For better and for worse, the gay teen thriller Ganymede manages to capture the bleak horror of having to listen to a frothing anti-gay rant from some amped-up street corner preacher, or loud-mouthed bully. The kind of slur-filled noise that transmits fear and hate, and not a hint of Christian love.
Too many queer and questioning teens — like the film’s protagonist, high school wrestler Lee Fletcher IV (Jordan Doww) — are subjected to that barrage every day, at home, at church, at school. Lee’s small-town life is one long sermon on traditional values, ministered by his strict religious parents, and hellfire-spouting church pastor, all of whom are aware that the boy is battling certain so-called demons.
Lee is battling those demons literally, not just internally. In his nightmares, and in his waking life, he’s physically stalked by a hideous, skull-visaged creature that creeps out of his closet, or rises from the shadows in a corner of the room.
Conjured by Lee’s fragile, tortured psyche, the Creature (performed, with the aid of prosthetics and makeup, by Lucas Turner) is his sexual confusion and “reprobate thoughts” given physical shape. And, it seems, the Creature is especially triggered by Lee’s attraction to fellow senior Kyle (Pablo Castelblanco), who is gay and out, and totally into Lee.
Thankfully, Kyle is written with emotional complexity to go along with his crush on the good-looking jock. Portrayed with wit and confidence by Castelblanco, Kyle recognizes that Lee is suffering and confused, and not exactly boyfriend material, but he can’t help falling for the wrestler’s kind soul.
In a sweet heart-to-heart, spoken in Spanish and English, between Kyle and his supportive mom, Kim (Sofia Yepes), he confesses his feelings for Lee. His mom warns him to be careful about this boy.
In a different scene, and for completely different reasons, Lee’s mom, Floy (Robyn Lively), warns her son to be careful about Kyle. The cracked mirror images of maternal concern mark one bright spot of understated storytelling in a film — co-directed by Colby Holt and Sam Probst, from a script by Holt — battling its own demons of overacting and over-the-top psychodrama.
Lee’s parents don’t just preach and lecture about their traditional values. Floy and Big Lee (Joe Chrest) — as in “Bigly,” ha ha — shout and weep over their son like the world has ended, or their kid has died. Floy screams her frustrations into the bathroom mirror. Big Lee breaks down sobbing.
These responses might be psychologically valid in a real-world context, but as depicted here, they just look unhinged. Floy screaming to Lee that Kyle is evil because he flaunts his gayness is both high camp and utter drivel: “He’s a little Flaunt Leroy!” That’s an actual line.
“Mom, stop,” pleads Lee. And, he’s right. Please, stop. But then the family’s church leader, Pastor Royer (David Koechner), also calls Kyle a “little Flaunt Leroy.” That’s before the preacher whips out his makeshift electroshock machine for some unsanctioned conversion therapy.
Yet, conversion therapy, and attempts to pray away the gay, only leave Lee even more disturbed, and vulnerable to attack by his demons. Hence, Lee is constantly being scared awake by supposedly frightening, usually imaginary, brushes with the Creature.
He’s holding hands with Kyle, but suddenly, it isn’t Kyle, it’s a demon. Cut to, Lee waking up screaming. A girl at school plays footsie with Lee under the cafeteria table, but it isn’t a girl’s foot, it’s a demon! Lee screams.
Again and again, the film goes back to the same underwhelming well of scream cuts, stirring in blood and body horror, but never evoking the terror that truly grips Lee: his fear of himself.
Ganymede (★★☆☆☆) is available to streamon cable and digital VOD, including Apple TV, Fandango at Home, and Prime Video.
The city that never sleeps comes slamming to a halt in A Quiet Place: Day One, when the ferocious, sound-sensitive alien invaders that terrorized the tough-as-steel Abbott family in two previous A Quiet Place movies land like bombs in New York City.
The gape-mouthed monsters descend on the entire planet at once, but who knows why? As noted in our Part II review, the creatures don't actually eat people, but just maim and eviscerate every human in hearing distance because we make too much noise.
The film, written and directed by Michael Sarnoski (Pig), offers no intel on where the aliens are from, or for what purpose they've come or been sent. They simply mow down panicked, fleeing New Yorkers with cruel, bloody efficiency, and that's all anyone needs to know.
In 1996, the original Twister stormed the summer box office, winding up as the year's second-highest-grossing movie (behind Independence Day). Directed by Jan de Bont, who was still riding high off the success of Speed, Twister was loud, action-packed, and, especially when viewed today, utterly of its time.
It's totally '90s Hollywood, from the treacly, faux-Spielberg score, to the glow of Helen Hunt's movie stardom, to the fact that the only non-white cast member among dozens of characters has just a single incidental line. There was plenty that filmmakers might do differently with a sequel.
In its gung-ho gruesomeness and gleeful sense of camp, Michael Windsor's lively staging of American Psycho at Monumental cuts to the quick of the macabre musical-comedy based on Bret Easton Ellis' 1991 novel.
From the nylon tarps covering the theater walls to a strobe-lit massacre set to Huey Lewis' "Hip to Be Square," Windsor's production captures the humor throughout the adaptation by Duncan Sheik (music and lyrics) and D.C. native Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa (book).
The show also aptly conveys the horror of homicidal protagonist Patrick Bateman's foul acts and urges. Namely, lead Kyle Dalsimer nimbly treads the bloodstained tightrope of embodying Bateman in a tight song-and-dance performance, while savagely letting loose as the demon banker of Wall Street who fears his mask of sanity will soon drop.
These are challenging times for news organizations. And yet it’s crucial we stay active and provide vital resources and information to both our local readers and the world. So won’t you please take a moment and consider supporting Metro Weekly with a membership? For as little as $5 a month, you can help ensure Metro Weekly magazine and MetroWeekly.com remain free, viable resources as we provide the best, most diverse, culturally-resonant LGBTQ coverage in both the D.C. region and around the world. Memberships come with exclusive perks and discounts, your own personal digital delivery of each week’s magazine (and an archive), access to our Member's Lounge when it launches this fall, and exclusive members-only items like Metro Weekly Membership Mugs and Tote Bags! Check out all our membership levels here and please join us today!
You must be logged in to post a comment.