Gay Dead Poets Society

Movies: Kill Your Darlings

Kill Your Darlings REALLY wants to be Dead Poets Society. And it falls flat on its face. Taking place in the mid 1940's, Kill Your Darlings is about the early years of the Beat poets. Allen Ginsberg (played wonderfully by Daniel Radcliffe, who is one of the few bright spots in the movie), William S. Burroughs (Ben Foster), Jack Kerouac (Jack Huston), and lesser-known Lucien Carr (Daniel DeHaan, who is the spitting image of a young Leonardo DiCaprio) are all at Columbia University together. Carr plays a Manic Pixie Dream Boy--a pretty, androgynous young man with a taste for rebellion who sucks people into his orbit--who takes Ginsberg under his wing. He invites him to wild parties down in the "queer" boroughs of New York, gets him into all kinds of drugs, and encourages him to destroy property in the quest for creating a new kind of art. Of course, Ginsberg falls in love with Carr.

Carr, meanwhile, has his own monkey on his back: David Kammerer (played by Dexter...I mean, Michael C. Hall). Kammerer was a former teacher and leader of a youth group Carr was in. The older man become obsessed with Carr, and basically stalked him all through the United States.

In Kill Your Darlings, Kammerer and Carr's relationship is portrayed ambiguously. Kammerer writes college papers for Carr, and while Carr obviously has no problem taking advantage of Kammerer's attentions, he seems weary and annoyed by the older man. Later in the movie, it becomes clear that Kammerer is obsessive and predatory. The movie doesn't really come out and say it, but it's pretty clear that the two men had a sexual relationship when Carr was underage. 



All this is leading up to a pretty inevitable conclusion (SPOILERS): After a fight one evening, Carr kills Kammerer. Again, the movie doesn't really take a stand on what actually happened. Did Carr attack Kammerer? Or did Kammerer want to die and ask Carr to kill him? I found this ambiguity misleading and disingenuous. Especially since Ginsberg at one point tries to defend Kammerer saying to Carr: "He loved you. And you loved him once." Um, sorry, but Kammerer was a stalker and a predator. The movie further demonizes Carr by showing (or rather, telling, in a paragraph of text at the end of the film) that Carr portrayed Kammerer as a predatory homosexual in court in an attempt to absolve himself of the murder (although he did spend time in prison). Such a thing was called an "honor slaying" back in the day--essentially, a straight man could kill a gay man and get away with it by saying the gay man tried to attack him.

So, Kill Your Darlings positions itself on the side of Kammerer. It suggests that Carr was a hypocritical and mentally unstable tease who led Kammerer on. Ugh. Although Carr certainly wasn't an angel, and perhaps if all of this took place in a different time, Kammerer's death could have been avoided, the fact remains that Kammerer was a stalker who preyed upon the much younger Carr.

The other plot of Kill Your Darlings is about the beginnings of the Beat movement. The movie fails here, as well. It tries to show the hijinks of Ginsberg, Carr, Kerouac, and Burroughs in a romantic, rebellious light, but the young men just come off as annoying, drugged out, immature little brats. There's one scene where they break into the university library at night and switch out the bibles housed on display in a glass case with "naughty" books like Lady Chatterley's Lover  and Ulysses. Don't get me wrong, I'm all about some college students in the mid 20th century reading some D.H. Lawrence and Henry Miller and discovering sex and all that--but the scene is utterly silly and ridiculous.

Daniel Radcliffe is the saving grace of Kill Your Darlings, playing an introverted and nerdy Ginsberg who is coming to terms with being gay in a society where being gay meant (as we see in the movie), you can basically be murdered and the murderer can get away with it. Radcliffe has been pretty fearless in his choice of roles post-Harry Potter, and Kill Your Darlings is no exception. Watching Ginsberg, seemingly the only kind and gentle person in this film, come of age and discover not just his sexuality, but his literary voice, is the only interesting thing in this overcooked melodrama.

3 out of 5 stars

Difficult Films and What to do with Them

The cycle of movies in America and how we watch them is almost ritualistic. In the summer, we get geared up for a influx of superhero movies, action films, sequels, prequels, and threequels--"popcorn movies", we call them. Meant to be seen on the big screen with a couple of friends and big buckets of the salty stuff. These movies might not be very good, but that's not the point: the point is fun. That, and watching stuff blow up.

And then, around this time of year, we gear up for "Oscar season". Nothing makes a non-cinema buff's ears perk up like the phrases "award winning" and "Oscar-nominated". Even people who don't watch a lot of movies care about the Oscars to a certain extent.

The problem with these Oscar contenders is that they are often difficult, emotionally challenging films. Since they pop up around the dark months of the year, every year, and have the weight of Oscar behind them, moviegoers feel a certain need or obligation to take in a few of them. They're like a big plate of vegetables after a summer of popcorn and twizzlers: noble, good for you, but not so easy to swallow.

After hearing many friends and family draw the line at seeing the film 12 Years a Slave, saying they just don't have the heart for it, I started thinking about difficult films and how different people approach these kinds of movies. The average moviegoer is certainly willing to see some stressful, sad films, but they don't want to suffer needlessly--after all, movies are supposed to be a fun and pleasurable pastime, right?


Partially right, in my opinion. The majority of movies were created to entertain, and that's something I heartily accept--I love a movie that hits the sweet spot of wildly fun and still actually a good, quality film. One that comes to mind is the first Pirates of the Caribbean film (no need to watch the sequels. They are awful). Pirates is a movie I could watch over and over. It's not exactly The Godfather but come on! Jack Sparrow!

On the other hand, there are movies that were created with entertainment not the number one priority. These movies range from artsy for art's sake (Tree of Life) to deep, dark movies that want us, the audience, to feel something. And not necessarily something positive (Brokeback Mountain).

But just because a movie is hard to watch does not mean you should avoid it. Nor should you think it's your noble duty to bravely walk into that theatre and suffer so that you can emerge and say "Man! Slaves/Jews during WWII/gay cowboys had it tough! Wow, I really respect their struggle". This attitude strikes me as "white moviegoers burden": the idea that seeing a movie about the struggles of a less privileged group of people makes you somehow a better person. As a snobby filmgoer myself, I can tell you: it's not simply enduring a hard film that makes you a better, kinder, more empathetic person. But it can help set you on that road.

In addition to entertainment and in addition to art, some films try to be reflective of the human experience. This is a tough line to walk because so many movies that attempt to teach us something fall into the trap of sappiness and easy answers. So many movies try to show the horrors of the human condition with a nice spoonful of sugar to help the medicine go down and although that's the only way some people can stand difficult movies, I can't say that I respect the easy answers and obvious heroes and villains of those movies all that much.

The next time you go to see a sad or difficult movie, instead of gritting your teeth and preparing for the worst, try being vulnerable to the emotions that you will feel. I implore you--go see 12 Years a Slave with a soft and open heart. Let yourself feel the shock of what a slave auction looked like and the sting of humiliation at intelligent humans being treated like cattle. Feeling upset at these images means that you're human. Don't avoid or turn away from those feelings. The heart, like the mind, is something to be exercised.

***

Difficult films are a way to safely explore difficult emotions we'd rather avoid. Here's a beginner's list of movies that are tough to watch, but worth it in the long run.

Schindler's List: Schindler's List is pretty much the grand poobah of depressing movies. Based on the true story of Oskar Schindler, a German factory owner who saved a number of Jewish men, women, and children by hiring them to work in his factory during the height of WWII, Schindler's List is elegantly shot and beautifully acted. But even the gorgeous black and white cinematography doesn't hide the atrocities of Hitler's final solution. This masterpiece, directed by Steven Spielberg, is sometimes shown to students in high school. If you haven't seen it, set aside a few hours to watch it soon.

Boys Don't Cry: Hilary Swank's star-making role as a transgender man, Brandon Teena, is the main reason to watch this heart-breaking movie. Brandon, born a female but living and passing as a man, heads to Nebraska for a fresh start. But after his secret is discovered by a violent group of local men, things get ugly. Something unique about this film is that Brandon is far from a perfect person--he is actually a small-time criminal and he lies to those he purports to care about. Boys Don't Cry shows that even an imperfect person can be the victim of a hate crime.

Before Stonewall, After Stonewall, and We Were Here: These three documentaries about the gay rights movement in the United States are fascinating and will have you blubbering like a baby. Before Stonewall chronicles homosexuality in America before the Stonewall riots in 1969. Highlights include senior citizens talking about the lengths they went to hide their same-sex relationships and the formation of the Mattachine Society (one of the first homosexual organizations in the U.S.). After Stonewall covers the actual events of the Stonewall Riots and the groundswell of the gay rights movement in the late 1960's and 1970's. After Stonewall and We Were Here both focus on the early years of AIDS. We Were Here especially captures the terror of the emergence of a disease that no one knew anything about. If you want to learn about gay rights in the United States, skip Philadelphia and Milk and let those who saw it first-hand speak for themselves in these excellent documentaries.

12 Years a Slave: Yes, I know I went on about this one in this blog entry, but seriously, this may be the best film about American slavery...ever. It's as beautiful as it is brutal, and Chiwetel Ejiofor's performance as Solomon Northup will haunt you. If you truly think you can't handle watching the movie, at least take a look at Northup's memoir, which the film is based on. In print, the story is *slightly* easier to endure and it's available for free online.

4 Months, 3 Weeks, and 2 Days: In 1980's Romania, abortion is a crime punishable by death. A young woman turns to a friend to help her arrange an illegal abortion and the two women go through hell to terminate the pregnancy. In addition to showing the horrors that can arise from a culture that opposes a woman's right to birth control and reproductive choice, this film is also a commentary on dictatorship and how the most vulnerable in society are affected by such a regime.

Winter's Bone: Before she was the Girl on Fire, Jennifer Lawrence was in this suspenseful film about poverty and crime in backwoods Missouri. After her drug-dealing father skips town before his trial, Ree Dolly (Lawrence) decides to track him down so her family doesn't lose their home. Finding her father is harder than Ree prepares for since her neighbors and his drug addict associates aren't giving her any information. Winter's Bone portrays poverty and drug addiction in a straightforward, non-melodramatic way and shows the dark side of a close-knit rural community.