What did you do Monday evening? Clip your toenails? Change Kitty's litter? Watch paint dry? I envy you!
I went to the University of Maryland to watch the regional debute of a new independent film, "Limits to Ambition," sponsored by the LGBT Studies Program under the leadership of Professor M's class on queer cinema. The evening began in a sparsely filled room in the basement of the main library. There was a side table with light refreshments generously provided for the event. The filmmaker (Associate Professor of writing at the U of M, and in this project Writer, Director, and Lead Actor) was also present. A documentary on the women's music festival scene was quietly playing in the background. All appeared to be set for an interesting experience.
At 7 PM, Prof M introduced filmmaker P and they bantered briefly, pontificating upon the place of this work in the pantheon of Gay Cinema and the filmmaker on his raison d'etre. The answers didn't fit the questions...oh blessed hindsight, forever 20/20 in a 20/200 world!
And then the film began......
There are times in our lives when we are faced with such a sense of disconnect that our senses step back and leave us to fend on some purely feral and visceral plain of existance. It's as if a chair we feel that we securely occupy is unexpectedly tossed backwards, and bracing ourselves for the floor, we are instead greeted by open space. Launched, we find ourselves falling like Alice in the rabbit's hole. It doesn't have to be more than a moment's revelation, yet there we are, beyond where we just were and scrambling to make meaning.
In the company of my host, my ex-, Mr. W., that means humor. Our chemistry drives us to laugh where others might choose to cry or scream. We fall back upon shared memories and clichés which hold a world of meaning and symbolism. To the stranger, we probably look foolish. The code remains ours alone.
At one point I referenced the Dr. Katz episode where Ben is utterly humiliated by his dad at open-mike night and then his date, his father's secretary, comments that watching it was painful, like chewing on a cold sore; the good kind of pain.....
Thus we exchanged emails later that evening as we processed the experience. Here are some excerpts:
MY EX-: i was chompin' on the coldsore so hard, i think i bit a hole in my cheek! LOLLLLLLLLLLLLLL
ME: Okay, it was surreal. It REALLY was like chewing on a cold sore....until I realized that it was all a controlled study arranged by the department of Queer Psychology! I mean, why didn't I see it? It was SO obvious. How could any professor in her right mind, watch that film, and then offer it to others with a straight face (no pun intended) to an academic audience as signifying anything other than pathetic, raw, inane cinema? And to do it with the film maker present? WOW -- What sheer asininity, OR unrepentant "cajones" OR.... ta ta ta! What an ingenious way to research the limits of the GLBT cinematic sensibility! Bravo!
Please tell me I am correct in my insights..... Please restore my faith in the GLBT studies department at the U. of M...... (tongue firmly planted in my cheek)
MY EX-: it got worse--and more complex in its worse-ness! we couldn't help but laugh! i couldn't stay for the questions...OMG
(Regarding comments about the possible aftermath of going)
ME: Au contraire, mon ami. I don't think I am so traumatized that I have to fear Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. I am just flabbergasted that anyone could believe that the reason that they didn't get into ANY gay and lesbian film festivals with this dog was anything other than that it was DOA! How preposterous of the professor to imply otherwise! (an implication made before the screening by Prof. M)
Bottomline: With the right group of friends, with a box or two of wine, with a full moon, with a certitude of eternal life -- you MIGHT just have enough time to waste, an incentive to watch and an ability to get a kick or two out of this film....but then you'd miss the paint drying!
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