More Than Friends

This holiday season has just begun and it already has me teary-eyed at the thought of a friend and how much friendships mean to me.

This is partly due to the deaths of several precious friends whom I miss terribly right about now, and not only because they are no longer around to complain to about the holidays this year.

I promise the whole post will not be like this! I swear!

It is also due to a pair of screen stories I’ve seen in the last week where the friend in the story touched me deeply and, well, meant everything.

The first is the uncluttered, focused honesty of Jodie Foster as Bonnie Stoll, “best friend” to iconic marathon swimming champion Diana Nyad in the just released Netflix biopic, Nyad.

Fierce

Annette Bening is more than convincing in the title role (Note: She brutally trained a full year as a swimmer and it shows) but it is Foster’s performance that gives the film its true heart and meaning.

Nyad is the star (Note: In this case, athlete), a difficult, unsentimental and tunnel-visioned success story that makes the headlines and gets the lion share of the credit.  Yet what we get to see in this movie is just how much her best friend and briefly former “girlfriend” enabled the impossibly obstinate Nyad to live the kind of life she longed for both professionally and personally.

As her coach and closest confidante for decades, it is Bonnie’s loving, no-fuss determined dedication that allows Nyad, then in her early sixties, to actually fulfill her lifelong dream to become the first person in the world to swim from Cuba to Florida.

Cuz ya gotta have friends!

This, of course, makes it sound like a typical inspiration sports film and, in some ways, it is.  Except, by the end, when it isn’t that at all.

See, at most Nyad is a well-structured, competent sports drama that hits the requisite beats one would expect.

But what makes it truly worth watching is the often-unexplored relationship between two people, in this case two gay women, who briefly dated years ago and have now become family.   

Not just a Vin Diesel catchphrase

They introduce themselves to others as mere best friends, a phrase that means quite a bit on its own but is woefully lacking when it comes to these two.   And yet this is true and has also been said for many close friendships we have all seen over the years and/or perhaps have experienced for ourselves.

Still, without Bonnie there would be no Nyad and without Diana Nyad there would be no way Bonnie would likely have ever experienced the adventurous highs and intense emotional peaks and even valleys that gave her life meaning and made her feel most alive.

It’s not the typical paradigm of athlete-trainer, mentor-star. It is the unnaturally natural connection of two people that society still doesn’t have the proper term for that is the real story, the one that provides this film its principle drive and certainly that which gives it its primary power.

To better storytelling!

Not surprisingly, it is the relationship between two gay men over thirty plus years in the Showtime limited series, Fellow Travelers, that also touches me so deep to my core that at times I need to either look away, put it on pause to do some laundry or simply stick it out and let the feelings unshake memories I’ve chosen to keep pretty deeply buried for fear of the pain they would unleash (Note: Except, of course, with a therapist present).

Based on the best-selling novel, the eight, hour-long episodes of Fellow Travelers (Note: At this writing just the first five have aired) expands the scope of the fictional Hawk and Tim (aka Skippy) “love” story beyond the lavender scare of the 1950s, when gay people in Washington, D.C. were hunted down, outed and, in turn, had their lives destroyed, through the gay liberation of the late 1960s and 1970s and well into the AIDS-era death march radicalism of the mid-1980s.

See I promised you I’d watch it!

In so many ways the slightly older, certainly more experienced and handsomely sophisticated Hawk is the love of his younger, at one time lover Tim’s life.  Nevertheless, what they have is not so much a messy, decades-long, on and off again affair, but an epic, non-traditional, boundary-crossing friendship that explodes far beyond the limitations of romance.

Again, it seems to sell their relationship short to call it a mere friendship but it also sells it even shorter to classify it as a long-term functionally dysfunctional tragic love story.  Instead, what they have is a messy, magnetic, invisible to the naked eye connection that seems to have no restrictions and yet far too many limits. 

It’s more than just this

In that way, Fellow Travelers succeeds not so much as a historical chronicle of gay history and the gay people that lived it (Note: Though it has its moments) but as the uncomfortable, deeply human representation of how much and how little two people can bring to each other despite, or because, of how much they feel.

This is in no small part due to the on-screen chemistry between out actors Matt Bomer (Hawk) and Jonathan Bailey (Tim).  No, you don’t have to be gay in real life to play gay men over these four key decades but, my gosh, it helps. This is especially the case when it comes to the frankly provocative and always quite truthful sex scenes.  Not to mention what is not said in the moments right before and right after.

Full confession:  I saw so much of my younger self in the naïve, trusting Tim and too much of the impossibly charismatic, seductive Hawk in any number of dear, long gone lovers, crushes and closely observed acquaintances.  This has made me mostly adore the characters, frequently hate their actions and yet allowed me to always deeply understand how they do so much that is right and just as much that is always and utterly just so hopelessly wrong. 

The show is definitely pulling me in

It’s a relationship that creates its own rules and then defies them.  So much more than friends, and yet, they sometimes don’t even seem to be that.  Certainly, they are not the equivalent of any long-term married or unmarried couple we’ve ever seen. 

But what they are to me, and I suspect many others, is a touchstone to every wrong move we’ve ever made, every right move that didn’t work out and every random act any of us ever took that provided an unexpected, perfect outcome we could never have anticipated.

In short, a couple that you can’t help but feel, in more ways than you can count.

Friends – Bette Midler

Conduct Becoming

I spent my birthday this weekend with Bradley Cooper and it was more than I could have hoped for. 

Oooo Chairy, tell me more

He spoke after the screening of Maestro, a film he directed, co-wrote and stars in which I will happily tell everyone is original, riveting and at times even brilliant.

There, I said, it – the B word.  It no longer means Bradley or Bernstein.  And it’s not a word that I throw around lightly or, really, very much at all.

Brilliant literally means radiant, excellent or intelligent and the film is alternately all of those three, sometimes even at once.

You may quote me.

Moira gets it

Maestro is a sort of biopic of famed conductor, composer, musician and teacher Leonard Bernstein, told through the lens of his long and complicated marriage to actress Felicia Montealegre.  It was a marriage of two people who were turned on by creativity and creativity energy, which are not necessarily the same thing. 

To say the pair loved each other would not be an over-exaggeration.  But, as the movie so ably demonstrates, the dynamism of people like Bernstein, whose personalities and creativity and egos burn so bright on everything and everyone they touch becomes crushing, to both themselves and the people around them. 

The real Mr. and Mrs. Bernstein

Somewhere down the line, in a partnership or a marriage, the latter being the ultimate partnership, someone cedes center stage publicly and privately and, in this case, it was the unique and charismatic Ms. Montealegre.  

Until it wasn’t.

I’m listening…

The strength of the film is that as riveting as the unexpected magical realism of the first half is – aka the rise of Bernstein the show biz “star” and the his courtship of love and life – it’s the second half that gives the movie it’s weight.  That happens because of the storytelling ability of Cooper and co-writer Josh Singer and the qualities and actions of Ms. Montealegre herself, which are brought sharply into focus by the depth of the performances of Carey Mulligan and Cooper and the dynamic shifts they employ as a flesh and blood, and even occasionally pretentious, couple onscreen.

It’s an unexpected and truly original mix of drama, comedy and subtexts all played out to a series of carefully chosen musical cues of some of the composer’s best-known and perhaps not as well-known music.

Plus.. you know… Mr. Handsome

So much so that once Cooper and his co-writer, Josh Singer, were introduced at the Writers Guild Theatre for a talk back post-screening, they received a spontaneous and quite unexpected standing ovation.

Side Note:  The Writers Guild Theatre audience is a notoriously TOUGH crowd.  I’ve been going to these screening for years and there is seldom, if ever, a standing O.  As the recent WGA strike demonstrated, scribes DO NOT give it up for just anyone or anything.  Nor are we a crowd of star f-ckers.   As a group, writers are singularly unimpressed with movie stars in person unless it’s one-on-one and we think they might like something we wrote.  But in an en masse group directly after a screening, the work has to really put out, as they say, in order to receive anything more than professional, polite, or even mildly enthusiastic applause. 

We all did our best Meryl

In the case of Maestro, I think it’s the mere risk taking and audacity the film traffics in that the crowd admired.  And once its two writers started answering questions from writer-director/moderator Rian Johnson (Note: Yeah him, you could tell he liked it too), it became apparent why. 

The pair explained they spent almost five years writing the screenplay, immersed in research and determined to dig out some sort of narrative structure to tell a pretty unwieldy story.  They also clocked interminable hours figuring out how to relate the composer’s vast music library to what was going on in the moments of his life they chose to dramatize; or chose to leave out when it wasn’t pertinent.  Until finally, it miraculously became some sort of seamless, inevitable and occasionally tough to take story with a relatable beginning, middle and end.

It takes a room of ink-stained wretches (Note: That would be EVERYONE in the WGA) to know just how nearly impossible it is to get all of the above right on paper, much less in a final edited film.

Watch it Chairy

In fact, at one point Singer, who won an Oscar in 2015 for writing Spotlight, verbalized what was likely on every writer’s mind.   None of that would have been possible were he not co-writing and conceiving all of this with the person who would be directing the script AND starring as the title character.  Or had both Steven Spielberg and Martin Scorsese not been producers.

Nevertheless, the rest of us wretches can still dream, can’t we?

I mean…sure it could happen!

There is one more element to Maestro that allows it to soar in a way that movies during the period Bernstein and his crowd existed in never could. 

His homosexuality — or, I guess, bisexuality.  It’s hard to tell what’s what for men of certain tastes who were young adults in the forties, fifties and early sixties.

Yeah, there have been a lot of films with gay characters in the last thirty years.  But, well, not ALL that many compared to how many stories there are.  The fact that Maestro makes Bernstein’s continuous and clearly insatiable hookups, relationships or whatever you want to call them with men an integral part of the narrative unlocks an essential element of conflict, compromise, respect and more than a little self-loathing from both members of this couple’s perspectives.

And as a bonus one of them is Matt Bomer!

Their keen awareness yet simultaneous lack of self-awareness when it came to themselves and their partnership occurred in a delicate dance of acceptance and denial that a gay person like myself couldn’t help but feel was at the center of so much of this story.  It likely would not have even been possible to have employed it with so much deliberate casualness in a big budget studio feature as recently as, say, 10 years ago.  You’d have seen it but it would have been skewed or soft-pedaled to one side or the other.  As Maestro portrays Bernstein, it was a major moment, or shall we say a major series of moments, of a major life, which had so many more the film chose NOT to go into.

All of which contributed to earning Leonard Bernstein and this re-telling of his life the title of Maestro, and the movie all of the inevitable praise it so richly deserves.

Okay, now cue the detractors – because certainly they are coming too.

And don’t come back!

But whoever they are, and misguided as I might say they will be, watch it yourself, preferably on a big screen, stay with it, and decide on your own.

As we should all be doing about so many things that matter these days.

Candide Overture – Leonard Bernstein conducting