Yeah, I've lost count of how many days I was there. 13, according to the calendar.
Movies:
"Children of Srikandi" - a bold experimental documentary about queer women (lesbian, bisexual, transgender, etc.) in Indonesia. An interesting concept, but poorly executed. Eight different women told eight different stories eight different ways without any sort of explanation of what was going on. It was also scripted. A good documentary, but no "Kuchu."
"Unforgiveable" - a French movie set in Venice about some very tangled relationships between an older man, his younger wife, her ex-girlfriend, and the ex-girlfriend's teenage son. Quirky and fun until the dog gets killed.
"Transgender Tuesdays" - an amateur but well-made documentary about the first public clinic to offer health care and hormones for transgender people. The most enthusiastic audience ever. I think most of them had some connection to the clinic, as it was/is in San Francisco. Lots of good historical background on the trans community as well.
"Wordly Women" - a shorts program featuring lesbian films from all over the world. They were all about sex, or were weird. Or both. I did not feel represented.
"Let My People Go!" - Jewish comedy + French comedy + gay comedy + dysfunctional family comedy = the funniest movie I have ever seen.
"Cloudburst" - an elderly lesbian couple breaks out of a nursing home, aiming for the Canadian border so they can finally get married. A hysterical romp with a bittersweet ending. See, everyone loves crazy old ladies; these ones just happen to be a couple.
Best moment:
I really really wanted a Frameline t-shirt, partly for the memories and partly because the slogan was "Find your story," and I thought that was really appropriate. By the time I actually got around to buying one, though, they were out of smalls and mediums. "Are you a filmmaker?" the woman selling them asked me. I looked down at my camera bag, which I carried with me everywhere.
"Kind of," I answered. "I'm from the University of Wisconsin - Eau Claire..."
The woman thrust a Large t-shirt at me. "Take it," she said. "Don't pay for it. We love you guys, and we really appreciate you coming all the way out here."
So what could I do but take the shirt and thank her as many times as I could?
Pride:
Because this is still a class, our professors told us to think about the concept of power while we were at Pride. I didn't actually make it to the PrideFest, but I was in the Trans March and the Dyke March, and saw the Pride Parade.
The Trans March:
I was shocked at how many people were there. I mean, I care about transpeople, but I didn't realize that so many other people did. And then when the march started, I was completely overwhelmed by the sense of solidarity and activism and pride. It was glorious, even if I did get overstimulated from the crowd.
The Dyke March:
If the Trans March was so wonderful, then the Dyke March should be even better, because these are actually my people, right? No. That was the biggest disappointment the trip. See, I love my gay male friends, and I love my pansexual female friends, but sometimes I feel like I'm the only lesbian in the world. And then when I do encounter lesbians, in books or film or at the Dyke March, I feel no connection. Am I still a lesbian if I don't go to bars and pick up chicks for one-night stands and dance in the street without a shirt? I have not found a single lesbian image that I can connect with, which might be why I sometimes act bisexual; because even though that's not what I identify as, it's who I identify with. Maybe I'm bisexual-sexual.
This is all very confusing.
The Pride March:
In addition to Pride, there is also a group called Gay Shame, and I'm starting to agree with their stance even if I think they really need a new name. OccuPride is another similar group that seems to be doing better, though. Both these groups are against the corporatization of Pride.
Pride disgusts me a little. It's just a big gay block party. And yes, it's great that we can celebrate out identity, and sexuality is inherently sexual, but...let's think about power for a minute. Why do so many corporations have floats in the parade? It's because even though we are a minority and a marginalized population, we have power. Not only buying power ourselves, but we have enough allies that it is for the most part no longer socially acceptable to be a homophobe. It's no coincidence Obama voices support for gay marriage just before election season. He said he supported it the first time he got elected; is he really giving us more than empty words, and are we content to accept them because he says them in his beautiful black Morgan Freeman voice? (I have a joke theory that Morgan Freeman was a catalyst for Obama being elected, because he taught our generation love the sound of a black man's voice).
Now let's go back to gay power. We've come a long way since Stonewall, since reclaiming the streets, since the rage of ACT UP and the AIDS epidemic. It's illegal to kill us and legal for us to have sex, and most of us our content with that. We're complacent. We have some rights, we have our annual party, and we've lost the will to fight for more. We have forgotten that we have power, and we've forgotten how to use it. We used to march for rights, to save our lives and our jobs and our friends, to spur the government to action against AIDS (the political history of AIDS is actually very interesting). Now we march because we can, because we want to get drunk and take our clothes off.
See, what really disgusts me about Pride is not how wildly everyone parties; it's because this is the one time a year people can feel comfortable celebrating being gay, and most of them feel like it is enough. It is because this day manifests 364 days of repression, and what if we could be gay every day? I don't think Pride is enough; I think it's mainstream America trying to appease us. I think it's time we take back our power and use it for marriage reform, immigration reform, global rights, am I forgetting anything? Am I still coherent? I'm not all the way finished with this think, so I might not end up where I intended. I'm not trying to say that you should stop your annual party (though personally I'd be happy with that, but I'm not a partier and I try to respect people who are), but I don't think you should be content with that. That party is a symbol of power, and I don't think you should let that power go during the rest of the year.
Showing posts with label Frameline. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Frameline. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
San Francisco: Days 5 - 7
I think I left off at my angstfest. I've roller-coastered up and down a few times since then. I'm not sure where I am right now. I'm taking a lull just to write.
Movies I have seen: "Frauensee," "Beauty," "Call Me Kuchu"
Frauensee: Decent. A lot of German humor. Not much resolution or plot arc. Character relationships were developed enough to keep me interested through the sex scenes (What? Don't you get bored at movies that are just: "Repression, repression, SEX, unhappy ending"?)
Beauty: Brutal and dark. I liked it, but I was in a weird mood that night. I was feeling really happy and so wanted to see something dark. Don't ask me how that works; I just live in my mind, I don't understand it. Some very African cinematography, which, for those who did not have Engelking's AP English class, means that there are a lot of boring shots of nothing. And it was kind of "Repression, SEX, unhappy ending," but all the sex was very non-gratuitous (either ugly or violent or both) and there were some interesting psychological things going on with the main character. Like I said, I liked it, but I feel like a bad person for saying that.
"Call Me Kuchu" - seven-minute standing ovation for the documentary about Ugandan gays; allegedly a Castro record. The main activist, David Kato, was killed while they were filming. And those people are not hiding in closets, they are active, even though they risk their lives. I don't like to toss around the word "inspiring," but - not just from this movie, from everything this course has brought me - I'm starting to feel that I can't just sit still, because these are our people and our rights. It's the same hatred fueling the Anti-Homosexuality Bill in Uganda as the marriage amendment in Minnesota, and we think that we're okay because no one's killing us anymore, but 1) they are, not just globally and not just in the south, I'm talking Trevor Project here, and 2) it's not just going to get better. Yeah, times are changing, but that's because people are fighting, and I don't think a lot of people realize just how hard some of these people fight. I didn't. I think I'm turning into an activist.
Interviews we have done:
Jack Dubowsky, director of "Submerged Queer Spaces," a documentary about places in San Francisco that used to be gay bars; he is also a representative for the Out Twin Cities film festival. A very chill guy, an experienced documentarian, so he knew how to be a good interviewee. He also flirted shamelessly with our sound guy, who is nineteen (not sure how old Jack is, but we're going to estimate 40+). He invited us to a bar, and then got a panicked look on his face when our director said that she was the only one who was of age - to drink, that is.
Jim Farmer, festival director of Out on Film in Atlanta. Apparently Atlanta is a really good place to be gay; like a tiny island oasis in The South. The Atlanta film festival picked up "Hear Me Now," the documentary about the Deaf/Queer community that a group from this class made last year (incidentally, they are also going to New York, Philadelphia, St. Petersburg, and the Czech Republic, if I understand everything correctly). He was a complete Southern gentleman and did not hit on our sound guy.
Mark Freeman, director of "Transgender Tuesdays," a documentary about the first public health clinic to offer sex-change hormones (I'm not sure if that is the most politically correct term; I forget what he used). He went off on some long-winded tangents, but I think we got some great sound bites. I think he mentioned a partner, so he did not overtly hit on our sound guy, but did give him a hug.
Yes, it does bother me a little that all our interviewees are white gay men. We tried to get the women who directed "Call Me Kuchu," but though they were interested (which is honor enough for me), they were also really busy and we couldn't get any scheduled that worked for both of us. Our director also scored Susan Stryker, who is some kind of transgender feminist goddess, but she cancelled on us last minute. So we're stuck with the white gay guys, who are still interesting.
Touristy stuff I have done:
Um. I've been around the Castro and the Haight. Seen a lot of naked people. Mosly ugly old naked men; apparently nudity is legal here, but not regulated. I've eaten sushi twice. I found the best cookie store ever, which also happens to sell underwear. Went into some pipe stores with other people - I don't smoke, but I can admire the glasswork. Oh, and I found a store that sells nothing but yarn, floor to ceiling, wall to wall, in every different material and color you can imagine. I got some greenish-bluish stuff that was made from seaweed, apparently. Honestly, I kind of want to move here just for the yarn. I think I've pretty much settled on Monterey for grad school. After that...well, we'll see.
I do know that I will never move to San Francisco. Oh, I love it here, it's like a gay paradise. But it's an island. It's not the real world. It's a pilgrimage site, where you see what can be, and then you take that back to freaking Eau Claire, Wisconsin, and Minnesota with its stupid marriage amendment, because I don't feel comfortable being in a place that's just okay anymore. We need to spread the freaking love.
Movies I have seen: "Frauensee," "Beauty," "Call Me Kuchu"
Frauensee: Decent. A lot of German humor. Not much resolution or plot arc. Character relationships were developed enough to keep me interested through the sex scenes (What? Don't you get bored at movies that are just: "Repression, repression, SEX, unhappy ending"?)
Beauty: Brutal and dark. I liked it, but I was in a weird mood that night. I was feeling really happy and so wanted to see something dark. Don't ask me how that works; I just live in my mind, I don't understand it. Some very African cinematography, which, for those who did not have Engelking's AP English class, means that there are a lot of boring shots of nothing. And it was kind of "Repression, SEX, unhappy ending," but all the sex was very non-gratuitous (either ugly or violent or both) and there were some interesting psychological things going on with the main character. Like I said, I liked it, but I feel like a bad person for saying that.
"Call Me Kuchu" - seven-minute standing ovation for the documentary about Ugandan gays; allegedly a Castro record. The main activist, David Kato, was killed while they were filming. And those people are not hiding in closets, they are active, even though they risk their lives. I don't like to toss around the word "inspiring," but - not just from this movie, from everything this course has brought me - I'm starting to feel that I can't just sit still, because these are our people and our rights. It's the same hatred fueling the Anti-Homosexuality Bill in Uganda as the marriage amendment in Minnesota, and we think that we're okay because no one's killing us anymore, but 1) they are, not just globally and not just in the south, I'm talking Trevor Project here, and 2) it's not just going to get better. Yeah, times are changing, but that's because people are fighting, and I don't think a lot of people realize just how hard some of these people fight. I didn't. I think I'm turning into an activist.
Interviews we have done:
Jack Dubowsky, director of "Submerged Queer Spaces," a documentary about places in San Francisco that used to be gay bars; he is also a representative for the Out Twin Cities film festival. A very chill guy, an experienced documentarian, so he knew how to be a good interviewee. He also flirted shamelessly with our sound guy, who is nineteen (not sure how old Jack is, but we're going to estimate 40+). He invited us to a bar, and then got a panicked look on his face when our director said that she was the only one who was of age - to drink, that is.
Jim Farmer, festival director of Out on Film in Atlanta. Apparently Atlanta is a really good place to be gay; like a tiny island oasis in The South. The Atlanta film festival picked up "Hear Me Now," the documentary about the Deaf/Queer community that a group from this class made last year (incidentally, they are also going to New York, Philadelphia, St. Petersburg, and the Czech Republic, if I understand everything correctly). He was a complete Southern gentleman and did not hit on our sound guy.
Mark Freeman, director of "Transgender Tuesdays," a documentary about the first public health clinic to offer sex-change hormones (I'm not sure if that is the most politically correct term; I forget what he used). He went off on some long-winded tangents, but I think we got some great sound bites. I think he mentioned a partner, so he did not overtly hit on our sound guy, but did give him a hug.
Yes, it does bother me a little that all our interviewees are white gay men. We tried to get the women who directed "Call Me Kuchu," but though they were interested (which is honor enough for me), they were also really busy and we couldn't get any scheduled that worked for both of us. Our director also scored Susan Stryker, who is some kind of transgender feminist goddess, but she cancelled on us last minute. So we're stuck with the white gay guys, who are still interesting.
Touristy stuff I have done:
Um. I've been around the Castro and the Haight. Seen a lot of naked people. Mosly ugly old naked men; apparently nudity is legal here, but not regulated. I've eaten sushi twice. I found the best cookie store ever, which also happens to sell underwear. Went into some pipe stores with other people - I don't smoke, but I can admire the glasswork. Oh, and I found a store that sells nothing but yarn, floor to ceiling, wall to wall, in every different material and color you can imagine. I got some greenish-bluish stuff that was made from seaweed, apparently. Honestly, I kind of want to move here just for the yarn. I think I've pretty much settled on Monterey for grad school. After that...well, we'll see.
I do know that I will never move to San Francisco. Oh, I love it here, it's like a gay paradise. But it's an island. It's not the real world. It's a pilgrimage site, where you see what can be, and then you take that back to freaking Eau Claire, Wisconsin, and Minnesota with its stupid marriage amendment, because I don't feel comfortable being in a place that's just okay anymore. We need to spread the freaking love.
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