For pride month, straight critic Ben Miller takes a look back at a gay film he otherwise would have never seen
What is the ideal world we would like to be living in when it comes to understanding and accepting sexuality? How about one of gentle understanding, filled with mutually beneficial grace? Stephen Cone's Princess Cyd might not be outwardly presenting an ideal world of magical realism, but it's one we can at least look to as a beacon of light.
For too long, the world of heteronormativity has actively attempted to suppress and silence the LGBTQ+ community. But, what would happen if not only did the straight world not interfere with queer lives, but actively attempted to cheer them on?
Wouldn't that naturally give way to understanding the belief system of the straight people in your lives? This is a mutually beneficial outcome that would go a long way in improving mental health.
This is by no means the point of Princess Cyd, but it's a feature I couldn't help but notice. The film follows 16-year-old Cyd (Jessie Pinnick), who travels to Chicago to spend the summer with her aunt Miranda (Rebecca Spence). Cyd's easygoing nature initially clashes with Miranda's cultured routine, but the two begin to adopt each other's tendencies, culminating in a gentle synergy.
Cyd begins exploring her sexuality, leading to a romance with barista Katie (Ro White) and an encounter with neighborhood boy Ridley (Matthew Quattrocki). Miranda spends much of her time on academia in her writing, but Cyd notices a flirtation with her friend and colleague Anthony (James Vincent Meredith). As the two enjoy the summer, Cyd and Miranda come to understand each other and how they look for pleasure in their lives.
I love a film that underplays everything it possibly can. If you are looking for some grand action or massive plot turns, this is not that film. Many of the shots are static or feature slow push-ins. Cone and cinematographer Zoe White aren't interested in over-signifying the film for anything other than what it is. More than anything, it's a character study on two people who grow to understand each other while still realizing they have a chance to grow themselves. Things transpire in the film that dictate the character's actions, but there is no massive plot twist or big reveal. Even when big things do happen, they are played so gently, they come across as smaller, and the film is better for it.
Cyd's bisexuality/pansexuality is never judged by any character, adjudicated by herself, or even commented on in the film. She sees Katie, and is attracted. She sees Ridley, and is attracted. Miranda is present for these interactions, but does not push her towards one person with some performative allyship. She just smiles along and talks to Cyd like a human being without motive or intent. Who is she to litigate how Cyd lives her life? It's shockingly understated and human.
While Miranda's acceptance of Cyd's fluid sexuality is certainly out of the ordinary for film characters, so is Miranda's overall characterization. Miranda admits she hasn't had sex in some time, which befuddles Cyd, with her young libido running on all cylinders. In fact, when Cyd offhandedly quips on Miranda's relative abstinence, Miranda quietly explains the pleasure she gets from reading and discussion and going to church. Yes, Miranda is a clearly religious character who never pushes her own belief system onto others. She calmly lays out how it works for her, but that there is no one way to happiness.
I wrote about how Pedro Almodovar is the king of empathy last week, but Cone lays it on as thick as possible without over-emphasizing. Miranda and Cyd might be completely different, but it doesn't make one right and one wrong. They find these little inroads of appreciation and push each other in new and exciting directions. Nothing is dangerous and nothing feels out of character. They just help each other grow to a new version of their core selves. This is the ideal world we should be living in. One without judgement or pressure to conform.
This all works because of both Pinnick and Spence's understated, but exceptional performances. Pinnick embodies Cyd with this inner sadness cloaked in sunny brightness, without the bells and whistles of over-characterization. Spence is nothing but steadfast brilliance, giving Miranda grace while also imbuing the edges with playfulness and a bit of mystery. The two performances drive the film.
Princess Cyd might not feature the most brash of plots and vibrant of performances, but the understated beauty of the world it encompasses might bring a tear to your eye. It's a world I would love to live in.
Next Week: Maximalism meets homoeroticism with Querelle
Previous episodes:
Bad Education
Stranger by the Lake