gaycitynews.com via Michelle Trachtenberg Google Alert

Volume IV, Issue 18 | May 05 - 11, 2005
FILM

MYSTERIOUS SKIN
Directed by Gregg Araki
Tartan Films
Opens May 6
Film Forum

TARTAN FILMS

A decade after being sexually abused by a Little League coach, Neil, a
hustler played by Joseph Gordon-Levitt, and Brian, portrayed with
striking conviction by Brady Corbet, still can’t make sense of what
they experienced and what they lost.

When Coaches Attack

Filmmaker Gregg Araki confronts pedophilia with unflinching candor

By DAVID KENNERLEY

The opening scene of “Mysterious Skin” shows a young boy basking in a
slow-motion shower of candy-hued Fruit Loops. But, believe me, the
sugarcoating ends there.

For Gregg Araki has crafted a raw, exquisitely disturbing portrait of
two small-town Kansas boys, forever poisoned by a pederast, that’s
guaranteed to leave a bitter aftertaste. In fact, the film is so
intense it’s rated NC-17.

Based on the 1995 novel by Scott Heim, the stylish indie is fresh from
the 2005 TriBeCa Film Festival, where it caused a minor sensation.
Araki’s boldly sophisticated take on such dicey material is a
triumph—light-years ahead of most queer films that merely aim to
entertain, and often miss.

Spanning roughly a decade, “Mysterious Skin” alternates between the
lives of Neil (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) and his teammate Brian (Brady
Corbet), who has blocked out the ordeal. The film is narrated by the
boys as teenagers, each straining to piece together fragments of a
woeful childhood. Understandably, these young victims have forgotten
their connection to each other.

The story begins in 1981, when eight-year-old Neil is Coach Heider’s
star Little League player. A half-hour into the film, we realize the
Fruit-Loops flurry is actually a sinister trick the coach uses to
sexually seduce the boy. Looking back, Neil describes the aftermath of
the initial encounter as “a kaleidoscope that shattered.”

Heider continues the abuse for an entire summer, luring Neil with an
“awesome” TV, Atari games, peach knee-highs and Kellogg’s cereal
trinkets. “All that mattered was I made Coach proud,” the boy explains.

After his molestation, bespectacled, gap-toothed Brian suffers from
nosebleeds and wets the bed. As a young adult, he seeks clues to his
despair from a girl who claims she was abducted by aliens. He also
scrawls in a “dream journal” to help dislodge buried memories.

As a teenager, Neil has hardened into a hustler, turning $50 tricks at
a local playground, yet plenty of boyish charm remains. He delights in
showing Wendy his number scribbled on a bathroom wall, like a baseball
trophy. After he turns down a hopeful john, he says with a smirk, “I
hate it when they look like Tarzan and sound like Jane.” It’s this
razor-sharp dialogue that keeps “Mysterious Skin” from being a complete
downer.

Neil wryly observes that his mother’s boyfriends all look like the
Marlboro man, who would later be “his type.” It’s no coincidence that
Coach sported a mustache, too.

With “Mysterious Skin,” the gay director, who gained a cult-like
following with edgy films like “The Living End” and “Totally F***ed
up,” has truly come of age. No other film has dared tackle this taboo
subject with such uncompromising courage—and sensitivity.

Instead of taking the well-worn, gritty pseudo-documentary route, Araki
favors a dreamlike, shimmering approach that serves to heighten the
drama’s dark power. The gorgeous cinematography is courtesy of Steve
Gainer.

Araki has a knack for extracting superb performances from key players.
You may recognize Gordon-Levitt, who lends Neil a noble tawdriness,
from his role on NBC’s “Third Rock from the Sun.” And Corbet
(“Thirteen”) retains his boyish vulnerability as a young adult breaking
free from his past. A brilliant scene where Brian confronts his
absentee, oblivious father packs a wallop, steering clear of maudlin
territory.

Both child actors (Chase Ellison as Neil, George Webster as Brian) also
shine. The image of cute little Brian in his devil’s Halloween costume,
magic-markered goatee and oversized wire-rim glasses is one that will
long stay with you, especially after blood starts gushing from one of
his nostrils.

Bill Sage, as Coach Heider, delivers a nuanced performance that
humanizes the monster-pedophile image.

Unfortunately, Araki has neglected the supporting cast. Elisabeth Shue
annoys as the freewheeling, slutty mom who loves her son but loves men
even more. Apparently the director forgot to tell Shue, and her make-up
artist, that the film spans ten years and to adjust accordingly. Lisa
Long, as Brian’s doting mother, shares a similar problem.

Neil’s platonic soulmate, Wendy (Michelle Trachtenberg), despite her
Goth outfits and sweet smile, is a one-note character as well. We grow
as aggravated by her constant carping to “be careful” and “play safe”
as Neil does. To her credit, as much as Wendy loves her young hustler
friend, she knows the score: “Where normal people have a heart, Neil
has a bottomless black hole.”

As has been done with other films set in the 1980s, you might expect a
nostalgia soundtrack crammed with tunes from Simple Minds and
Morrissey. But Araki goes one better. He’s secured two legends—ambient
music master Harold Budd and Robin Guthrie of the Cocteau Twins—to
create an entirely original score that smartly captures the film’s
noir, ethereal aspects, while not entirely turning its back on the
New-Wave sounds of the period.

Often gimmicks in the hands of lesser talents, Araki’s elegant
directorial flourishes—fades to black, flashbacks, montages, characters
speaking directly to camera—energize the film.

And don’t be put off by the mumbo-jumbo about aliens and the cosmos. It
all works.