Review: Drift (2000)
Dennis Schwartz
music: Steven Pranoto; cast: Reggie Lee (Ryan), Greyson Dayne (Joel), Jonathon
Roessler (Leo), Desi del Valle (Carrie), Sebastien Guy (Matt), T. Jerram Young
(Dane), Michel Choban (Bob); Runtime: 86; rated: NR; producers: Quentin
Lee/Bella Yurkovetsky; Margin Films; 2000-Canada/USA)
"This is one powerful film."
Reviewed by Dennis Schwartz
A gay-theme film involving a love triangle in the life of three earnest and
articulate young men, who all handle rejection really well. Though its romantic
situations revolve around the gay lifestyle, it is tuned into the love problems
people of all sexual orientations equally face. Love is something that has
always puzzled mankind, and more often than not it doesn't go as smoothly as one
wishes. The film's main protagonist reads Wordsworth for answers. He does so
because he believes love is something "in transit," which is a feeling he shares
with the bard. But he will learn that one is still left to discover on their own
what it is they desire in a relationship and what love means.
"Drift" is the born and raised in Hong Kong, but now based in Los Angeles and
Vancouver, indie filmmaker Quentin Lee's baby. He's earned the reputation of
being the "enfant terrible" of queer cinema in the film festival circuit by
getting banned in Japan and by his uncompromising films about relationships.
Previously he directed "Flow" (a series of his short films) and co-directed
"Shopping for Fangs." Mr. Lee received a B.A. and an M.A. in English from UC
Berkeley and Yale University respectively. He then went to Los Angeles to
complete his M.F.A. in Film Directing at UCLA. In Drift he also acts as
co-producer, cinematographer, and screenwriter. It's a lively and perceptive
indie made on a shoestring budget--it was financed with a prestigious production
grant from the Canada Council for the Arts. It was DV shot guerrilla-style in 12
days around the L.A. area, using the controversial Dogme-style. Therefore, it's
composed mainly of close-up shots and a camera that operates only in broad
daylight--no studio lights here. It shows lots of bland shots of Los Angeles --
a city photographed as if to show it has no personality. L.A. looks tired and
forlorn (even its famous beaches look unappealing), while the lovers remain
unfazed by its emptiness and its environmental hazards. Instead, they fight hard
to create their own friendly living conditions through their relationships and
uncompromising lifestyle, and seem to have blinkers on as they glide (or drift)
through the city and life as only the young at heart can.
The film has a fluidity and natural honesty. Through its superb script,
well-conceived direction and expressive actors with unforgettable faces, it
richly created a real-life situation and wisely took its own sweet time to dig
into the character traits of its three inquisitive protagonists. It brought out
from them their raison d'ętre, and in how many other films can you say the same?
Love is the elusive charm that can make one blind to one's daily horrors, or it
could be such a deadly force that it can overwhelm those who are caught in its
traps and lead them down a road to suicide. This intelligent film gets itself
all worked up about how real people deal with these problems. It is opposed to
how Hollywood might picture gays or, for that matter, even how most gay
cinematic conventions treat their own. Both find it necessary for some reason to
usually water things down in order to fluff off the confrontational issues that
this film never backs off from. Thankfully Lee's sensitive, intelligent and
subtle script doesn't resort to that formulaic method for disposing of those
dark and anxiety-driven problems. This is one powerful film. It's such a relief
from a Hollywood type of film, which in its drive to make money its bottom line
hardly ever seems to make a film that reflects real-life.
"Drift" answers the difficult question of life and death facing this filmmaker
and other struggling artists in a society that has learned how to ignore art for
fake art. He ironically asks -- what's the difference between a psychopath and a
writer? The answer being that the writer wants his visions to be understood and
even though he is probably not capable of committing murder to enact those
thoughts he still visualizes the same things psychopaths do. But before it
answers that improbable question, the story unfolds about an aspiring
twentysomething Asian screenwriter, Ryan (Reggie Lee), living with his devoted
boyfriend of three-years, Joel (Greyson Dayne). They are on the eve of
celebrating that anniversary. But under the surface of this blissful
domesticity, Ryan is feeling uneasy about the romance. It just doesn't mean as
much to him as it once did, while Joel is quite satisfied. The writer seems to
have little in common with the more prosaic Joel, except for their need for a
secure relationship. Joel works for a gay and lesbian community activist group
as a web master, while Ryan tries to peddle his film scripts at night but must
work days in a coffee shop to support himself. Ryan is a visitor from Toronto
who has no trouble acclimating himself to a transient city like L. A. and, in
fact, seemingly enjoys it because it is so distant. But what he yearns for is to
find someone who understands him and can be his perfect soulmate. Yet, if he
can't find perfect love, he has been willing to settle for a safe relationship
with Joel.
At a party Ryan's literary agent has thrown, a virgin 20-year-old college
student, Leo (Jonathon Roessler), who aspires to be a novelist, engages Ryan in
an animated conversation and gets the out-of-place Joel jealous enough to leave
them alone. They talk incessantly for an hour about their love of horror films
and their connection with serial killers, as they both feel viscerally in tune
with the other and have really hit it off as fellow artists. As hard as it is
for him to do, the gentle and well-meaning Ryan breaks off the relationship with
Joel despite the bad timing of that decision -- which comes at the same time as
their upcoming anniversary. He then must lean on the shoulder of his straight
lady college friend from Berkeley, Carrie (Desi del Valle), for consolation and
understanding. His other confidante is a straight male, Matt (Sebastien Guy),
who not only offers him his apartment and shoulder to cry on --- but true
friendship. In the sitcom world it's usually the gay person offering these
services to the straight couple, as the filmmaker seems to be having fun
reversing this stereotype role.
Just when you think you know what direction the film is going it pulls a
"Sliding Doors" scenario and gives us two other what-if versions of what happens
in this love triangle, that is, after it shows Leo getting his first real kiss
and f*ck from Ryan. They begin an affair, but the story then reverses itself and
it starts over from the same point where Leo and Ryan connected. In this second
version, Ryan leaves Joel but seems displeased with Leo as a lover. When given
some space to think things over, he realizes that he loves Joel. But Joel is, at
first, wary to get back into this relationship. In the final version, Leo
expresses only a platonic interest in Ryan, but is really interested in the now
separated Joel. But learns the hard way that Joel doesn't feel anything special
for him.
The film's magic is conjured up in how it captures the hidden essence of the
three main characters by allowing us to observe them in their natural state and
how each version played out might be interpretated as one of their fantasies. We
get to know them because they hold real conversations about their pains and
desires, and everything they do seems like things real people would do if placed
in that situation. The film ends on an unpredictable note with Ryan taking to
the highway and vanishing from an L.A. that becomes hidden in a parade of cars.
It happens so suddenly, as if both Ryan and L.A. never existed. The filmmaker
gives us no clue as to where his alter ego Ryan is drifting off to, it is as if
he were just another one of L.A.'s many inhabitants who came for a short visit
to the city of dreams and has touched only his small circle of friends who might
or might not hear from him again. He's now more emotionally mature and confident
that he can land on his own two feet no matter where he goes, and if he dies or
falls on his face he at least found some answers to comfort him. He has become
absorbed by a story he heard about a double-suicide pact between two lovers, and
now believes that finding love and then dying is the ultimate high in romance.
This ambiguous ending, that leaves us hanging as to Ryan's state of mind and the
location he's heading to, is a more satisfying ending than most such
relationship dramas present. Most films think that they have to resolve things
or else their script failed.
I also must mention that I enjoyed Ryan's coffee shop boss, Bob (Michel Choban),
who played his small curmudgeon part with a knack for delivering perfectly timed
comical responses.
This is the kind of intimate (some hot kissing scenes and touching moments) and
personal search for the truth film that deserves a larger audience than just the
underground gay scene, but the realist in me knows it won't get that chance in
mainstream venues.
REVIEWED ON 8/18/2002 GRADE: A
Dennis Schwartz: "Ozus' World Movie Reviews"
Š ALL RIGHTS RESERVED DENNIS SCHWARTZ
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