By Glenn Dunks
It’s thankfully no longer all that rare to see stories of queer people in rural settings. Especially in documentary. But that doesn’t make it any less special to see their stories—once so often relegated to traumatic narratives centering violence—told by queer filmmakers. Two films in particular at the recently wrapped Tribeca Film Festival examined the changing dynamics of (some) American small-town life. Both take elements of memoir and even non-traditional storytelling to create unique films that make strong arguments for the sheer human decency that many in minority communities desire.
While Bo McGuire’s Socks on Fire and Angelo Madsen Minax’s North by Current tell stories that confront the still very tangible realities of being LGBTQ+ outside of the more accepting big cities, they do so with artistic flair and the confidence that comes from generational change...
McGuire’s film is actually a return venture for Tribeca, having won 2020 Tribeca Grand Jury Prize for Best Documentary. But, hey, can you begrudge them for wanting to relaunch after having screened last year in April at the start of the COVID crisis? The film is quite an announcement for McGuire, a man who seems pre-packaged to be labelled as ‘colorful’. On screen he resembles something of a blend between Dr Jacoby from Twin Peaks’ first two seasons and, oh I don’t know—Seth Rogen? He’s all loud floral shirts, color-tinted sunglasses and trucker hats with a Virginia Slim hanging out of his bearded face. His tone in Socks on Fire is something akin to flamboyant irreverence as he details the prolonged family battle between his southern drag queen Uncle John and homophobic Aunt Sharon that the director once idolised as a nascent queer kid in Alabama.
If the movie is perhaps a little too convoluted for its own good—a local actor and fellow drag queen, Chuck Duck, portrays Sharon in curious little re-enactment sketches throughout, and there are diversions that lead nowhere in particular—then that may ultimately be a part of its charm. It's a little bit like a family reunion where some people are given favor, but nobody (or no ideas) wants to be left out. Many will likely find their engagement with Socks on Fire wavering if they are not tickled by evelling in familial drama. But it is that drama that ultimately gives this debut its core, not just as family tensions boil over, but as unexpected love arises out of prejudice. Misconceptions about its subjects are something that McGuire is clearly intent on confronting and twisting, and with this colorful film he achieves a deceptively sly portrait of southern queer existence.
Meanwhile up in Michigan, transgender director Angelo Madsen Minax returns from New York to the snowy hometown of his Mormon family. Like McGuire in Socks on Fire, Minax himself is a prominent feature of North by Current though he sits somewhat outside of its more prominent narrative. Minax’s identification as a trans man weighs heavily on the film; it’s unavoidable, really. In one of its hardest moments, the filmmaker is confronted by words both old and new from his loved ones that are shocking in how casually they are uttered. But while there are emotional moments of confrontation and mutual love, the very fact that Minax himself is ultimately not the prime focus of his film or even his family probably says a lot about how far queer stories have come.
Rather, North by Current focuses more closely on Angelo’s sister whose infant daughter died before filming and set in motion a peculiar series of events involving domestic abuse, addiction and legal scandal. Filmed over several years, Minax tells the story of his family in sombre tones but with affection as well as a keen eye to collage and even a slight avant-garde sensibility. The documentary is clued-in to the lived realities of its subjects, lumber factory workers and stay-at-home moms.
North by Current reminded me a lot of Kimberly Reed’s incredible Prodigal Sons. Such intimate documentaries about the trans experience are not as rare as they were when the earlier film arrived in 2008 and so it’s probably unfortunate that Minax’s won’t find similar levels of success. But it would deserve them if it did since it's a sublimely crafted work of personal reflection. Unsurprising given that it comes with the Field of Vision banner.
Elsewhere…
One additional queer title, Ryan White’s Coded uses lovely animations (finally an essential component to a document) to immerse the viewer into the life of illustrator J.C. Leyendecker. He was famed for (and got rich through) his ad campaigns that sold men’s fashions to a male population in need of an idealized form of masculine perfection in the early decades of the 20th century. His drawings were of strong men, with the sort of physical dimensions and facial features that made men as well as women pay attention.
Coded elegantly shows how Leyendecker inadvertently snuck homoerotic imagery into mainstream American culture; less scandalous all-American versions of Tom of Finland if you will. It most prominently tells of his 50-year relationship with model Charles Beach, aka The Arrow Collar Man. Taking the story to the modern day, White features trans model Jari Jones, whose story and work for Calvin Klein underlines the way queer imagery has been used (whether people knew it or not) for over 100 years.