While Queer Picks at the New York Film Festival Are Slim, They Are Choice

Misericordia

The best queer-themed NYFF Main Slate film, not surprisingly, was from the daring and gifted French auteur Alain Guiraudie, who made one of the best films of the last 20 years, "Stranger By the Lake." Once again he tapped into his neo-Hitchcockian, devilishly satiric style with his latest work "Misericordia."

The plot sees bisexual baker Jérémie (a captivating Félix Kysyl) journey back to his small French hometown to attend the funeral of an older friend, whose widow, Martine (the fabulous Catherine Frot), is happy to host him. This does not sit well with Martine's volatile son, Vincent (Jean-Baptiste Durand), who Jérémie went to school with and seems to have a repressed crush on.

Jérémie, though, has his lustful sights on another past schoolmate, Walter (David Ayala), an overweight recluse. And he must fend off the advances of the horny local priest, Father Philippe (Jacques Develay). When a tragic event occurs, it's Father Philippe who does all he can to save Jérémie, which leads to a ridiculously hilarious bedroom scene.

"Misericordia" is beguilingly queer. Set in a small town where being gay could mean getting shot, Jérémie doesn't seem to worry all that much. And the priest is even more shameless in pursuing his carnal desires. Then there's Vincent's latent gayness, manifesting in his violent fisticuffs with Jérémie.

Guiraudie loves to challenge conventional notions of love, sex, longing, guilt, forgiveness, and shame, and he does so in his own original and bracing manner.

Emilia Pérez

French filmmaker Jacques Audiard's audacious genre-shattering Cannes sensation, "Emilia Pérez" offers us a different kind of cartel leader.

The darkly comedic Spanish language pic is set in Mexico and stars Zoe Saldaña as Rita, a defense attorney who receives an offer she can't refuse (or dares not, anyway) from Manitas Del Monte, a loathsome cartel kingpin. She is to help Manitas transition to becoming a woman (and the titular character), faking his own death so Emilia can emerge. Manitas also insists that their unpredictable wife Jessi (Selena Gomez) and two children now live with her in her Swiss hideaway with the post-transition cover story that she's a newfound cousin. Emilia is hoping for a kind of redemption as she decides to do some good for the people she wronged as Manitas. But the arrival of Jessi spells more trouble than Emilia could ever imagine.

Trans actress Karla Sofía Gascón does a sensational job portraying both Manitas and Emilia. Gomez does terrific work here, proving that "Only Murders in the Building" isn't the only kind of comedy she excels at. But the film belongs to Saldaña, portraying a woman caught in a number of crossroads. She transfixes throughout.

Many films featuring trans actors are about the transitioning. "Emilia Pérez," for dizzyingly zany narrative reasons, does focus on that in its first half but then goes off the rails (in a good way), which is refreshing. We also get a fully-dimensional trans character who must grapple with her horrific past.

Oh, and the film is a musical, with songs composed by the French singer Camille, that borrows from Lars von Trier's "Dancer in the Dark" and Leos Carax's "Annette"

The movie's only real misstep is the ending. The confrontational possibilities were rich, but what we get is a total cop-out.

"Emilia Pérez" is about figuring out who you are and who you want to be. The film is France's International Feature Oscar submission.

Queer

Hot off its Venice Film Festival premiere, "Queer," the hotly anticipated and already-divisive new film by Luca Guadagnino, has moments of magnificence, but never truly comes together the way it should.

Based on the Beat generation novella by William S. Burroughs ("Junkie," "Naked Lunch"), and written in the early '50s but not published until 1985, "Queer" is both mesmerizing and vexing. The script, by "Challengers" scribe Justin Kuritzkes, remains faithful to Burroughs for its first half, until it detours to Ecuador.

Set in Mexico City, "Queer" centers on gay American ex-pat William Lee (Daniel Craig), who spends his time excessively drinking, shooting up, and hitting on young men. Lee becomes obsessed with ex-Navy serviceman Eugene Allerton (Drew Starkey), who doesn't seem that interested but gives in to Lee's seduction. Is he queer?

They embark on a wacky trip to Ecuador, where Lee searches for a plant-based psychedelic called yage, which may give him the power of telepathy. The film comes to life thanks to the gifted Lesley Manville having a ball playing a jungle doctor.

The other reason to see "Queer" is Craig, who delivers a fully-committed turn and breaks your heart in the film's final scenes.

The film boasts a mostly straight-identifying cast, as well as screenwriter, which is disappointing, as is the fact that Guadagnino approaches the material in an Italian-Catholic-safe manner. All of the press about daring male-on-male sex scenes is just clickbait – even the one intercourse moment is tame, and undercut by the director.

Elton John: Never Too Late

"I wasn't David. I wasn't Mick. I wasn't a sex symbol."

A major complaint about the entertaining and sometimes affecting new doc, "Elton John: Never Too Late," co-directed by R.J. Cutler and David Furnish (Elton's husband), is that it doesn't cover enough ground – that, and two classic Elton songs are not featured, "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road," and "Daniel." The film's main focus is on the Rocketman's career from 1970 to 1976, intercut with his farewell tour in 2022 and culminating in a heartfelt concert at Dodger Stadium – a full-circle moment, since he was the first artist to ever sell out a stadium in the 1970s (Dodger), and L.A. is where his career truly began at the famous Troubadour Club.

A little time is spent on the abusers in his life, from his parents to John Reed, his first love and manager. We also get some insight into how he was a late sexual bloomer and led a closeted life until the mid-70s, when a Rolling Stone article outed him as bisexual, which he says hurt his career.

The main issue with the doc is that Dexter Fletcher's electric biopic of Elton, "Rocketman," was far more illuminating. But there is plenty to enjoy, from some wonderful concert performances to an extended sequence involving his friendship with John Lennon, and their performance together at Madison Square Garden.

The most revealing moments are when the singer/songwriter frankly discusses his love for his family and his concerns that he might not be around to see his sons marry.

Viet and Nam

Set in the post 9/11-early 2000s, Trương Minh Quý's "Viet and Nam" is an evocative slow-burn meditation on history, memory, repression, desire, and unanswered questions.

Shot on 16mm and banned in Vietnam, the film centers on the titular characters, Viet (Dao Duy Bao Dinh) and Nam (Pham Thanh Hai), North Vietnamese coal miners who happen to be lovers and share loving moments, despite the fact that Nam is planning on leaving the country for a new life. Meanwhile, Nam's mother is searching for the final resting place of her husband, who died in the "Resistance War Against America."

"Viet and Nam" can be quite frustrating with its arty, murky, opaque style. Critics will probably go apeshit over it. Audiences, not so much. And even the gay scenes weren't so much erotic as impersonal. Still, there was something quite mesmerizing about it.

The Room Next Door

Pedro Almodóvar's queer aesthetic enhances all of his films, even those with no gay themes like "The Room Next Door."

Firstly, he's cast two gay icons as the leads in his first English-language feature.

Julianne Moore is Ingrid, a celebrated author. Tilda Swinton plays former war correspondent Martha. They're estranged friends who reunite when one finds out the other is dying of cancer. Ingrid rushes to Martha's hospital bedside, and the two instantly re-bond. But when Martha asks Ingrid to be in the room next door when Martha takes her own life, Ingrid is left with a grave decision.

Swinton is incredibly raw and authentic. Her Martha is no-nonsense, but Swinton continuously explores her nuances. It's an Oscar-worthy performance. Moore's work is rich and filled with empathy.

"The Room Next Door" is sublime cinema by a filmmaker who brilliantly explores female friendships and continues to create multi-dimensional female characters.

Maria

Angelina Jolie's tantalizing turn as the great soprano Maria Callas is the main reason to see Chilean helmer Pablo Larraín's evocative but chilly film, "Maria." Jolie will, more than likely, snag her third acting Oscar nomination.

Set in Paris in the last week of the Callas's life, the film focuses on the diva's desperate desire for a comeback. Alas, her voice is not what it once was.

The script (by "Spencer" scribe Steven Knight) never ventures far from the surface. But when Jolie is onscreen, especially when she's performing – with vocals by Callas, but interpreted by the actor – the experience is unforgettable.

And, finally, one of the best films of 2024, Sean Baker's "Anora," has the director's queer sensibility all over it, despite the fact that Baker does not identify as queer. My review of "Anora" will publish next week.