“You never saw Se7en?” I asked my uncle. I was visiting to vote. Guy considers himself a movie buff. Got the Firestick and everything. Showed me some shit called The Purge: Election Year. Not traditionally my bag but fine for what it was.
He had not seen Se7en.
Truth was, I had only seen it once myself, that very first time in the movie theater.
And as I watched it again, this time with him, I was a little surprised because normally, if I like a flick, I watch it compulsively.
Like, the first time I saw Don’t Be a Menace to South Central... I was high so I watched it again literally 2 minutes later.
Se7en I’d avoided. It was too creepy.
But the cast?
Brad Pitt and Kevin Spacey both at the 90s top of their games, Gwyneth Paltrow while she was still Brad’s girlfriend, and Morgan Freeman in a turn even better than his Million Dollar Baby Oscar winner.
Hell, it had Richard Roundtree in it.
Gwyneth’s even playing Marvin Gaye’s “Trouble Man” the first time Morgan comes to visit.
But I’m a comedies guy and the first time I saw that ending was all I’d needed to see.
Similarly, I don’t think I’ll be seeing Moonlight anytime again soon if only because I found it disturbing as well, but in an entirely different light.
The male love story I can dig because I love all my male friends.
The male homosexual love story I can rock with too, saw it in Brokeback, didn’t really faze me.
But the one part of Moonlight that left me totally unprepared exposes a homophobia in me that I would have denied like President-elect Trump denies half the shit he says after the fact.
And that’s the thing; I don’t think I’m homophobic.
I love cock!
I can tell you who has my favorite dick in porn.
My inner-fag and me are tight and I hafta keep that homo in check or he might wind up at a bar one night giving a “Hey sailor…:” to some good looking stud.
But this me we’re talking about so I can allow for all of that type bullshit.
No, what disturbed me about Moonlight, which was absolutely superbly acted and cast by the way – if Trevante Rhodes for his turn as “Black” and Mahershala Ali for his turn as “Juan” don’t at least receive Oscar noms, #OscarSoWhite has to become #FuckOscarNight (the screenplay is sick too) – is that before, I’d still been safely able to categorize my fags as “them”.
And “they” were over “there”.
That’s what’s unsettling to me and is bound to unsettle a few people about Mr. Rhodes’ performance in particular.
Not only is Rhodes great-looking, he’s cock-diesel, hard, street, and rocks gold fronts.
This guy radiates raw sexuality, the type we project to be the epitome of Black male hyper-heterosexuality and his screen time is so edgy that we’re never sure if he’s gonna kiss somebody or lay them out as he did in an earlier, younger depiction by Ashton Sanders.
And I know this exposes me as a bigot.
Freud would probably also say that Mr. Rhodes’ performance turned me on (thank God Freud’s dead).
But now I must admit that I can understand how Black people that don’t conform to what’s expected of them – maybe they’re educated, intelligent and hardworking – or women that don’t conform – maybe they wanna run for president – can leave non-Blacks and men feeling similarly disturbed.
And it sucks that the disturbed are now my group, but whoever accepts the challenge to change?