Peter was on top of the world: he’d just gotten his green card (they’re both British, having lived in the States since they were teens), and his lovely wife Mya was expecting; but later that night after a celebratory dinner he was run over by a car in full view of Jack and Mya. Since then, Jack has become a surrogate father to his niece and a quasi-husband-type-person to Mya and has focused pretty much all his emotional energies on supporting them. He used to be an avid photographer but now is employed as an assistant in a photo studio, repairing cameras and so on. He has little time for relationships, instead hooking up with fuckbuddies from time to time.

Then out of the blue, two things happen: Jack’s visa is about to run out, and due to new rules put in after 9/11 there’s no way to renew it in time. He wants to stay and help take care of Mya and Tara, but how? The only option is marriage, and that has to be to a woman. Even though same-sex marriage is legal in New York State, it is not recognised by immigration law. His sister-in-law—the first logical choice—will have no part of it, since it might lead to jail time if authorities found out the fraud. His next choice is his lesbian BFF Alison, who agrees.

Around the same time, he meets someone at a gallery showing: Mano, a suave, urbane, intellectual Spanish-American architect, and it’s love at first sight. But their budding romance is complicated by Jack’s need to maintain his straight masquerade, and his constant running off to take care of Mya.

Eventually, Alison gets spooked from repeatedly dealing with Immigrations and their questioning, and sitting home alone every night while Jack is gallivanting off with Mano, and asks for a divorce. Coincidentally, Mano has to return home to take care of his ill father. He invites Jack to move to Spain with him—they could even get married!—but Jack wants to stay in the US with Mya if he possibly can. In the end he can’t, and he accepts that he needs to live for himself instead of for Mya, so he moves to Spain to be with Mano. The end.

I think part of the problem with I Do is that it tried to shoehorn two different stories together: a political one, about gay marriage in the US; and a personal one, about Jack’s relationship with Mano and their respective family responsibilities. The rest of the problem is that neither of the stories were that engaging to begin with. The romance storyline was uninspired and by-the-numbers, and the gay-marriage storyline was clunky and preachy. I guess it tried to send a Big Message about love and how it must be respected, but it just seemed to be trying too hard.

VQFF Review: Bwakaw

Bwakaw is a gorgeous movie about loss, regret and hope, a touching reminder that it’s never too late to start living.

Bwakaw is a gorgeous movie about loss, regret and hope, a touching reminder that it’s never too late to start living.

Meet Rene, a curmudgeonly old man living in a small town not too far from Manila. A retired janitor at the local post office, he still comes in to work every day in spite of barely tolerating his coworkers because hey, it beats sitting at home by himself. In fact, his home isn’t much to look at: it’s old and kind of decrepit, filled with boxes he’s never opened, with no furniture except a table and a bed—the latter half-occupied by a supposedly-miraculous statue of Christ he inherited from his mother.

Rene’s grumpiness is at first only played for laughs, but underneath there’s deep pain: he came out very late in life, has never been in love, has never even kissed another man. Though he regrets all the missed opportunities, he now feels he’s too old for love; so he’s resigned to his lot in life, to be alone amongst a bunch of loons and idiots, and reserves all his affection for his loyal dog Bwakaw who he takes everywhere he goes.

It’s Bwakaw that causes an argument with taxi driver Sol. Sol wants to charge Rene double for the extra passenger (ie: the dog), but Rene only tells him to piss off. Their paths keep crossing, with their squabble flaring up in increasingly funny ways (Sol puts up a “No dogs” sign on his windshield? Rene responds by holding up a “No baldies” sign by the side of the road—Sol is pretty sparse on top despite being in his thirties). However, the hatchet is buried when Bwakaw falls ill and Sol drives Rene to the vet.

It turns out Bwakaw has very advanced cancer; Rene never suspected since he hardly ever touched her and she never complained. At this point there’s nothing for the devastated Rene to do except give Bwakaw regular painkillers and make her as comfortable as possible until the end.

Oddly, in every other way this seems to be a time of positive change for Rene. He loosens up quite a bit; reconciles with his only gay friend (a very fey hairdresser) and even agrees to colour his hair brown to cover the grey, which looks great; Sol sticks around to help repaint the house and do other odd jobs. The two chat late into the night, and Rene discovers he has feelings for him. While Sol is sleeping, Rene tenderly starts stroking his face, and plants a couple of light kisses on his lips. But then Rene wakes up and… doesn’t take it well. Rene is left alone. Again.

Bwakaw dies soon after, but for Rene this isn’t the end. He unpacks all his boxes, bringing out flowerpots, drapes, rugs, all sorts of lovely knickknacks, and his house becomes what it should have been all along: a colourful, inviting, well-lit home. And then he leaves for a walk, taking only a walking stick. He should look lonely without Bwakaw, but there’s a certain spring in his step, and he looks free: free to explore, free to hope that there’s more to life than regret and waiting to die.

The very last scene has Rene on the road, walking along, and a taxi passes by. I think it’s meant to be Sol’s taxi; if it is, Rene pays it no mind. He’s fucked up with Sol, and that can’t be undone. But that’s life; you fuck up every once in a while, and then you move on. That’s Bwakaw‘s message, and it’s an uplifting one. No matter what your situation, no matter what you’ve done or left undone, it’s never to late to start fresh.

VQFF Review: W Imie / In The Name Of…

This is a tragic and disturbing tale of faith, shame, secrets and one man’s quest for love.

Adam is a Catholic priest who cares deeply about his flock. As the movie opens he is assigned to a boys’ school in the Polish coutryside—mind you, the “boys” are actually in their late teens, and looking back I’m not sure it’s really a school. They seem to spend a lot of their time digging ditches, moving heavy equipment around and other manual labour. From the dialog I think this lot seems to have come from a very harsh reform school, and the bad ones are threatened with being shipped back there.

In one scene the school director’s wife point-blank asks Adam how he could get transfered from Krakow to a nowhere shithole like this, and he calmly replies that priests do get moved around, and he goes wherever the Church chooses to send him. But in fact, he had been having sexual relations with a boy under his charge (around the same age as the boys in this place, so he was probably of legal age) and the church authorities had to move him.

Adam finds himself attracted to new student Lukasz, a very troubled boy who apparently was a bit of a pyromaniac. What complicates things is that the attraction is mutual, though for a long time the two don’t go beyond hugs and lingering looks. They do bond emotionally, though; in one awesome scene, the two of them are walking back from the lake where Adam had been teaching Lukasz how to swim, and Lukasz runs off into a nearby cornfield to play hide and seek. Instead of leaving him or acting like a stern authority figure, Adam decides to meet him on his terms and play for a while, even echoing Lukasz’ weird apelike howls.

But this delicate situation can’t last: the school director sees Adam and Lukasz parked together by the side of the road—in broad daylight, and nothing really happened, but it looks wrong enough that he reports it to the local bishop. In what is easily the creepiest scene in the movie, the bishop assures him that no, he didn’t really see anything wrong. Yes, he was right to report it, but now there’s no need to make a big deal out of it. The poor guy was asked to lie to himself to help the Church save face.

And so Adam is transferred again, his record tainted even further. Lukasz torches the local convenience store, where some local assholes used to bully him. When we catch up with them it’s at least several months later, possibly a year or two. Lukasz got his life together and is working construction not too far from the old school. He hears that Adam is living close by, and he immediately leaves work to find with him. Poor Adam has sunk even further into drink and depression, living by himself in a dingy hovel—possibly still in the priesthood, though I’m not sure. In one of the movie’s few bright spots, they kiss (awkwardly) and go on to share a tender night.

This movie could be seen as a critique of the Catholic Church. And yes, that’s part of it; but the Church authorities don’t exist in a vacuum. Do the problems start with bishops’ top-down authoritarianism, expecting not only obedience, but complete faith in their right to dictate reality? Or with lonely priests doing a mostly thankless job, held to impossibly high standards but with no real emotional support? Or with lay people’s acceptance of their doctrine? Or with these boys’ ignorance and casually homophobic bullying of each other? Under the veneer of rituals and traditions, of hymns and incense and lovely golden crosses, the roots of Catholicism are at best flawed, and at worst downright poisonous.

It’s an ugly picture all around, and we’re given no easy answers. Except maybe that, in this messed-up world, you should follow your heart and find what joy you can. Save yourself first, then worry about saving others.

VQFF Review: The Coast is Queer

I always look forward to The Coast is Queer, the VQFF’s showcase of local filmmakers. I was particularly impressed this year, though. I expected quality, but some of the offerings floored me.

Chainsaw Ballet

A funny and random little piece, with two girls in woodcutter plaid singing a pseudo-folk song while three husky bears dance with chainsaws.

Playing It Safe

This odd little short features a woman with a cardboard box around her head, meeting and falling for a woman who persuades her to take the box off. What’s interesting is that she was doodling on the SkyTrain, expressing herself artistically while still remaining anonymous. A metaphor for the internet, maybe? Cute and sweet, anyway.

Bill is a Photographer

I’ll be honest, this is not what I expected from Clark Nikolai. It’s much more serious and reflective, taking a step back to look at the craft of photography and filmmaking. It features a Vancouver photographer (Bill) who specialises in plant close-ups and studio photography. He talks about studying the lighting techniques used 70’s gay porn mags, and about creating his own porn featuring older bear guys. This film was tied to win The Coast is Queer Award.

The Bonus

In this fast-pace and hilarious piece by David C Jones, an employee in some nameless corporation accidentally locks himself out of the utility room where he was planning a date with his boyfriend. The other problem? He’s wearing assless chaps, and so has to dodge around his weekend-working boss, nabbing her set of keys and putting them back without being seen.

A Little Elbow Room

This is one thing I love about The Coast is Queer: how filmmakers turn their lens on the local community. Here we’re looking at The Elbow Room, run by the flamboyantly bitchy Patrick Savoie for decades. In between shots of Patrick abusing his customers (with love), he and his partner reminisce about the Elbow Room’s history, and their history together.

June

A creepy short film about a ghost haunting his widowed partner’s piano. I don’t know who’s in more pain here: the partner, still grieving; or the ghost trying vainly to play music.

Kimchi Fried Dumplings

A beautifully made and gripping slice-of-life family drama. There’s conflict, love, family responsibilities, hitting on hot firemen. Loads of characters but they’re all three-dimensional and given screen time to develop. Kudos to Jason Karman! This was my favourite short of the night.

Says Who?

An intriguing story of a young blind gay guy and and older straight guy awkwardly bonding. It turned out to be all in the mind of an artist who had seen them together on the bus and dreamed up the whole scenario.

Driving to You

A very short but shocking film of a homophobic mother and daughter getting in a car accident and the daughter being seriously injured, forcing her to reconcile with her daughter’s partner. Sort of.

Bill, Please!

How do you decide who pays the bill after a meal? Well, you could discuss it like grownups… or you could have an awesome martial arts fight with ninja and zombie minions! This film won Jessica Han the The Coast is Queer Award (tied with Clark Nikolai), the OUTtv Hot Pink Shorts Award, and the Gerry Brunet Memorial Award. Well done!

Tap Tap Tap

It’s still as fun the second time around!

VQFF Review: G.B.F.

G.B.F. is smart and hilarious fluff, gleefully playing with every gay and high school cliché out there, and then some. Three flavours of Alpha Bitch (four if you count Soledad)? All yours. Pop culture shoutouts left and right? You got it. Sexually repressed and/or closeted Mormons? That’s a check. It does get a little bit too earnest at times, when pleading for the end of labels and how we’re all human and blah blah blah; but aside from that the laughs never stop.

Shy nerd Tanner is always first in line to get all the latest gadgets, but has no intention of being the first kid to come out at his high school. But then his rather more flamboyant friend Brent learns about the latest hot accessory: the Gay Best Friend, which no cool girl should be without! One thing leads to another, as they do in comedies like this, and Brent’s plan to leap out of the closet and be the most in-demand G.B.F. ever backfires spectacularly with Tanner getting outed to the whole school.

It’s rough at first being the only out gay kid in school: not only do jocks want to beat him up, but the Gay-Straight Alliance’s obnoxious president wants him to join her group and give her life meaning. But when the school’s three head girls start hanging out with him and protecting him from the jocks, Tanner realises it’s not so bad.

You know how the rest goes, right? Popularity—not to mention the promise of a hot British date for prom—starts getting to Tanner’s head and he forgets his old friends, Brent is bitter and lonely and forced to watch Brokeback Mountain with his aggressively gay-friendly mom (and may I say that Megan Mullally is as awesome as ever), the head bitches and their allies square off for a massive war centered on the prom, Brent plots to ruin Tanner’s evening by dumping glitter on him, Carrie-style, but of course he decides against it at the last second and the two reconcile.

I absolutely loved this film. It’s hilarious, excellently paced, nicely acted (again, props to Megan Mullally), and did I mention hilarious? Absolutely everything is played for laughs, even things that really shouldn’t be (high school closets, the need for GSAs) and you know what? That’s exactly what I needed. As much as I love the dramas and documentaries, this movie was a breath of fresh, sassy air.

VQFF Review: Chitrangada: The Crowning Wish

This film, inspired by Nobel Prize-winner Rabindranath Tagore’s 1892 play Chitrangada, is a quiet and moving meditation on gender, identity and transformation. The late Rituparno Ghosh directs and acts with an understated but confident intensity, creating an incredibly compelling tale.

Director Rudra Chatterjee (played by Ghosh) is putting together a production of Chitrangada. In the play (itelf inspired from a tale in the Mahabharata), princess Chitrangada is the heir to the kingdom of Manipura, raised as a man and a warrior due to a prophecy that her father would only raise sons. She meets the great hero Arjuna and falls in love with him. But, feeling he could not love her as she is, she asks the God of Love to transform her into a beautiful feminine woman. He does so, and Arjuna falls in love with her. However, Chitrangada is unhappy since in this new form she is failing as her kingdom’s protector, and moreover she wishes Arjuna to know her real self. So she reveals the truth to Arjuna; he loves her even more as an equal, they marry and have a son who eventually reigns over Manipura.

Early in the production, Rudra falls for his troupe’s new drummer Partho, an unpredictable heroin addict who takes pleasure in taking Rudra’s ego down a peg. I cringed a lot during their early interactions, because Partho was kind of a jerkass and I couldn’t see why the sophisticated, dignified Rudra would have anything to do with him. True, he was trying (eventually, successfully) to get clean, but still.

Eventually, they talk about having children. Partho wants them, and Rudra wants to be with Partho, so he proposes becoming a woman. Same-sex couples can’t adopt in India, so this seems like the logical choice. Partho doesn’t think so, but Rudra is determined. He moves out of his parents’ place, to spare them the shame, and is fast-tracked through the gender reassignment process.

But things don’t go well. Rudra and Partho break up, and Rudra’s mood worsens. He starts suffering from insomnia, and due to the surgery has trouble practicing his old dance moves. It doesn’t escape his notice that his life is paralleling Chitrangada’s story, with the surgeon standing in for the God of Love, and Partho for Arjuna. And himself as the aristocratic warrior who chose to become someone else, out of love.

At the very last minute, with the help of his counselor, Rudra decides not to go through with the final surgery (genital reconstruction?) and asks the doctor to reverse the whole process. He would rather be a passionate, creative director and dancer, reconciled with his parents, than a beautiful woman with unknown gifts and without a family.

The story was told in a somewhat non-linear format, with generous use of flashbacks to switch between the present time (Rudra alone in the hospital) and the past (Rudra with Partho) not to mention short snippets of the Chitrangada play-within-a-movie. I admit, it made some parts of the story a little hard to follow—especially the scenes with the mysterious photographer posing as a hospital counselor. He was the one who made Rudra reconsider his choices, but I don’t remember when and how they first met. I’m sure a lot of the symbolism—the house on the beach, for one—went over my head, and that’s not even counting any additional references to Chitrangada which I only know from its Wikipedia entry. This is a movie with layers, and I’ll want to watch it again for a fuller understanding.

If I were to pick a message for this movie, what would it be? What I’m getting is that changing yourself (in whatever capacity, up to and including surgery) can be a great thing, but it has to be for the right reasons, and you must remain true to your dreams and your passions. In the end, maybe the best thing you can wish for is to be yourself, to be the best self you can be, and that is the only way to happiness. Trite and clichéd? Maybe, but it works for me. And it’s something I need to be reminded of every once in a while, though my dreams of transformation involve superhero tights rather than princess dresses.

VQFF Review: Meet the Glamcocks

This film, directed by Vincent Rommelaere, takes a look at Camp Glamcock, a gay camp at Burning Man founded just a few years ago. Filmed in 2012, it’s very engaging and tons of fun, with some impressive visuals—the Arizona desert, insane Burning Man art pieces, and the Glamcock camp structure itself—and, naturally, a lot of hot guys.

Thing is, though, once you scratch the surface, I got to wondering what it is that makes the Glamcocks special, and… coming up dry. Is it more than just a week-long gay-club-slash-camping-trip? I really couldn’t tell. So I think it’d be interesting to compare and contrast the Glamcocks with the Beavers, because there are some very important differences.

Camp Glamcock started with a few friends, who brought in more of their friends. There was no more purpose to it than that, unlike the Beavers who are intentionally creating a safe space for queer women. I don’t think the Glamcocks provide any service to the larger community except for killer parties and drag shows. If they do help out nearby Camp Beaverton in any way the movie doesn’t mention it.
Likewise, the idea of a physical safe space is apparently not even on the radar. The Glamcocks’ structure is completely open, even the shower, with only one covered section on the second floor, presumably the sleeping area. All the better to host dance parties!
Physically, the Glamcocks are incredibly homogeneous. They seem to be all 20- or 30-something fit, smooth, muscly guys, all white except for one black guy. The interview segments only featured one older gentleman with grey hair, and one somewhat skinnier guy—who still fit the mold pretty well. Where are the bears? Where are the femme guys? Where are the trans guys? Mind you, I have heard that Glamcock is only one of several gay camps at Burning Man, which include a camp for bears, and one for gay Asians. So there’s that.

One thing that this film does, though, is spend more time outside of the camp and look at the rest of Burning Man. And though Camp Glamcock is not an especially spiritual place, a couple interviews with individual Glamcocks did resonate with me. One spoke of walking out in the desert one time, alone, and just being there. No checking Facebook, no talking, no plans, just being in the moment. I loved that, and I’m wondering how many people set out for Burning Man with this kind of thing in mind, but get distracted by all the insanity surrounding them.

Another bit I loved was the visit to the Temple. Not only is it a gorgeous piece of architecture, but it exists only for the greater community, providing people with a quiet space for reflection and spiritual expression. Atheist as I am, I understand that’s a valid need, and if I ever go to Burning Man I’ll be sure to visit it. People leave messages for absent friends, prayers to the universe, fears they need to leave behind, burdens they need to drop. And it all goes up in flames at the end of the week.

So those parts were good. Overall, though… Meet the Glamcocks was a very well-done film, and I did enjoy it very much, but thinking back on it I feel its focus was narrow. I would have loved to see other Burning Man gay camps (which I only learned about two days later), and see how—or whether—they interact with other queer camps like Beaverton.

VQFF Review: Camp Beaverton

This film by Ana Grillo and Beth Nelsen is one of two documentaries shot at last year’s Burning Man and featured at the Queer Film Festival. Camp Beaverton, a.k.a the Home for Wayward Girls, is an all-women, trans-inclusive, sex-positive camp founded a few years ago by—somewhat ironically—a straight couple, who realised there was a need for queer women to connect.

The directors (who occasionally turn the camera on themselves) are frank in admitting that they didn’t know too much about the camp coming in, expecting mostly a lot of sex and drugs. And yes, there’s a fair bit of hooking up, even if you don’t count the “Strapon-athon” and other semi-private sex events, but there’s a lot more to it than that. The camp serves the community by giving workshops on safe sex and communication skills (which I believe welcome men as well); the women there are a very diverse and welcoming group who respect each other’s identities and experiences, always mindful of boundaries and consent; they have built a space where any woman can feel safe to relax and unwind, one that successfully combines sexuality with a sense of the sacred. It’s a little lesbian-feminist utopia right there in the Arizona desert, and when it ends every year, participants can bring a little of it back home with them.

I’ve never been to Burning Man, let alone Camp Beaverton, but I think I got a small taste of what it would be like. For one thing, the documentary gave me a great feel for the place, both emotionally and in the nitty-gritty details. For another, I was one of maybe 5 men in the entire audience. I’ve hardly ever been in a mostly-female space before. It’s a different atmosphere, and I liked it. I think more men, queer and straight, should experience that once in a while.

VQFF Review: Bawdy Body Shorts

This show featured a bunch of sexy, weird, or funny shorts. Sometimes all three at the same time! This is a fine counterpoint to Lot in Sodom, and I can’t help wondering what people will think at VQFF’s 125^th anniversary when they watch these shorts again.

In Bang Bang, Mihee Nathalie Lemoine recounts her abuse at the hands of a racist teacher. Short, raw and personal.

In the deliriously WTF MeTube a chubby man sings from Carmen’s Habanera aria, while his kitchen turns into into a dance club populated by elderly S/M musicians in latex and ball gags. Hella catchy, though not really sexy unless you’re into that.

In Interchangeable, two women have an awkward moment when they realise they’re both wearing strapons. Equally awkward psychoanalysis and hugging ensue.

In Gingers several redheaded men talk about being ginger, the misconceptions and fetishes, letting the camera explore their bodies. Very fun, and very hot.

In What Makes Us Queer several women talk about what it means to be queer, and how it’s about far more than just sex.

In Law and Order two elderly German gentlemen talk, argue and engage in BDSM play. These two are absolutely adorable, and it’s clear they’ve grown old together and are just totally comfortable with each other. The sex play is not meant to be sexy to the viewers, it’s just… there, just a thing they like to do, another part of their life together.

In Audrey’s Beard, a butch dyke celebrates her facial hair.

Mates and Anchor Anatomic are simple straight-up hot, plotless sex. The former, directed by the same guy who did Gingers (and I think I recognise some of the same actors), is about a few UK lads hooking up after a soccer/football game. In Anchor Anatomic two twinks—one with an anchor tattoo, one with an anatomically correct heart tattoo—go at it every which way.

In Intersexed, a woman argues with herself after sex. It’s way funnier than it sounds.

In Beast a man explores his lover’s body with his hand. Very cute and sexy.

In Tap Tap Tap a certain US Senator’s wide-stance toilet misadventure is reimagined as an old-school cabaret song and dance number. He still gets arrested at the end, though.