fantasyland
by
Douglas Messerli
J.
C. Calciano (writer and director) Is It
Just Me? / 2010
First, his hero, the good-looking, if
not terribly handsome, Blaine (Nicholas Downs) seems at sea in the all-gay
community of West Hollywood, in which one has to presume in has selected to
live (one of the problems of Calciano’s film is that, except for Brice’s
“faghag” friend Ronnie [Lynee Chaille] there is not a single heterosexual
figure to be found in this movie). Although he’s, apparently, a successfully
gay columnist for a small gay newspaper, USATogay
(too too cute for my taste), he seems to be a bit shell-shocked by the open
sexual scene in which he finds himself, seemingly wanting a relationship
without any sexual exploration beforehand, or, as if the two weren’t truly
compatible for a serious gay being.
After their second on-line meeting, and
a cyber-sexual encounter, everything seems perfect, and they agree to meet
(actually having met before at a coffee shop without either of them knowing
it). Only problem, Brice discovers after they close off on their chat, is that
the man he’s expecting—a fact Brice has previously known nothing about—is Cameron who has posted his picture (not
Brice’s) to Brice’s own Facebook site. The situation, called “catfishing,” of
luring someone in with fictional information or with a fake picture, is a cruel
reality on both gay and straight dating sites, and is seen as highly disgusting
behavior—particularly when you’re as gullible and trusting as Xander!
Yes, Xander may be a kind of Texan hick
(Jon Voight’s Joe Buck all over again) who wants to believe in the goodness of
everyone he meets, but mightn’t he still, after speaking for long hours with
Brice for two nights, have recognized that Cameron’s was not the same as Brice’s?
Might he not have sensed that the self-assured Cameron, inviting him to visit
the bar where he dances at night, is not a bit like the unsure and constantly
apologetic man on the internet?
Of course, things go from bad to worse,
as Xander, visiting the bar, gets utterly drunk, Brice suffers a near
break-down, and Cameron takes the Texan home—presumably, as Brice, imagines, into
his bed—but actually into the bathroom to help him puke out his guts.
Ah, yes, love wins out—at least for the
moment! If only we could believe that there were real humans inside of these
sexual simpletons to actually experience it.
And
the very idea that Brice has suddenly been offered a job by the Los Angeles Times to write more of his
cynical gay sex columns, transformed this film, for me, into a fantasy beyond
the bounds of human ties—floating the film off into a fairyland space. I guess
I’m just lucky, having had lots of anonymous gay sex and a long romantic love
both.
Los Angeles,
August 30, 2016
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