Knight at the Movies ARCHIVES
Boys Keep Swinging:
Eating Out, The Game of Their Lives
4-20-05 Knight at the Movies column
By Richard Knight, Jr.
“Queer Cinema Is Back” trumpets the current issue of the Advocate while the straight stars of Eating Out, Ryan
Carnes, Scott Lunsford and its openly gay co-star, Jim Verraros pose fetchingly on the cover. According to the
article, the initial blitz of gay themed movies in the early 90s that “electrified” independent cinema and gave the
genre its name quickly petered out and is now back in a big way. Huh. I think that’s going to come as a surprise to
a lot of gay filmmakers, fans of the genre and certainly this writer. Based on the evidence from the last year alone,
queer cinema hasn’t been exactly moribund. Even discounting the myriad of excellent international additions to the
queer canon of late – Walk on Water, Bear Cub, and My Mother Likes Women – to name three, there’s been a
slew of alternately wonderful, funny and thought provoking home grown gay films recently – Brother to Brother,
Tarnation, Die Mommie Die! – to name some highlights.
Reading beneath the article’s premise, however, it seems that what the Advocate is really happy about is the
return of what I like to think of as West Hollywood Queer movies, a genre within a genre. These films – which
include Latter Days, Trick, Billy’s Hollywood Screen Kiss, It’s My Party, and The Broken Hearts Club – are located
in southern California’s gay central – either geographically or through their mindset. Most of them star superbly
proportioned white men in the leads usually played by slumming straight “gay for pay” actors like Dean Cain, Billy
Campbell, Eric Roberts, and, um, Sean Hayes. Often the characters have wacky fag hag gal pals and token ethnic
best friends who provide nice subplot material and surround the star with sage advice and comfort as needed.
Now I’m not against these movies – far from it – and I am, after all, a gay white male myself (though not quite so
superbly proportioned). But I think to label Eating Out the first in a new wave of gay cinematic milestones is to
mislead audiences. And it’s certainly not something that this little wisp of a comedy should have to shoulder.
It’s an audience pleaser, pure and simple – a diverting little comedy that’s as sexy as hell. Eating Out doesn’t
pretend to be anything more than that and that’s certainly how I took it after originally screening it last fall when it
was part of Chicago's Reeling festival line up. The gay homage sex La Ronde to all those 80s college sex flicks that
provided the inspiration for writer-director Q. Allan Brocka I’d forgotten. The multiple scenes that featured stars
sans shirts and especially the three way phone sex scene I remembered. You will, too.
What I’d also forgotten was the terrific, sweet presence of Lunsford in the leading role of Caleb (in his first
movie), who plays gay in order to get the girl. What will be sexy for gay audiences, of course, is that Caleb is
willing to go to incredible lengths (oh those lusty college kids) to get Gwen, (the girl in question), into bed. That
includes a big ole wet sloppy kiss with her gay roommate Marc (Carnes) for starters, the very hot three way phone
sex scene to up the ante and finally the full tilt boogie (though you’ll have to see the picture to know who finally
partners with whom). Oh and did I mention full frontal male nudity to boot? That’s also going to be, apparently, a
big part of the new wave of new queer cinema pictures – and this you won’t hear me complaining about.
The plot complications are actually set into motion by Caleb’s roommate, Kyle, who is played by former “American
Idol” contestant Verraros. The openly gay belter is given the thankless role of the supposedly unattractive, bitter
roommate who can’t get a guy but has perfectly coifed, highlighted hair, flawless skin and anywhere but in West
Hollywood, seemingly, a perfectly acceptable physique. Verraros does an admirable job (not surprising after
surviving the poison darts of Idol judge meanie Simon Cowell whose entire persona, unknown to him, seems to
have been welded from equal parts Addison DeWitt, Waldo Lydecker and Rex Reed). Unfortunately, Verraros’
character is saddled with Brocka’s made up gay speak. Brocka, apparently, after seeing Heathers for the 20th
time, decided to invent his own lingo for Kyle and some of the other characters to spew. Fortunately as the movie
progresses, this unfunny shorthand sitcom dialogue disappears.
Emily Stiles as Gwen, with her Lisa Simpson voice, is a pistol who makes no bones about her sexual tic of frankly
being turned on by turning on gay men but a little of her goes a long way (and her in your face aggression was the
opposite of seductive for me). Carnes, who recently played Lawnboy #2 (the gay one) in “Desperate
Housewives,” does an amiable job – though the idea that he’s a classical pianist is laughable (as are the scenes in
which he’s supposedly playing). The picture starts off high, however, thanks to a funny scene between Caleb and
Tiffani (Rebekah Kochan), who gets heated up by a rape fantasy. But sweet little Caleb is just too “family fun” and
Tiffani, a hot little tart, who looks and acts like a younger Jennifer Coolidge, soon sends him packing.
Brocka describes Eating Out as something he wrote on a lark that he never expected to film, a little throwaway.
Without his gifted and very hot cast that’s exactly where I’d put this movie. With them, I’m happy to be back for
seconds.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Wes Bentley made a smashing debut in American Beauty but has not found another role that has helped him to
connect with audiences (nor for that matter has the movie’s star Kevin Spacey). He returns to form, somewhat, in
The Games of Their Lives, the true story of America’s surprise win of the soccer World Cup in 1951.
Surprising because this team was quickly assembled and didn’t have much practice time before going up against
countries where soccer had been an institution for decades.
If you like sports films in general, ones that chronicle teams beating the odds in particular, clean cut white college
boys in suits and ties one minute, soccer shorts the next, this small little picture will be to your taste. Patrick
Stewart as the narrator, Steppenwolf’s Terry Kinney as the reporter (and younger version of Stewart) and John
Rhys-Davies, looking frail and almost unrecognizable out of his Lord of the Rings dwarf drag (though that voice is
unique) as the veddy proper soccer coach, add weight to the supporting cast of gazelle like young actors headed by
Bentley.
Eating Out, The Game of Their Lives
4-20-05 Knight at the Movies column
By Richard Knight, Jr.
“Queer Cinema Is Back” trumpets the current issue of the Advocate while the straight stars of Eating Out, Ryan
Carnes, Scott Lunsford and its openly gay co-star, Jim Verraros pose fetchingly on the cover. According to the
article, the initial blitz of gay themed movies in the early 90s that “electrified” independent cinema and gave the
genre its name quickly petered out and is now back in a big way. Huh. I think that’s going to come as a surprise to
a lot of gay filmmakers, fans of the genre and certainly this writer. Based on the evidence from the last year alone,
queer cinema hasn’t been exactly moribund. Even discounting the myriad of excellent international additions to the
queer canon of late – Walk on Water, Bear Cub, and My Mother Likes Women – to name three, there’s been a
slew of alternately wonderful, funny and thought provoking home grown gay films recently – Brother to Brother,
Tarnation, Die Mommie Die! – to name some highlights.
Reading beneath the article’s premise, however, it seems that what the Advocate is really happy about is the
return of what I like to think of as West Hollywood Queer movies, a genre within a genre. These films – which
include Latter Days, Trick, Billy’s Hollywood Screen Kiss, It’s My Party, and The Broken Hearts Club – are located
in southern California’s gay central – either geographically or through their mindset. Most of them star superbly
proportioned white men in the leads usually played by slumming straight “gay for pay” actors like Dean Cain, Billy
Campbell, Eric Roberts, and, um, Sean Hayes. Often the characters have wacky fag hag gal pals and token ethnic
best friends who provide nice subplot material and surround the star with sage advice and comfort as needed.
Now I’m not against these movies – far from it – and I am, after all, a gay white male myself (though not quite so
superbly proportioned). But I think to label Eating Out the first in a new wave of gay cinematic milestones is to
mislead audiences. And it’s certainly not something that this little wisp of a comedy should have to shoulder.
It’s an audience pleaser, pure and simple – a diverting little comedy that’s as sexy as hell. Eating Out doesn’t
pretend to be anything more than that and that’s certainly how I took it after originally screening it last fall when it
was part of Chicago's Reeling festival line up. The gay homage sex La Ronde to all those 80s college sex flicks that
provided the inspiration for writer-director Q. Allan Brocka I’d forgotten. The multiple scenes that featured stars
sans shirts and especially the three way phone sex scene I remembered. You will, too.
What I’d also forgotten was the terrific, sweet presence of Lunsford in the leading role of Caleb (in his first
movie), who plays gay in order to get the girl. What will be sexy for gay audiences, of course, is that Caleb is
willing to go to incredible lengths (oh those lusty college kids) to get Gwen, (the girl in question), into bed. That
includes a big ole wet sloppy kiss with her gay roommate Marc (Carnes) for starters, the very hot three way phone
sex scene to up the ante and finally the full tilt boogie (though you’ll have to see the picture to know who finally
partners with whom). Oh and did I mention full frontal male nudity to boot? That’s also going to be, apparently, a
big part of the new wave of new queer cinema pictures – and this you won’t hear me complaining about.
The plot complications are actually set into motion by Caleb’s roommate, Kyle, who is played by former “American
Idol” contestant Verraros. The openly gay belter is given the thankless role of the supposedly unattractive, bitter
roommate who can’t get a guy but has perfectly coifed, highlighted hair, flawless skin and anywhere but in West
Hollywood, seemingly, a perfectly acceptable physique. Verraros does an admirable job (not surprising after
surviving the poison darts of Idol judge meanie Simon Cowell whose entire persona, unknown to him, seems to
have been welded from equal parts Addison DeWitt, Waldo Lydecker and Rex Reed). Unfortunately, Verraros’
character is saddled with Brocka’s made up gay speak. Brocka, apparently, after seeing Heathers for the 20th
time, decided to invent his own lingo for Kyle and some of the other characters to spew. Fortunately as the movie
progresses, this unfunny shorthand sitcom dialogue disappears.
Emily Stiles as Gwen, with her Lisa Simpson voice, is a pistol who makes no bones about her sexual tic of frankly
being turned on by turning on gay men but a little of her goes a long way (and her in your face aggression was the
opposite of seductive for me). Carnes, who recently played Lawnboy #2 (the gay one) in “Desperate
Housewives,” does an amiable job – though the idea that he’s a classical pianist is laughable (as are the scenes in
which he’s supposedly playing). The picture starts off high, however, thanks to a funny scene between Caleb and
Tiffani (Rebekah Kochan), who gets heated up by a rape fantasy. But sweet little Caleb is just too “family fun” and
Tiffani, a hot little tart, who looks and acts like a younger Jennifer Coolidge, soon sends him packing.
Brocka describes Eating Out as something he wrote on a lark that he never expected to film, a little throwaway.
Without his gifted and very hot cast that’s exactly where I’d put this movie. With them, I’m happy to be back for
seconds.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Wes Bentley made a smashing debut in American Beauty but has not found another role that has helped him to
connect with audiences (nor for that matter has the movie’s star Kevin Spacey). He returns to form, somewhat, in
The Games of Their Lives, the true story of America’s surprise win of the soccer World Cup in 1951.
Surprising because this team was quickly assembled and didn’t have much practice time before going up against
countries where soccer had been an institution for decades.
If you like sports films in general, ones that chronicle teams beating the odds in particular, clean cut white college
boys in suits and ties one minute, soccer shorts the next, this small little picture will be to your taste. Patrick
Stewart as the narrator, Steppenwolf’s Terry Kinney as the reporter (and younger version of Stewart) and John
Rhys-Davies, looking frail and almost unrecognizable out of his Lord of the Rings dwarf drag (though that voice is
unique) as the veddy proper soccer coach, add weight to the supporting cast of gazelle like young actors headed by
Bentley.
Let Me Hear Your Bodies Talk
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