Review: Revisiting those gay high school years with "First Girl I Loved"

Looking back at 2016, which seems odd given that we’re already well into the 2017 film season, there were many films that were overlooked and went under the radar of the mainstream media – or, at least, the documentary-hungry critics’ review list of The New York Times.  Of particular interest to myself – because, let’s face it, I’m me – is the surprising number of queer films that made ripples last year.  Apart from the fantastic triumph that was Moonlight, several other films emerged with less publicity, equal cinematic value, and elements in narrative that, for better or for worse, differentiated them from the cookie-cutter “coming-of-age” story that pities the queer struggle.  Instead, many of these films addressed the queer experience with the respect and nuance that it deserves, and I recently had the privilege to view one of these with a friend.  Premiered at the 2016 Sundance Film Festival, First Girl I Loved is not so much a coming-of-age story as it is a realization of self, a prologue to the long road that queerness takes, complimented by unique imagery that builds the emotional suspense and frustration that coming out of the closet poses to suburban youth.

How do you come out of the closet when everyone else keeps avoiding the conversation?  This is the question that First Girl I Loved poses, and it evades the answer at every turn of its fragmented narration.  The framing scene of this film is when the main character, Anne (Dylan Gelula), comes out to her best friend, Clifton (Mateo Arias).  Unfortunately, Clifton has a crush on Anne, and lashes out in jealousy.  Throughout the rest of the first half of the film, scenes depict Anne falling for her first crush, Sasha (Brianna Hildebrand).  Afterwards, Clifton proceeds to sabotage the budding romance between the other two, but the subsequent doubts between all three of them leads to unexpected and yet wholly predictable consequences for anyone who has watched a gay film before.

Let’s face it, First Girl I Loved is not a triumph of pride.  It is not an answer to “yes, I’m gay, so what now?”  It is the story of a first love, a first romance, with all its budding sweetness and the haze of a dream, but also with all its downfalls, and its ultimate self-destruction.  Immediately after watching this film, my friend looked me in the eye and said, “I had such high hopes for this one.  Why did it have to come to this?”

There is an avoidance of happy endings in queer romance, and it’s clear why.  First Girl I Loved touches on the standard points of most young adult romance films – insecurity, jealousy, the social demons of high school – but it also doesn’t ignore the fact that it is a queer story.  Yes, it might ignore the fact that bisexuality is a thing, but it doesn’t pretend like being queer doesn’t come with its own obstacles.

My immediate argument to this, as a queer person, is that “Yes, we get it.  Being queer is hard, and not always in the fun way.  Can’t we just have a happy story already?”  Because it’s frustrating, honestly.  Since even before Brokeback Mountain, queer characters have never been allowed a happy ending.  Under the Hayes Code, it was illegal to give us happy endings.  A strong argument could be made for Some Like It Hot, but that film is what largely led to the Code to begin with (and such a travesty too, Marilyn).  But don’t lose hope for First Girl I Loved just yet!

Yes, despite the fact that First Girl I Loved falls into this trope – and not exactly smoothly, either – I believe that it’s still worth a watch.  First of all, you have to appreciate its cinema.  Visually, First Girl I Loved is beautiful, merging the glowing neon of dream sequences and the hazy deep focus that all student films love into a style that is simply youth.  It pulls you into the rebellious psychedelic mindset that Anne lives in, and you find yourself feeling the same rush of dumbstruck love that she sees.  Time passes slowly, and yet in the blink of an eye a month has passed, and before you know it they haven’t kissed but maybe they’re about to and maybe they just–

As I’ve mentioned before, the narrative of First Girl I Loved is not anything new.  But it differentiates itself from the rest of its queer company of 2016 by focusing on the story of first love.  Specifically, it focuses on a first love that does not succeed, and this is not a bad thing by any means.  It takes the same elements of insecurity, jealousy, and loneliness that are seen in every straight romance and lets you know that it’s gay.  It allows these complications to come in a twist up the characters as much as the camera does, confusing you and building tension until its final conclusion.

This film also doesn’t stray away from the hard topics.  The nuances of rape culture and sexual assault are placed front and center for a spectacular scene with Arias.  Writer-director Kerem Sanga walks a careful line, and never once is the victim blamed by the system of power at play.  Instead, the assaulter is questioned, questions himself, and the hard questions are asked.  In this way, the film triumphs.

First Girl I Loved also leaves several questions unanswered.  It has a relatively short runtime of only 91 minutes, and given ten more, maybe we could have fleshed out the relationship between Anne and her mother, or between Sasha and her parents.  This is something the movie never truly addresses: the relationship that queer kids have with their parents through the process of coming out.  Perhaps it’s because we don’t truly appreciate that relationship enough, or maybe because the film didn’t want to focus on it, but nevertheless that relationship shouldn’t be removed from the equation.  So much of the anxiety and fear surrounding the culture of coming out is based on familial reaction; let’s face it, we don’t care what our peers think in the long run.  But us queer kids had to live with our families, for better or for worse, the “worse” being not having a family left after the fact.  While this is brushed upon in one scene in the film, I couldn’t help but hope with all my heart that some final confrontation would come about in the end.

Despite the failed romance, and despite the many flaws the film has in expanding as far as it could, we do receive closure.  In the final scene, the wonderful, iconic Cameron Esposito takes the stage, side swept hair and all.  Even if she hadn’t shown up in small scenes throughout the film, it’s hard to be surprised.  (Pals… it’s a film about teenage lesbians.  If not Cameron Esposito, then who?)

This final scene is what pulls First Girl I Loved away from truly being a coming-of-age story.  Anne finally says the words: “I’m gay.”  Exhale.  Sigh of relief.  No credits yet.  Because these words are finally in the open.  Is there a conclusion?  Not exactly; instead, there is the lingering thought of “what now?”  As I mentioned before, First Girl I Loved never answers this question.  Because the only answer that you get when you’re queer is: keep moving on.  Take this moment of realization, and grow from it to love yourself and love the world around you.  In this way, First Girl I Loved is no longer so much a coming-of-age narrative as it is a self-realization and a prologue of the road to come.

Whether you’re queer and out, or queer and closeted, or if you’re not queer at all and just want to watch a gay film (I mean, come on, who doesn’t?), I would recommend watching First Girl I Loved.  Don’t go into it like my friend and I did (we really just wanted to see THE KISS (and were not disappointed until afterwards)), but keep in mind that it is, first and foremost, a first love story.  Let it take you back to high school, and those years of constant insecurity and vulnerability, of finding self, and let it teach you a little more.  As writer-director Kerem Sanga makes sure to remind us, before we can start to grow, we first must know who we are.

Review: "Your Name" finds more balance between Makoto Shinkai's storytelling and his visuals

Despite this film having premiered at the Anime Expo in LA in July 2016, it has only recently started to gain traction with the mainstream American audience with its Oscar-contending December premiere.  I'll admit I hadn't taken notice of the film until around this time, but when I saw that the director was Makoto Shinkai - the showrunner behind previous breathtaking experiences including The Garden of Words and 5 Centimeters Per Second - I knew that I had to watch it.  Then came the problem of, well, actually finding the film to watch it.  Despite Pokemon's claims to the otherwise, anime - similar to many foreign mediums of entertainment - isn't exactly "mainstream" to begin with.  It's by complete chance that I was able to see this film this weekend, but I can say without doubt that the wait was definitely worth it.  For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, take a look at the trailer for Makoto Shinkai's Your Name:

Makoto Shinkai is known for his visuals.  He effortlessly blends hyperrealistic landscapes, backgrounds, and scenery with a distinctly modern anime style that, while occasionally jarring, ultimately makes each of his films look like a painting come to life.  One only has to watch The Garden of Words to know that (the visuals of which are, arguably, the best part of it's 40 minute run time).  This still holds true for his newest film Your Name.  It would be so easy to get lost in Shinkai's films just for the animation alone, and there are several other reviews that will tell you how edible his food always appears on the screen.  It's almost hypnotizing how Shinkai manages to evoke the sense of lighting and motion in his drawings; even more amazing is the sense of complete immersion you feel when watching his work.  (To top it off, Shinkai works as both lead cinematographer, editor, and designer on all of his films, doing a large portion of the animation and keyframes himself.  Does this man ever rest?  Spoilers: he doesn't.)

This is a drawing.  I'm serious.

Time and time again, Shinkai has been compared to legends within the anime film industry, most notably that of Hayao Miyazaki, co-founder of Studio Ghibli and the man behind such masterpieces as Spirited Away and Princess Mononoke.  With the runaway success of Your Name - the film is currently the fourth-highest grossing film of all time in Japan, and the highest-grossing anime film internationally - this comparison has only grown.  Shinkai himself, however, despises these comparisons, going so far as to tell people not to watch the film, as he feels it's incomplete.  But as much as I hate going against an artist's wishes when it comes to their own work, I have to disagree on this one.  While Shinkai is certainly no Miyazaki - not yet, anyway - there is no doubting the immense amount of skill and constant improvement that keeps bringing viewers such as myself back to his work.

Watching Shinkai's work is amazing because of the fact that he keeps improving.  He hasn't plateaued yet, and I don't see it happening anytime soon in the future.  I would go so far as to say to watch the entirety of Shinkai's portfolio just to witness how he's progressed in the past two decades.  His visual talents precede him, coming to life on the screen and ultimately taking you further than most live-action films probably could.  On this level, he truly could be a rival for Miyazaki, a fact made more poignant in that Shinkai has stated he sees the other as a large inspiration on his work.

All image credits to Toho and CoMix Wave Films.

However, Shinkai does have a weakness, and that's in his storytelling.  From the slow pace of 5 Centimeters Per Second, to the bare ripple of the plot of The Garden of Words, Shinkai's narratives often leave more to be desired, puttering along in philosophical ennui and the same melancholy that tends to clutter the young adult genre.  In a way, it's what makes his artwork so striking - more than once it has been the main thing that keeps the film afloat.

This is where Your Name differs, and why I have to urge everyone to watch it.  The plot of this film is spectacular, and for once I almost feel like it leads the film more than the artwork.  Perhaps it's because Shinkai wrote it as a novel first, or maybe it's just because he found a complete story, but whatever the case, the quality of the narrative has increased sharply, and feels completely on par with the actual images I'm watching.

From the get-go, Your Name is the first body-swap story I've seen that doesn't take time for the exploitation of cheap jokes and a plot based on its own awkwardness.  Yes, there is the cute/weird moment that comes with the premise, but it's almost immediately subverted through time jumps that instead build up the suspense.  That's the other thing about this film: the plot reveals itself slowly, building from a simple slice-of-life to a story that is rich, exciting, and ultimately inspiring.  This same plot delivers one of the most surprising - and also completely frustrating, in a good way - plot twists I've seen in a while, and I will admit that I actually screamed when it happened.  Not because it was frightening, but because Shinkai's story had managed to make me so invested in these characters that the emotional buildup just begged to be released.

And what's amazing about having this solid of a story is that it allows Shinkai to take more risks - and consequently, more improvements - with his animation.  There is a beautiful sequence, which includes the above frame - that leads to the buildup of the climax of the movie.  At this point, I promise you, you will be emotionally torn.  The sequence here is a rush of memories and flashbacks that come rushing into the character of Taki, a blur of images that come across as a painting, and leave just as fast.  Watching this, you are left with a sense of wonder and clarity, and for myself, I was struck with just how beautifully it complimented the subject at hand.

Is Your Name a perfect film?  No, if there even is such a thing.  But I do believe that Shinkai is being a little hard on himself by telling people to stop watching it.  Yes, there could be improvements, but there is nothing wrong with the final product as it is.  I can't imagine another storyline for this premise that would have been as both frustrating and satisfying that this film was, and to top it off, it only proves that Shinkai has a lot more in store for us in the future.  I mentioned earlier that this man never stops, and that's true; already, he's started work on his next film.  I look forward to seeing what new art we are given, and how Shinkai will continue to expand his skills in telling an honest, whole story.  And while I'm waiting, I might just go back and relive the captivating experience that is Your Name.

2017 Academy Awards: When will the Oscars make a difference?

Image credit: Robert Deutsch/USA TODAY NETWORK

The night of the 89th Academy Awards began with the expected explosion of color and sound, but the moment Justin Timberlake's "Can't Stop the Feeling" broke down to a bizarrely slow techno remix complete with the half-spoken, half-rapped verse that sounded so much more awkward live, the mood of the night was predetermined.  From then on, I should've seen it coming.  Because the rest of the night continued in the very same, uneven kilter of comedy and emotion that failed to build an impact throughout the ceremony, and leaving us utterly confused - arguably more so than Warren Beatty when he read "Emma Stone" as the winner for Best Picture.

That's right, for those who haven't yet heard, the Oscars just pulled a Steve Harvey.  Somehow allegedly receiving the already-delivered envelope for Best Actress, Hollywood legend Warren Beatty found himself announcing La La Land as the winner of Best Picture, at a complete loss when all he read was "Emma Stone" on the card.  In reality, Moonlight was the winner, proved when La La Land producer Jordan Horowitz held up the winning card to the camera.  And thank the Academy for that!

But before I dive into how the night went, here's a list of all the Oscar winners, just to catch you all up to speed:

Image credit: InSync Plus

Best Picture: Moonlight - Gardner, Adele Romanski, and Jeremy Kleine

Best Actor: Casey Affleck - Manchester By the Sea

Best Actress: Emma Stone - La La Land

Best Director: Damien Chazelle - La La Land

Best Original Screenplay: Manchester by the Sea - Kenneth Lonergan

Best Writing Adapted Screenplay: Moonlight - Berry Jenkins

Best Supporting Actor: Mahershala Ali - Moonlight

Best Supporting Actress: Viola Davis - Fences

Best Original Music Score: La La Land - Justin Hurwitz

Best Original Song: "City of Stars" - La La Land; Justin Hurwitz, Ben Pasek, and Justin Paul

Best Foreign Language Film: The Salesman - Asghar Farhadi

Best Live Action Short Film: Sing - Kristóf Deák

Best Documentary Feature: O.J.: Made in America - Ezra Edelma and Caroline Waterlow

Best Documentary Short Subject: The White Helmets - Orlando von Einsiedel, Joanna Natasegara

Best Animated Feature Film: Zootopia - Byron Howard, Rich Moore, and Clark Spencer

Best Animated Short Film: Piper - Alan Barillaro and Marc Songheimer

Best Cinematography: Linus Sandgren - La La Land

Best Film Editing: John Gilbert - Hacksaw Ridge

Best Visual Effects: The Jungle Book - Robert Legato, Adam Valdez, Andrew R. Jones, Dan Lemmon

Best Production Design: La La Land - David Wasco, Sandy Reynolds-Wasco

Best Sound Editing: Sylvian Bellemare - Arrival

Best Sound Mixing: Hacksaw Ridge - Kevin O'Connell, Andy Wright, Robert Mackenzi, Peter Grace

Best Makeup and Hairstyling: Suicide Squad - Alessandro Bertolazzi, Giorgio Gregorini, Christopher Nelson

Best Costuming: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them - Colleen Atwood

Looking at this lineup, it seems to me that the reorganization of the Academy structure last year contributed to more than just unexpected nominations.  If anything, the results of this year's competition are just as unfocused and unpredictable as the presentation of the ceremony itself.

Or maybe it's a statement on post-modernity and meme culture, as that win for Suicide Squad might suggest.  Either way, let's talk about that.

As Jimmy Kimmel so eloquently put it while introducing Charlize Theron, "Yes, we have a theme, I promise.  It's 'Inspiration'."  But - and stop me if I'm wrong - but.  That seems odd.  Considering that the speech given just thirty seconds earlier by the President of the Academy, Mrs. Cheryl Boone Isaacs, highlighted specifically on the diversity of the nominations and the widening inclusiveness of the Hollywood industry.

Again, stop me if I'm wrong, but between these two themes there is a lot to unpack.  While watching the ceremony, Isaacs' speech is not out of place at all for the mood of the night.  Within the first five minutes of the ceremony, Kimmel, while throwing barbs at the nominees and one 'untalented' Matt Damon, managed to bring the political atmosphere of the country into the spotlight as well.  Leaping off of the inherent racism associated with The Great Wall (while still making fun of Damon, because why wouldn't we?), Kimmel immediately discusses the "225 countries that now hate us" and emphasizes his own message of coming together as a nation despite the atmosphere throughout the country.

It was impossible to separate politics from the presentation at the Academy Awards on Sunday night.  In all honesty, Kimmel should have stuck with it as his theme.  The introduction of "Inspiration" seems to throw it all off, and honestly does not play in his favor.  Immediately I think back to the 2012 Academy Awards, hosted by Billy Crystal - charming, witty, and focusing on the magic of cinema, but so much more organized than this year's show.

If this year's Academy Awards were a direct response to last year's controversy surrounding lack of representation in the nominations - which it definitely was - then it shouldn't have attempted to mask that.  Especially in this time of social unrest throughout our nation, the hidden references to the POTUS and certain legislation came across as almost false.  It was the greatest relief, to me, when Kimmel just kind of said "screw it" and live-tweeted out to Trump for his lack of response.

I say this largely because none of the attendees or presenters pulled any of their punches.  From Giorgio Gregorini's impassioned acceptance speech referencing immigration, to Asghar Farhadi's outright refusal to attend the ceremony due to the controversial "Muslim ban" that is currently alienating our nation; not to mention Gael Garcìa Bernal's direct statement condemning the construction of a wall on the Mexican border.  The only person who seemed to reign himself in was Kimmel himself.

Do I blame him?  Not at all; just one look at the man and he appears as if he hasn't slept for days.  Maybe this contributed to the disorganization throughout the show.  Maybe there was a desire to emulate the fun and random encounters of Ellen DeGeneres' ceremony two years prior.  One thing is for certain: the fragmentation of everything that happened at the Academy Awards on Sunday night could arguably just be a statement on postmodern art.  It really could.  Or it could have just been a mess.

A large part of this is the intersection that we are now starting to realize between the media and the industry.  In decades' past, the Academy Awards played like a high-profile cocktail party.  Formal, respectful, and completely saturated with press attention, but ultimately still familiar.  This is the reason why Beatty found it more amusing than scandalous that he misread the card; meanwhile, social media and the presses went wild.  Award shows such as the Academy Awards and the Grammy Awards are no longer a mere presentation of awards over dinner or - in this case - parachuting pastries.  No, with the presence that the media has built in today's world, these ceremonies have become a platform for social statement and action.

Whether this is a good thing or not, the Academy doesn't seem ready to accept that fact.  Because let's face it: the Academy Awards are meant to be entertaining.  Politics?  Well, sometimes, but also a double-edged sword that invites controversy and anger.  Why would the industry even dare to introduce such topics into the conversation?  And yet, with how our nation is today, even opening the discussion about diversity is a political maneuver.  Despite this, the ceremony refused to acknowledge it, which only contributed to the mess that was Sunday night.

Because there isn't so much that it contributes to discussion, here's a quick list of all the mishaps that occurred on Sunday night: Justin Timberlake's weird techno-rap; Suicide Squad somehow won Best Makeup and Hairstyling (this is literal nonsense, let me tell you); a flag hit Auli'i Cravalho in the head as she performed her song from Moana; a tour bus of random people was driven to the Academy Awards under the guise of a red-carpet dress exhibition; consequently, Denzel Washington officiated a wedding?; Gary from Chicago is probably now a national hero; John Legend sang both of the nominated songs from La La Land despite the fact that Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling were both right there??  And he fell flat on the opening notes??; one of the In Memoriam people is actually still alive, surprise, and; Donald Trump never tweeted back.  Was that everything?  Did I forget something?

Image Credit: Lucy Nicholson/Reuters

OH RIGHT: THEY ANNOUNCED THE WRONG WINNER FOR BEST PICTURE.  Honestly, I don't even know if this moment was staged or not.  If it wasn't, then who was supposed to organize it?!  If it was, then what the hell?!  I don't want to address this too closely, because I've already seen several reviews of the show break this down unfavorably for both sides.  Long story short: Do I think that Moonlight deserved the Oscar?  Yes.  Would I have been upset if La La Land had really won it?  No, because - surprise, hype happens for a reason - La La Land was a good movie.  Was I completely ECSTATIC when Moonlight won?  Yes, I believe there were actual tears involved.

However, I need to give credit to the cast of La La Land, because I've seen too many people say that La La Land deserved to lose "like that".  Did La La Land deserve to lose?  That's up to you all; personally, I think it deserved its nomination, and it deserves the awards it received.  But did it deserve to lose like that?  No.  Never in a million years, no.  Even as a person of color, I don't care about the debate of white washing, nor the arguments of representation; in this context, the award is delivered based on skill and impact. Moonlight won, and the Academy should have allowed it to win without subjecting anyone to a form of public humiliation or by creating a false sense of loss or success.  I've seen people make fun of the La La Land producers and crew for being salty about losing, but really, who wouldn't be?!  They accepted it more graciously than I would have for sure.  Because a moment like that isn't about being a "sore loser".  A moment like that is achieving the highest honor possible - for almost all of those filmmakers, for the first time in their careers - and then realizing it was a sham.  A mistake.  Not to mention that the significance of the achievement of Moonlight has only been lost in the controversy.  A moment like that isn't a loss.  And the fact that it happened in the first place, whether intentional or not, is unacceptable.

I want to end this review on a high note, however, and discuss my favorite part of the evening that I've been avoiding thus far.  Maharshala Ali won Best Supporting Actor, and Viola Davis was the pinnacle of the night with her speech accepting Best Supporting Actress.  I cannot think of any two people more deserving of the awards that they received, and Davis' speech emphasized the reason that I and so many people continue to love film.  Because, despite its many flaws as an industry, and despite the many, many hardships it takes to make the best movies, the stories that we tell through cinema make a difference.  The stories of the people before us make a difference.  The best films do inspire, and they represent us, and they tell not only our stories but the stories that will go down in history and will document the struggles that we've faced.  These stories matter, and they can spur action and change.

Meanwhile, while I look at the current media coverage that continues to debate about the scandal the Oscars have created with their mistakes, and I attempt to break down the reluctance of the Academy to acknowledge its position in the world of Hollywood, I wonder if it can ever say the same.