Queer Film Blogathon Entry: Trick

The following entry is a part of the Queering the Apparatus Queer Film Blogathon

When I first heard of the Queer Blogathon courtesy of StinkyLulu, I was both excited and apprehensive. At first glance, "queer cinema" was a term that is much like "chick lit" -- not a term that is degrading per se, but one that labelizes a medium based on only one aspect of it. But once I saw the original announcement, I believed that a goal of this project is to prove the versatility that cinema can offer when presenting gay themes. So while I am sure there will be many riveting entries about films with great political impact, I chose to blog about a film that I saw when I was twelve years old, a film that, by being so blatantly apolitical and free of issues, showed me more about what it means to be gay than any Logo movie of the week ever could ...


Trick (1999), directed by Jim Fall
Starring Christian Campbell, JP Pitoc and Tori Spelling

On paper, the plot of Trick is silly -- almost ridiculous. Gabriel (Campbell) is a cute but nerdy aspiring playwright who encounters an attractive go-go-boy, Mark (Pitoc), on the subway in Manhattan.



The two spend an entire night in Manhattan trying to find a place to have a one-night stand. Surprisingly, the film ends up not being about sex but about an emotional connection between an unlikely pair, as well as presenting a cavalcade of characters, ranging from stereotypical older piano bar queens, reformed gay Christians, drunken party boys, and various aspiring theater whores.

It is strange to think a film with such an ostensibly shallow plot would have such impact on a questioning 12-year-old --



after all, the first shot of JP Pitoc's gargantuan pectoral muscles let me know I was at least bisexual -- but subtle choices by the screenwriter prevent the film from being just a gay movie.

Case in point: Gabriel's roommate, Rich, is straight. While Rich is a buffoon and there is a sense that the film argues straight men are dumb as rocks, it is also a powerful thing to contain a scene in which Gabriel and Rich are in the bathroom, flipping a coin to decide who gets the apartment to have sex that night (Gabriel with Mark and Rich with his girlfriend returning from Paris). Their sexual orientations are different, but they both have a common interest, as well as a respect for each other. Compare this to a recent comedy series on Logo, in which any time one of the characters has to even TALK to a heterosexual, panic and chaos ensue.





But if the film is to have any queer sensibility, it is an actressexual's dream. Tori Spelling surprisingly knocks out of the park her role as Catherine, the neurotic aspiring actress who is hopelessly in love with her gay best friend -- never on screen will there be a more hilarious monologue about cheese fries. It is a fun, fearless performance, as if an agent told her to find a role that was the furthest thing away from either Donna Martin or her various TV-movie roles.


In the role of Rich's ditsy, free-spirit girlfriend, Lorri Bagley achieves the funniest scene in the movie. Having just had reunion sex with Rich and with her breasts in full display, she announces her dream of being a sex therapist while attempting to repair a rift between Mark and Gabriel. With her exotic looks and coquettish voice to boot, Bagley does the most with a small part.





Finally, one would be remiss to omit the performance of Miss Coco Peru -- it's one of the meatiest parts for a drag queen this side of To Wong Foo. Coco Peru is the true diva of the movie, and also the catalyst as she is the one who plants the seed of doubt in Gabriel's mind about Mark, and when she is proven to be the only villain of the film, it's another cliche turned on its ear.



Nearly ten years later, I still remember how I felt viewing this movie: the sadness I felt when the bitchy friend I watched it with announced, "You'll never have pecs like that" as Gabriel doffs his shirt at the nightclub; my heart melting when Mark and Gabriel clandestinely hold hands while sitting at a 24-hour diner; the wonder I had, wondering what life would be like when *I* would be in my twenties and gay. I have yet to date a go-go boy, but I did move to New York City and began my own fake career as an aspiring entertainer. The other ways the film mirrors my life (my first roommate was his own version of Rich, I never did get pecs like Christian Campbell, and one of the only people I currently know in NYC is an older man who likes piano bars) is still surprising.

While Trick may not be a film with great social or political impact, it was my first "gay movie", and the first work of art I viewed as an adolescent that let me know that it was okay to be gay. And in a world where married men solicit sex in airport bathrooms, I think that's enough.