Torch Song Sings

GRAFFITI

TORCH SONG SINGS

by Stephanie Harrell

"Torch Song Trilogy," is the poignant film adaptation of Harvey Fierstein's 1982 Tony Award winning play. The story concerns the major relationships in the life of Arnold Beckhoff (Fierstein)- a homosexual, Jewish drag queen from Brooklyn. These relationships include his lovers: Ed (Brian Kerwin) and Alan (Matthew Broderick) and his family: his mother (Anne Bancroft) and adopted son David (Eddie Castrodad). The outcome is a cast of characters we relate to and care about because of everything they are: human beings struggling with change, conflict, and love. The film forces us to question our prejudices and to thus realize the richness and value in all of humankind\.

The first scene opens in Brooklyn in the late 30s. A Dodgers' game plays in the background as the camera sweeps past a huge cemetery to Arnold's house. Arnold's mother is yelling "Arnold, lunch is ready." She continues yelling, searching the house. She finally finds Arnold cowering in the closet, dressed in women's clothing with lipstick smeared over his face. Her jaw drops, and Arnold's journey begins.

Thirty years later Arnold is doing female impersonations at a club and searching for a meaningful relationship. "I want more out of life than meeting a pretty face and sitting down on it," he confides to fellow-drag queen, Marcha Dimes. He meets Ed in a gay bar and falls in love, only to be disillusioned by Ed's bisexuality. Months after this painful break-up, he and Alan, a young model, meet, fall in love, and eventually decide to marry and adopt a child. Alan, however, is killed while attempting to rescue a gay man being beaten by a street gang.

Scott Collins, Detroit Free Press News Arts writer, has labeled the film "comfortably non-militant." He says, "I guess gentle confrontation is the best a Hollywoodized 'Torch Song' can hope for." His criticism is warranted, as the film does not emphasize the very real, often brutal, discrimination that gay men and lesbians face. The film's ability to induce viewer action is thus minimized. But the film succeeds in other ways.

Especially exceptional are scenes between Arnold and his mother. Both Fierstein and Bancroft possess the ability to dig into our guts and pull out every bit of hate, love, warmth, and respect that can be mustered. Bancroft's portrayal of the quick-witted, maybe-he'll-change-someday mother is bitingly real. With every burst of criticism- at one point she accuses Arnold of blasphemy for reciting kaddish (the Jewish prayer for the dead) over Alan's tombstone - the tension in their relationship resurfaces. Some people, even mothers, the film seems to say, will never accept homosexuality as anything but a problem to be kept in the closet. The conflicts in Arnold's life are frankly and honestly portrayed by Fierstein as a man tormented by his mother's refusal to accept him.

Other aspects of the film are not so positive. Alan and Arnold meet and fall in love and t is never clear exactly why they like each other. What's missing is why Arnold decides to take a chance and become part of another relationship. Matthew Broderick often seems uncomfortable and awkward, and is about as convincing as Sylvester Stallone playing a French diplomat. It s difficult to sense the great love they have for one another because we see only a surface view.

The film is not as politically powerful as it might be, but t is certainly better than no film portraying the plight of gay men - a much misunderstood minority group in our society. In a confrontation with his mother, Arnold retorts that Alan was killed by children taught by people like her that "queers don't matter, queers don't love." This film is successful in that it proves that everyone matters and everyone loves.