ariel alba

The heartbeat carries both life and death within itself

Perhaps it was the fact that, at just eleven years old, I saw 'The Shining', the British adaptation of Stephen King's novel of the same name, that immunized me against terror. Stanley Kubrick's 1980 classic, which tells the story of a man who loses control in an isolated hotel and serves as a terrifying exploration of madness and isolation, led me to enjoy and passionately follow psychological horror films and series, even though they almost never achieve the state of dread that is their goal and essence.
However, the unconventional Japanese series 'Tokimeki Bakudan', which blends survival game, thriller, comedy, BL drama, and friendship, brought me closer to something similar to fear: an enjoyable fear, generated in a way as simple as it is precise. In the unknown abandoned warehouse where the plot takes place, six men locked with mysterious collars around their necks that respond to certain electrical signals from the brain must live together for several days while the AI measures their emotional levels.
In the unknown abandoned warehouse where the plot takes place, six men locked with mysterious collars around their necks that respond to certain electrical signals from the brain must participate in a 72-hour death game, while the AI ​​measures their emotional levels, the splendor of their heartbeats, the energy of their heartbeats, where their heartbeat comes from...
The confusion they live upon waking up in the warehouse is experienced by former soccer player Kadotani Soya (Kobayashi Ryota - 'Zettai BL ni Naru Sekai VS Zettai BL ni Naritakunai Otoko'), the president of an IT company Tachibana Hirokazu (Nishikawa Shunsuke - ('Kare ga Boku ni Koishita Wake'), college student Maruno Gakuto (Kusachi Ryono - #ZettaiBL), former Yankee Goda Takenori (Takeshi Naoki), game streamer Sugiura Tomoki (played by Hozumi Yuya) and otaku office worker Ohara Shigenori (voiced by Maeda Souta), is in for a surprise when a stuffed dog named Masao (voiced by Shimono Hiro), who claims to be an AI, announces their mission: to study the incomprehensible human emotion of tokimeki (racing heartbeat). Bakudan means "bomb".
One can enter this warehouse (the Hell?), but it will be difficult to get out. Little by little, through informational hooks, so that viewers can weave multiple conjectures, the series clarifies the reason why the horror is unleashed: if the measured values exceed a certain limit, the person will be eliminated through a chemical substance that will enter their bodies. They cannot remove the collar by force, nor can they leave the place with it around their neck.
If there is no clear winner after the 72-hour death game has elapsed, a self-destruct system will be activated.
Yes, of course, 'Tokimeki Bakudan' has a bit of the first 'Alice in Borderland' game and Sartre's "Huis clos," in that everyone expects to be tortured, but no "executioner" appears. Instead, the characters discover they are there to torture each other, inducing their hearts to beat so fast that they die.
It's impossible to be completely original at this point, although the series doesn't focus as much on the substance as on how the mystery, tension, and unease are presented and developed during the stay of the six men who, chosen at random, must live together in the warehouse.
The premise that heartbeats (and the mystery surrounding them) produce true terror is novel.
During their stay in the warehouse, each character is an enemy of the other. They cannot leave the warehouse with the other, but in turn, they must take care of and protect each other. There will be only one survivor. Personal independence has become demonic. Since it's impossible for everyone to leave, they are condemned to live provoking alien emotions in their companions. However, there is a possibility of salvation in redemption, friendship, and love that help create bonds between people. The series explores the concept that the heartbeat can be a very mysterious feeling or emotion, connected to love, friendship, and admiration. Although it is part of the individual from birth, it changes and tends to disappear as a person ages.
The characters in the series are their own executioners. They keep their gaze fixed and constant on their companions; and they seek to provoke emotions in each other: To survive, the experiment must be successful. To be successful, the six men must be moved. Emotion is synonymous with death.
Would the solution be to withdraw into themselves, try to act normally, avoid emotions by fleeing from the gaze of others, from the words of others, from the touch of others...? This doesn't save them. They are condemned to listen to each other's thoughts, to be looked at by others, to be touched by others... whose presence becomes evident and can become unbearable and even fatal.
How can you avoid getting emotional when the look on someone's face, a simple touch, the air moving that piece of cropped hair that falls over your forehead like a fringe and is known in Latin America as bangs, crossing your arms, shaking your hair, giving the impression of showing off your body after assuming a meditative pose, lying on the cold floor, a tickle, saying a name, rubbing your leg with your hand, the sound of a body hitting the floor—in other words, the slightest reaction—can provoke emotions?
And while Sugiura Tomoki, with his experience participating in this macabre game, is the type of person who manipulates the situation to his advantage, what will happen to the hearts of two participants when they beat strongly in love with each other? If anything good comes from this crazy and perverse experiment, it's that two destined people will meet.
Even though all the participants should have the same conditions (perfect strangers who met just a few hours ago in this place, and with completely opposite ways of thinking), and yet the hearts of Kadotani Soya and Maruno Gakuto beat for each other, it can only become a weakness. However, these two characters have survived until the end, loving each other in secret, their hearts beating for each other.
"Which of the two will survive if, as the 72-hour deadline approaches, there is no clear winner in the game of death? Who will surrender with their heart beating fast, and who will continue to live with the sorrow of having lost someone?" Masao will ask.
"Can love generate a non-standard emotion that makes the heart race and allows us to overcome the barrier between life and death?" Kadotani and Maruno will ask. And I add: Will the two lovers be able to make it out alive?
'Tokimeki Bakudan' reminds me that psychological horror isn't just about jump scares or gore; it explores the human mind and our deepest fears, creating an atmosphere of tension that stays with us long after watching the series.
For Kumamoto Hiromu, the series' screenwriter and creator, the heartbeat carries within itself both life and death. Without a heartbeat, there is no life. Love, self-preservation, and the protection of a loved one accelerate the heartbeat. Hope dies with the last beat. But at the same time, the heartbeat can move us, and emotions can even cause death.
If you're a fan of intense emotions and stories of suspense and psychological horror, and you can enjoy a BL narrative, you'll enjoy it.

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The seduction scene between two very masculine men is one of the best in world queer cinema

Some love stories are written with poetry, and others are etched in pain. 'Bangkok Love Story' is not the typical romance that BL lover’s dream of... it's raw, confusing, and drenched in sadness and tragedy. Love isn't easy here. It's dangerous, fleeting, and the world refuses to let it exist in peace.
Set in the harshness of Bangkok's slums and the central area, which is full of neon lights and luxurious mansions, the film is violent, passionate, and deeply tragic.
The story follows Maek (Rattanaballang Tohssawat), a hitman, whose tragic past, a blind mother, and an HIV-positive brother named Mhok (Weeradit Srimalai), both homeless, led him to a life of murder. But he's a hired gun with a conscience: he'll only take the lives of people who lack innocence.
His latest assignment is to assassinate Ith (Chaiwat Thongsaeng), a young police informant who knows too much. But when Maek discovers that the man he's meant to kill is innocent and the man who wants him dead turns out to be a criminal, he refuses to do it: executing him goes against his complicated code of honor. After fleeing from his boss and being wounded while protecting Ith, the two men go into hiding together for a time, fearing death by those pursuing them. In a show of gratitude, Ith takes care of Maek during his convalescence.
The scenes in this part of the film are brimming with homoeroticism, as the two fugitives, usually naked to the waist (and very close to each other), constantly gaze at each other when the other isn't looking.
Masterfully executed in this first hour of the Thai gay romantic crime action drama, written, directed, and produced in 2007 by Poj Arnon, the viewer will enjoy a growing sexual tension that finally explodes when Iht rubs Maek's back while bathing the wounded man, unable to use his own hands. They gaze at each other, kiss, and suddenly find themselves engaged in a passionate sexual experience.
In these moments, Arnon expresses through images his power to explore the human heart in the face of danger, the discovery of sexuality, and extraordinary circumstances.
The photography of the seduction scene between these two very masculine men is among the best in global queer cinema of all time. Set on the rooftop of a nearly ruined building with the Bangkok skyline as a backdrop, it is passionate and sensual, with lush, romantic piano music.
But when it's all over, a confused Maek freaks out, demands that Iht leave and leave him alone, and pours water over himself to cleanse himself of what happened. Heartbroken, Iht returns to Sai (Chatcha Rujinanon), his fiancée, but is no longer interested in continuing the relationship with her.
The provocative story of a police informant and a murderer who fall in love then disintegrates before my eyes. The reason for this is that director Arnon falls into the worst clichés of a low-budget Hollywood tearjerker, with endless scenes of an elusive man struggling to accept his feelings for another man, who, while secretly yearning for revenge, hides from his beloved, but leaves signs that he is there to lure the other man back. And to top it all off, the magic of the piano music is transformed into pure, banal, repetitive artifice.
Still, 'Bangkok Love Story' should be praised: in addition to being a milestone for its portrayal of gay men on the Thai screen, something unusual for the time, since previous representations consisted mostly of stereotypical transvestites (or kathoey in their native language), the director continued a cinema that tackled taboo subjects in that Southeast Asian country at the beginning of the 20th century, just as he did with his previous films 'Go-Six' (2000), which portrayed a love triangle between a man and two women (one of them sexually ambiguous), and 'Cheerleader Queens' (2003), which featured transvestite teenagers who aspire to be cheerleaders. Also noteworthy is the almost poetic cinematography and the beautiful full-color photography, which makes excellent use of the locations, the panoramic views of the buildings, and the cityscapes of the Thai capital to tell us this story that begins as an act of mercy and becomes a story of forbidden love, caught between survival and desire.
Moreover, the film is steeped in Thai culture, making it a very exotic cinematic experience. If you doubt it, ask yourself: how many movies have you seen where there is a shootout in a Buddha statue warehouse?
In addition to its well-crafted erotic scenes, the film explores the raw, uncontrived reality of the situation faced by thousands of homeless people and AIDS sufferers in Thailand. It also addresses cruel situations, such as the abuse and rape of a child, and how this event changes the victim's destiny.
Chaiwat Thongsaeng and Rattanaballang Tohssawat do a great job, portraying believable characters with explosive chemistry that sparks audience interest.
Maek is the best-designed character, with a past that serves as the basis not only for the kind of life he leads, but also for his enormous emotional burden, which prevents him from getting close to anyone.

YOU MAY LIKE TO KNOW

When developing the script, the director used names with specific meanings. Maek means Cloud; Iht means Stone; Mhok means Fog; and Sai means Sand.
The film had serious difficulties getting released. During the pre-production process in 2006, the Royal Thai Police objected to the original script, as Iht's character was a police officer who eventually admitted his homosexuality and fell in love with a murderer.
As a result, the director was forced to rewrite the script to make Iht's character and the elements establishing his connection to the Thai police force more vague and ambiguous, in order to pass the scrutiny of the Censor Board, which included members of the Royal Thai Police.
During filming, the actor playing Iht requested that the cameras be used at different angles so he wouldn't have to kiss his co-star, but Arnon explained the importance of realistic kissing.
Ultimately, Chaiwat Thongsaeng accepted the role of Iht, claiming that he was motivated only by the challenge and hoping the film would make him famous. He even told the press that the experience of kissing another man seemed disgusting at first, but he managed to do it by pretending to kiss his girlfriend.
For his part, Rattanaballang Tohssawat declared that it was "an honor" to play a gay man.
Upon its release, the film, which was very popular and grossed a lot at the box office, received mixed reviews, partly because it was considered overly melodramatic. Other positive reviews hailed it as Thailand's most daring gay-themed film. It won Best Film at the Brussels Independent Film Festival.

IN SUMMARY
'Bangkok Love Story' is a fusion of 'Brokeback Mountain' (on a conceptual and cultural level, but not on an artistic level) and an action thriller set in the Thai capital, but with less emotional complexity, more male tearjerkers, and excessive gunplay.
Although it aspires to be an innovative queer film, it leans toward exaggerated masculine tropes and borrows the color palette from Kar-Wai Wong's dreamy melancholy, but without fully capturing the emotional nuance.

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The film works as a metaphor for fascism

Soldier Abel (Sandino Martín) comes running and asks permission, without neglecting martial salutes, to appear before Major Mac Favila (JC Santos). The latter, from a position of authority, which he consequently abuses, welcomes him into a dark and gloomy space (as is the entire film) that looks and feels like a basement.
To get to the place it is imperative to cross a wall, or rather, a row of bars that emphasizes the feeling of an underground prison cell. On the other wall, in the background, in view of whoever arrives, there is a poster of Ferdinand Marcos. At his side, the even more despotic wife Imelda, and a rack of rifles. In the center is a long, narrow bench under bright lights. A new electric shock runs through the viewer's body: everything resembles an interrogation and torture room.
Far away, on the surface, you can hear the cadets singing military marches following the officer's voice of command, while they are evaluated physically and mentally, without their superiors taking into account the cruelty still present, both in the military and in the Philippine educational system.
But dark and gloomy here does not mean uninteresting; On the contrary: it is expressed in the psychological sense of the term. 'Esprit de Corps', the film adaptation by director Kanakanan Balintagos (aka Auraeus Solito), is stunning.
The film, filmed in the Philippines in 2014 and based on one of Auraeus Solito's own dramas written in the 1980s, is visually stunning and will remind us why cinema is considered the seventh art.
From a unique perspective that functions as a metaphor for fascism, the Palawan-Filipino filmmaker, also author of works such as 'Ang Pagdadalaga ni Maximo Oliveros', 'Tuli' ('Circumcision') and 'Boy', opts for a closed frame that makes the viewer feel trapped in the claustrophobic and terrifying reality, both of the victims and the perpetrators themselves, of that dark and devastating movement of the 20th century that celebrates the idea of nation-state, of a leader who brings together all the power and usually despises democracy, seeking instead to establish a dictatorship that controls all aspects of public and private life.
Winner of three awards at the Cinema One Original Film Festival, including Best Director, Best Actor (Sandino Martín) and Best Production Design (Hai Balbuena), the film uses real locations, and a cast that combines established and non-professional actors to portray the crudeness of that ideology that has a strong inclination towards militarism and imperialism, and that often uses propaganda to mobilize national fervor and suppress any form of opposition.
A master of the art of documentary, as witnessed by '60 Seconds of Solitude in Year Zero' (2011), 'Sacred Ritual of Truth' (2002) and 'Philippine New Wave: This Is Not a Film Movement' (2010), the viewer quickly realizes that Auraeus Solito likes improvisation, but within certain limits. That is why in the film there are scenes that were not written, but improvised, and they remained in the final cut because they provide something new and fresh. It is easy to notice the dominant influence of Stanislavski, but also that in 'Esprit de Corps' there is a lot of Brecht. The contentions, the open endings, the appearance that nothing happens, the stopping of chains of actions are essentially Brechtian.
The film allows us to see how at the heart of fascism lays a perverse dichotomy: the glorification of "us" and the demonization of "them."
In a society and institution as homophobic as the Philippine army, we find a common thread of dehumanization: homophobia. This quickly takes shape as officers and recruits display the notion of "masculine machismo", alluding to strong warrior bulls to be celebrated, and those who, whether for reasons of race, religion, or for being weak "faggots", as the young men in the film so vividly call them, or any other arbitrary criterion, are marginalized, persecuted or eliminated.
For the record: Even though the ban on gay soldiers in the Philippine military was lifted in 2010, discrimination persists today.
The film explores the entire range of military philosophy: an officer must be, in addition to being... handsome?, strong; it should be a rock and not a simple gem ("What are you? Jade? Ruby? Turquoise?"). And something I don't know if it really matters or why, but you should know word for word Cyrano's short soliloquy "What is a kiss?", found in the work of Edmond Rostand.
Solito leads the viewer out of that dank, barred dungeon in search of an image of ecstatic beauty: a naked male form floating above us in the water, free from the weight of the world. It's a moment that takes your breath away, no matter what your personal orientation, and goes a long way toward justifying the insertion of Rostand's poem (why did Favila choose that poem anyway, to evoke the romantic nature of warrior culture? It suggests the sensuality of physical exertion and skin contact? Out of sheer perversity?) into the film:
"After all, what is a kiss?
An oath of loyalty taken very close
A seal on a confession
A pink red dot over the letter "i" in "loving"
An example of eternity murmuring like a bee
A balsamic communion with a flower flavor.
A fashion of inhaling the heart of the other and
To taste the edge of each other's lips
And the souls of each one."
Unintentionally or not, with this film its director makes you feel the irresponsible running, the pulsating rhythm of those words.
In this ROTC seduction and ranks game scenario, cadets are questioned for their knowledge and reprimanded for small mistakes. As punishment, they must do an inhuman amount of physical exercises while being physically, sexually and intellectually humiliated. For example, a cadet is accused of being able to claim to become an officer only because his mother became a prostitute to pay his tuition. Another hides before the arrival of the Father Rector at the soldiers' meeting place. He will then tell his companion Cain (Lharby Policarpio), both at odds with each other for outwitting the corrupt Major Marc for his position, that in his childhood he was sexually abused by a priest.
As the cadets are about to faint, the unexpected occurs... or perhaps the imagined: the sliding of a small towel, held by a soft hand, from the muscular back soaked with sweat to the rigid nipple. How will the cadet respond? What could happen to him if he refused to obey his superior's sexual desire? Is the hypocritical attitude one of the reasons why they can be so flexible? Can both the cadet and the superior openly ignore the question of morality? Is what happens in that basement with the low ceiling, bars and interrogation and torture bench that give the idea of a prison correct or not? Should that "prison" be eradicated? The truth is that much of the tension comes from maintaining that carefully cultivated act of evasion.
Auraeus Solito explores deep themes under the guise of an LGBT+ film, for which he decided to recreate the action in Marcos' dictatorial Philippines (overthrown before the play was written), and written when the director was only 17 years old and had just left high school. I should note here that the Reserve Officer Training Program today is no longer mandatory in universities, and attendance, not to mention the sense of relevance, is almost non-existent.
With his distinctive visual style, the filmmaker creates one of the most difficult films to watch in cinema history; a masterpiece that is both a fierce critique of totalitarianism, fascism, imperialism and corrupt power and human degradation, and a character study.
The director creates one of the films most overtly and lyrically obsessed with homoeroticism. Most of the time the cadets sweat and perform physical exercises half naked, under the gaze of the officers who scrutinize them, shout at them, approach their subordinates, touch them, incite them to continue sweating... At other times, you find them grunting against the bars, flexing their exhausted muscles against the concrete floor or grass, or with their bodies dripping with water after the soldier has been in a putrid river as punishment.
But there is not only homoerorism. Also in another peak moment, Auraeus Solito shows us eroticism in its various polymorphic forms: a naive provincial mentions his desire to one day see a diwata, and a forest spirit appears, in all its carnal splendor, represented by actress Sue Prado in a brief but brave cameo.
Capturing the aesthetics of the era, the cinematography and production design serve as the perfect backdrop for this captivating and thoughtful tale. It is a reminder that this political ideology advocates centralized power, fervent nationality and a disdain for individual rights, and has left indelible scars on the fabric of our collective memory. And cinema, with its unique ability to tell stories, has captured and presented fascism in a way that allows us to understand its horrors and reflect on its lessons.
'Esprit de Corps' not only serves as a reminder of the horror of fascism, but also as a call to action. In times when intolerance, hatred and racism prove to be on the rise, it is essential to remember our past and the lessons we have learned. Fascism and intolerance can take many forms and manifest themselves in different times and cultures.
Fascism lives, as demonstrated by the operation of ethnic cleansing, racism and human devastation, perpetrated by Israel in the Gaza Strip, with exhortations to the armed forces of Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu to replicate the Hebrew revenge against the Amalekites referred to in the Bible: "now go and wound them and destroy absolutely everything you have and do not spare them, but kill them, both men and women, infants and infants, oxen and sheep, camels and donkeys".
Fascism lives, as demonstrated by the operation of ethnic cleansing, racism and human devastation, which in the name of Russophobia Ukraine has perpetrated against the inhabitants of Donbass, the vast majority of whom are of Russian origin, with exhortations to the armed forces of President Vladimir Zelensky to raise the flags of Stepan Bandera, the fascist, anti-Semite and leader of Ukrainian nationalism in the 1930s and 1940s, main organizer of the Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists (OUN), and its armed wing, the Ukrainian Insurgent Army (UPA).
Fascism lives, as demonstrated by the North American president, Donald Trump, who in his second term acts like a 19th century emperor, showing that the United States has a serious problem in its democracy, which is that of oligarchy, exhibiting an imperialist fascism, loaded with authoritarianism with which he mercilessly attacks people he considers subversive or who betray the country (in a new McCarthyism); migrants, whom he calls criminals, and persecutes with drastic methods while attempting to eliminate the requirement that his children born in the United States be recognized as Americans; imposing racism and patriarchal white supremacy in a country where half of the population is of black, Latino or Asian origin, and not white.
Fascism lives, and a film that not only serves as entertainment, but as a call to remember, reflect and act to prevent history from repeating itself, may be the best way to combat it.

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The unlikely love story between a blackmailer and his victim

A couple on social media blackmailed by their false love relationship, famous influencers and photographers, a well-kept secret, an indecent proposal by a blackmailer, and an unexpected romantic relationship are the center of the plot of 'Influencer Lover', the South Korean BL series directed by Jeong Dami (정다미), a specialist in sweetening compromised situations with great stylistic coherence.
Filmed in vertical format, that is, produced specifically for mobile, the Shortime series has all the characteristics of "Vertical Dramas": each episode lasts less than five minutes, so the action happens as quickly as possible.
Understood more as a genre and not as a simple format, since the length of the episodes requires them to be even faster, 'Influencer Lover' is a series aimed at a young audience, so its chapters can be viewed when the potential audience to which it is directed is traveling on transport or enjoying a break from school. Even the audience will use their hands to watch the episode, hence the content is kept short.
With its fragmented visual language, the narrative of 'Influencer Lover' is full of quick cuts, screens that slide or split to offer two different perspectives of the story, managing to increase the number of shots that the viewer consumes, and at the same time offering more information in less time.
On this technological and creative terrain that is constantly changing and growing within BL production, the South Korean series tells the unlikely love story between a blackmailer and his victim.
We will soon meet Cha Eun Seong (Lee Ro Woom), a famous influencer and university photography student who pretends on screen to be dating Ji Yeong, his ex-girlfriend, with whom he broke up six months ago.
The perfect relationship of the couple known as EunJi has attracted many followers, causing the number of subscribers to increase to 800 thousand. But the romance did not last long: after three months of dating they separated. After the breakup, in order not to lose the audience, she suggests pretending that they are still dating. And he, not sure of himself, undecided in the face of this and other dilemmas, accepts.
Just when everything seemed stable, a character appears on the scene that leaves Eun Seong divided between his life as an influencer and true love.
With subtle and nuanced performances, the series adds drama, humor, romance, and a youth, university, and social media environment. The performance of Shin Yun Je (known for playing Jun Ho, a gay character in 'Bitter Sweet Hell'), as Gang Woo, is remarkable and convincing. I enjoy the full characterization of gestures and inflections with which he gives his character. He is given an adequate response by Lee Ro Woom, who demonstrates his talent for highly dramatic roles.
The trigger and motive for the action come from the blackmail of which Eun Seong is the victim by Choi Gang Woo, a third-year photography student, presumably bitter at having obtained second place in a photography contest whose winner is our fake boyfriend. Gang Woo is a specialist in photography of the human body, especially facial expression, and is looking for a model for an upcoming photography contest.
The dramatic twist leads to Gang Woo accidentally discovering the secret of the fake courtship and threatening Eun Seong with exposing him if he does not agree to pose as a model for an artistic photo shoot that does not have an erotic intention. Afraid that the truth about the fake relationship will come to light, causing him to lose the hearing, Eun Seong reluctantly agrees to obey the blackmailer's demands.
As I viewed the first images I asked myself: "Can the victim fall in love with their attacker?". I immediately responded: "If Stockholm Syndrome exists... anything is possible". And then I questioned: what is necessary for someone to fall in love with another person? Will our two protagonists be people who love themselves, who trust themselves, who appreciate themselves?
There are those who will say that if a person receives bullying it is because very deeply they feel unworthy of being loved, of being trusted, or appreciated... so they would not be able to love.
In mathematics there is the famous "less for less is more." In my opinion, it wouldn't work here: "not being able to love for the sake of not being able to love would never mean loving".
But since human relationships are not governed by mathematics... I insist... anything would be possible. Especially if we take into account that Gang Woo was already in love with Eun Seong when he proposed the agreement... otherwise, the need to attract the attention of his victim would not be understood.
Many will be bothered by the idea of presenting a blackmailer as the protagonist. Listing all the variations and permutations of the trope of this type of character here would be a lesson in insanity. Blackmail is such a key plot device, so intrinsic to the art of storytelling and human nature, that it is used in almost every show and movie at one point or another.
However, Shin Yun Je embodies a handsome "villain" and at the same time very human who will soon forget the blackmail to show himself as a being concerned for Eun Seong in the face of the professor's sexual harassment, or simply to get to know him as a person, paying attention to his noble human attributes, asking him about his life, his culinary tastes, his family...
What's more, the blackmailer ends up being "attacked" with a kiss by his "victim" on two occasions, before the romance begins.
Everything gets complicated when Eun Seong's ex-girlfriend asks him to go out again. In this scenario, will Eun Seong resume his relationship with Ji Yeong? Will she stop the fake courtship and start a romance with Gang Woo?
I really liked how Eun Seong managed to abandon his mercurial character to confront both the bullying teacher and acknowledge his feelings to the person he loved.
I would have liked the series to explore in more depth themes such as the fleeting nature of fame, the search for influence online, or the deception behind public personas.
Likewise, I would like to explore more rigorously the universe of photography of facial expressions or artistic nudes, a discipline that always generates a lot of controversy due to the diversity of opinions about it, something quite normal if we take into account the variety of cultural, social, and even religious factors that can affect how each person interprets the image of a person without clothes.
But as I said at the beginning of the review: we are facing a "Vertical Dramas". And here the action happens as quickly as possible, the duration of the episodes requires being even faster, and the content is brief... That is, fictions in vertical format have a series of their own narrative characteristics, and 'Influencer Lover' cannot ignore them.

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Sexual awakening, coming of age, toxic loves and first romantic relationships

Sexual awakening, coming of age, toxic loves, a student's infatuation with his teacher and the first romantic relationships are the center of the plot of 'Heart Stain', a South Korean series directed by Ha Na and written by Yoon I Na, which presents a plot that we have already seen on many other occasions, even much better achieved.
Woo-hyun (Kim Ji Oh), a high school senior, has a one-sided crush on Jeong-min (Kang Yeon Jae), his teacher and basketball club advisor. And in this sense, the series explores how hormonal changes, the issue of appearance, the lack of experience, the idealization of scenarios and characters become part of the cocktail of students falling in love with teachers, something that, although it is not well regarded socially, especially when the student is a minor, occurs with some frequency in that phase in which the teenager is looking for love and prefers to date older boys or girls.
However, in the series this infatuation remains platonic.
As part of this stage in a teenager's life of beginning to know himself and explore his sexuality, Woo-hyun one day hints to Jeong-min that he likes a boy, but without offering other details as he has no plans to confess until after graduation, when the teacher-student bond no longer exists between them.
The kind teacher, who is unaware of Woo-hyun's feelings for him, assumes his words as if a student came out of the closet, and supports him.
For his part, Park Do-ha (Ha Min) is secretly in love with Woo-huyn. When Do-ha discovers his secret, Woo-hyun fears that his best friend and classmate will judge him for liking men. Surprisingly, Do-ha responds with an unexpected proposal: the two of them start a romance until graduation: If Woo-hyun ends up in love with him, Do-ha wins. If Woo-hyun hasn't developed feelings for him after high school, Woo-hyun would be the winner.
Eager to forget Jeongmin, and with nothing to lose, Woo-hyun accepts the offer, believing that this relationship will help him overcome his unrequited love. Little by little, their friendship changes, and the two must determine the complicated feelings they have for each other.
To represent these dynamics, the series uses stereotypical characters. Do-Ha is shy, naive and tends to redeem himself from everything Woo-hyun does, despite suffering from love for being in love with the boy who is in love with someone else. Woo-hyun is the boy who also suffers, but for the love of someone other than Do-ha. But with the bet they both begin a relationship, cold, without substance, without passion, without romanticism.
The power relationship between them is clearly seen from the beginning of the series: Do-Ha chases Woo-hyun, while he sighs in love for his teacher. Do-Ha doesn't make the decisions about their relationship; he suffers for love; he waits for Woo-hyun to change and fall in love with him…
This selection of characters is tailor-made to represent certain dynamics: the boy who initially has no feelings for the boy who is dying of love is the one who gets all the attention; while the boy who is in love with the co-star, the one who cares about the other's happiness and well-being, does not receive corresponding love. In other words: Woo-hyun's character functions as the "bad boy" who has little or no interest in the feelings of others; while Do-Ha would be the "good boy" who loves and suffers from not being reciprocated.
These characters are joined by Sori (Shin Si Ye) and Taemin (Yoo Ho Soo), the two supportive friends and also classmates of the protagonists; while we will soon see how the love triangle gives way to a rectangle (also called quadrangle) when Junsu (Kim Yi Geon) admits to being in love with Do-Ha. And this last one is the third one-sided crush, ironically marked by the coordinates that Woo-Hyun, who does not love Do-Ha, will make a "long face" every time Junsun flirts with Do-Ha.
Woo-Hyun needs to hurt Do-Ha, cause the breakup of the weak relationship between the two, stimulate a forced departure of the person who loves him to a European country with the excuse of continuing his university studies, to finally realize the feelings he has developed for him.
'Heart Stain' is one of those series that teaches us with these ideals of romantic love to experience or desire a practically toxic love. I would have liked the narrative to be focused on working to banish this idea that love is suffering, to begin to build a beautiful, tender, egalitarian love, so that young people learn to love in a positive way.
Changing these stereotypes in the representation of BL series is vital so that the dynamics on which romantic love is based also change.
Because even despite having a happy ending after a jump in time, the two boys will have to separate once again..., despite Woo-hyun's feelings for Do-Ha seem sincere, their relationship still does not convince me.
'Heart Stain' is a showcase for teenagers to assimilate that relationships have to be full of suffering and pain, and even that happiness is achieved with thousands of kilometers of distance involved, and with a brief and frugal meeting of two or three weeks a year.
Despite its thoughtful writing that follows the struggle of the main protagonist, it has the perfect ingredients to succeed among young audiences in general and BL lovers in particular: a high school plot, teenage love, first dates... in the 8 episodes of about 24 minutes in length, the main myth of romantic love is represented: if love doesn't hurt, it's not love.
Just as it represents the clichés of what teenagers do on a daily basis, it also reproduces many dynamics of toxic relationships from a young age: love is suffering, love is pain and both hurt each other and distance themselves. All seen through the exploration of pain and the protagonist's internal conflict between desire and disappointment.
'Heart Stain' could have been the opportunity to dismantle and banish the myths about toxic teenage loves, just as it could have been an opportunity to teach teenagers what healthy relationships are. However, its slow pace, lack of chemistry, insufficiently strong feelings to convince me of the romantic relationship, a relationship that exudes one-sidedness and the lack of development of the characters, that is, our lack of knowledge of their personalities, their backgrounds, make it a boring series.
And the series, like all cultural products, represents and tells us in some way what the behaviors and dynamics in a relationship should be like. We as the public indirectly absorb these values and adopt them in our daily lives. That is why it is so important that cultural products reproduce situations in which healthy relationships occur, and if they present toxic relationships, narratives full of pain and suffering, they also show reflection and learning. This is not the case. It is not achieved due to the poverty of the script and direction in this sense.
They sell you this series as a love story, but at no point is that "love" really shown.
If we must rescue something, it is the photography, and since it is a South Korean production, one could not expect less, the shots are precise and it has that touch of a youthful atmosphere and a student setting. The performances are good, especially those of the protagonists; I think they knew how to exploit it, but sadly the series alone fails to hook me, much less suggest it to others to watch.

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Love and misunderstandings in the workplace

The narrative of South Korean BL series, more or less melodramatic or historical, youth or school, office or diverse work setting, adventure or sports settings, usually try to dramatically legitimize love between people of the same sex.
Shortime has in 'Falling for My Boss', a miniseries of 31 episodes of less than 2 minutes each, broadcast on September 4, 2024, a fictional paradigm whose main dramatic sources come, at first, from a love triangle in a flower shop, whose owner distrusts romances in the workplace after witnessing how romantic relationships can ruin the reputation of a company, when the previous owner of the small business selling flowers He had affairs with three employees.
As in so many stories of the romantic genre, the plot invites us to enter a happy and exciting universe in which Lee Jun confuses friendship with flirting, which is why he comes to believe that Baek Eun Ho and Hye Won, his two employees at Jude Flowers, a small but prosperous florist, are in a romantic relationship, so he becomes alarmed and, fearing a new scandal like the one he experienced in the past, he decides to intervene, creating a misunderstanding after another and hilarious scenario.
Paranoid about the dilemma, he does not dare to confront them directly for fear of crossing his limits as a boss or affecting the morale of the work group. However, he decides to take matters into his own hands when he considers he has all the evidence, after accidentally falling into his hands a Polaroid photo taken by the only female character in the miniseries, in which the two boys can be seen working in the flower shop, and under one of them a drawn red heart.
At the same time, this same photograph will lead the characters to a new misunderstanding: Baek Eun Ho will misunderstand that Lee Jun is secretly in love with him, giving rise to new hilarious situations in which each of them has the wrong idea about the other.
This production achieves a balance between entertainment and reflection, through a narrative that, although not deep, has credible and complex characters. Its impeccable staging uses a playful and festive visual style that highlights the psychological tensions of the plot.
Filmed in vertical format, the components that provide the miniseries with a melodramatic substrate come, mainly, from the female character: played by Son Na Ra, who is burdened by secretly loving the owner of the flower shop, despite having decided not to get involved in a romantic relationship until she progresses in her work, and one of the greatest elements of intrigue consists of wondering what Lee Jun will do when he discovers that the misunderstanding has led him to develop feelings for his employee and how he will react if the girl were to confess your love.
The best thing about this sweet and simple love story, although it barely proposes romantic or sentimental scenes (compared to other South Korean BL series), lies in the happy misunderstandings in which the only three characters in the miniseries are involved and how as the misunderstanding grows, the last employee to be hired part-time begins to wonder if he can reciprocate the feelings he believes the owner of the small business has for him.
Well-written characters, brimming with conflict and quite well nuanced, are these two, played with remarkable restraint and accuracy by Park Sang Hun, in his acting debut, as the owner of the small flower-selling business, and Baek Jeong Hun, who begins his career here as a film and television actor, as his employee. They are joined by an actress known for playing Han Seo Ah in the series 'Is There Equation in Love?', from 2022.
Exceptional professionals, the three work with enormous determination, even facing the challenges of new actors, and they make the viewer believe in their characters, in the conflicts they live, and the joyful situations they go through.
Park Sang Hun is an intelligent, sensitive and extremely committed actor, in addition to being a great ally in this project.
I imagine these three meeting during previous weeks with the directing team analyzing the plots, delving into the characters and reading each scene. I perceive them doing collective and group readings, which is the methodology preferred by both this writer and many film and television directors; in addition to having the support of trainers, due to their little or no previous experience in acting work.
In the second and last part, the series begins to revolve around dramatic situations, with confessions and statements in which the essence of the characters are expressed, moments in which BL lovers win when this trio must face their feelings and never betray the public's expectations, mostly built from the beginning on the question of whether or not love can triumph in the workplace.
To also celebrate the photography and costumes, which complement and characterize each character and the spaces in which they operate. And the musicalization is intentional and comfortable.
And both the art direction and the musical soundtrack, and the aforementioned interpretations, enhance that desire to create a happy series, where a small business selling flowers stops being just that place flooded with light, colors and smells, and becomes that romantic space in which two boys come to love each other.
It is just 40 minutes in which the viewer will experience a plot full of sweetness, joy and love, like in old dramas, excellent and highly recommended when you are looking for something romantic and simple.

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Captivating anthology series inspired by real lives

Oh, how I appreciate a captivating anthology series inspired by real lives, depicting moments in a person's life, whether in high school or college!
And this is precisely what 'Mr. X And I', based on the life of Chinese director Zhang Wen Shuang.
The trigger for the stories in the series is that they all portray a homosexual relationship. From there, Zhang Wen Shuang and Le Geng put together small stories that oscillate between the poetic, romance, questions between sexuality and gender, the school and youth environment, and they have had a notable staff of editors, scriptwriters and actors for each episode of its three seasons.
Yes, independent stories are my thing, because they usually offer room for creative experimentation, combining unconventional narrative structures, time jumps or even different visual styles within the same series without compromising the verisimilitude of the plot or characters; But if they have 8 gay men as protagonists and the city of Beijing, the Chinese capital, as a backdrop, they also intrigue me, which is why this miniseries ended up being one of my favorites. Even with the high bar to meet, I didn't leave the virtual platforms that showcase it disappointed in the slightest.
The series really has everything going for it (the cast, the script, the cinematography, the editing, the art, the controversy...) and it's not afraid to flaunt it. The icing on the cake is the confident and careful filmmaking of director Zhang Wen Shuang, who lets every facet of his creation shine.
Another of its strong points is the independent and self-contained narrative, the absence of a continuous plot and character development throughout the four episodes. This is a great advantage for the series viewer, since they can skip individual episodes that are less attractive without losing connection.
The final set, stacked, in its display packaging, is perhaps the strongest and most crucial feature of the miniseries. There is not a single weak link in the group.
The series is above all a great showcase for Guan Lexiao, Arthur Ma, Leon Li, Li Ou, Tu Dou, Wang Qiuhan, YiFan Wu Zhou Yibo, who play, in that order, Liang Haoran, Wang Kai Yuan, Zhao Xiaobu, Jia Ming, Li Xiang, Song Xiaoke, Tao Ye, and Xu Zhengxi, all skillfully played.
In this sense, as each episode tells a new story, the actors change, but not the production team. In this way, the creators allowed for a wide range of perspectives and constantly new creative influences.
Adding texture is a fantastic ensemble of character actresses. Look, if you recruit Wen Xin or Zhang Beiyu to play a supporting role in your series, then you will have piqued my curiosity. But what if you recruit them both? And ask them to plot in the shadows against the leading boys, one playing Gu Xue and the other Ai Tong? So, I'll be the first in line on opening night!
Although each episode tells its own story, the series has a unifying theme and style that runs through all four of its episodes.
The performances aren't the only artistry on display. The shot compositions are tremendously bold.
Len Geng and Zhang Wen Shuang love close-ups and "Us Against the World" (Ep. 1), "Promise You a City" (Ep. 2), "Beijing Beijing" (Ep. 3), and "The Groomsman" (Ep. 4) are full of them. It will fill the frame with as much of an actor's face as possible and give them the shallowest depth of field allowed to work with. And if the setting requires it, actors in medium shots will also float in a sea of soft focus. The effect is isolating.
These characters are constantly in states of reflection, of interaction with each other. At any given moment, they are dealing with what is best for their own life or relationship, and the technique magnifies the immense pressure the creators have placed on them; to fight for your happiness and that of the person who accompanies you on the journey of life and love.
So yes, Zhang Wen Shuang brings us uncomfortably close to the actors whenever the occasion arises.
No one can doubt it, I get so excited every time a director composes conceptually and with intention!

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Poetry, dance and homosexual desire

I remember that I was not able to go to its movie premiere in October 2011, because I was not yet of the necessary minimum age, but the interest in appreciating it was marked since those days, when my literature teacher spoke to us in the classroom about the poetry of the main Filipino feminist poets Rebecca Anonuevo, Benilda Santos, Merlinda Bobis, Joi Barrios, Ruth Elynia Mabanglo and Ophelia Dimalanta, and of the very artistic 'Ang Sayaw ng Dalawang Kaliwang Paa' ('The Dance of the Two Left Feet'), since then hailed as one of the great milestones of audience and critical reception on the Philippine screen so far this century.
My teacher told us in class about how this beautiful and moving film, winner of 7 Gawad Urian 2012 awards, including Best Film, Best Cinematography and Best Original Score at the Cinemalaya Independent Film Festival 2011 and the Pre-Columbian Bronze Circle Award at the Bogotá Film Festival that same year, elegantly presents poems by Filipino feminists that are intertwined with the dances featured in the 68 minutes of footage.
"The film is a technically sophisticated exploration of romantic longing that is both intellectually stimulating and emotionally engaging", the words of my literature teacher still ring in my ears.
Shortly after, I was able to see it, stored on a flash memory that we high school students who were interested in seeing a film of great cultural richness, originality and lyricism were passed from hand to hand directed by Alvin Yapan, one of the most respected film directors of the independent scene of that nation, also internationally recognized for 'Ang Panggagahasa kay Fe' (2009), 'Debosyon' (2013) and 'An Kubo sa Kawayanan' (2015).
The first thing I confirmed after watching the film is that with it the director has taken the potentially risky step of including in his script large sections of poetry by Filipino feminist writers, in addition to in-depth classroom debates on topics such as the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice and the nature of cinema.
Although there are a couple of clumsy moments of exposition towards the endings, which slightly break the spell, Yapan's strategy pays off thanks to excellent image and sound editing, overlaying charming dance sequences with well-chosen poetry readings and literary debates that say everything about the repressed emotions swirling around the main actors.
I was then able to see through my eyes what I read in the press about this film, shown as part of the Official Selection of the 2011 Hawaii International Film Festival, and which I consider to be much more than a gay film, as it manages to address gender roles and how dance and the small gestures that construct it become a means of communication and sexual expression, and an exploration of the game between Marlon, Dennis and Karen, its protagonists.
In this context, dance, poetry and desire serve as a vehicle to explore an unconventional love triangle that arises from the infatuation of a university student with his elegant literature teacher, who is about 40 years old.
With a well-crafted atmosphere of restricted eroticism persistent from the first scenes, I discovered that Marlon (Paulo Avelino), a student from a rich family who is doing poorly in his literature class, looks longingly at Karen (Jean Garcia), his teacher of that subject.
For several days Marlon follows Karen to discover that she also works as a choreographer and classical dance teacher. Eager to impress her, he hires Dennis (Rocco Nacino), his classmate who attends Karen's dance classes, whom he asks to teach him how to dance as his private tutor, without her knowing.
Wanting to get her attention, Marlon plans to sign up as a newcomer and impress Karen with his natural ability, after learning the dance moves in advance.
Urged by Karen, Dennis will inform that Marlon enrolled in her class to be close to her. Then the woman confronts Marlon. Marlon feels betrayed by Dennis, revealing his closeness to his classmate, whom he now considers a friend. By then, Marlon and Dennis have become inseparable in tackling the complexities of poetry and dance. They would even talk during their dance classes about how to make sense of the poems for the subject taught by Karen.
As he learns how his body should move, Marlon begins to understand the intersections between poetry and dance.
Marlon will come to understand how the poems are testimonies of Karen's choice to live the life of an artist who chooses to remain single, rather than marry into luxury. Her only passion is her dancing. To support her art, Karen teaches literature and choreography for block parties, weddings, baptisms, and other secular events.
Through their lessons, the two young men become closer, but Dennis begins to have feelings for Marlon that go beyond the friendship that Marlon does not reciprocate. Soon their friendship becomes strained and Marlon can't understand why. It is only through dance that Marlon is finally able to express what he cannot say in words to Dennis.
The two male actors capture all the curiosity and naivety of young people learning the rules and repercussions of attraction. For her part, Garcia quietly plays the older, attractive, single woman whose true feelings remain tantalizingly ambiguous.
Possessing a great deal of romanticism, the film focuses mainly on poetry, dance and art rather than the loveless relationship between the two male leads. Dennis, Marlon and Karen are transfigured into a medium to convey a love affair with the arts, lovingly enunciating every word of every poem, every twist and sleight of hand evoking a torrent of emotions none of them will ever be able to say.
I don't know how many times I've watched the film since then. Every time the images roll before my eyes I realize that 'Ang Sayaw ng Dalawang Kaliwang Paa' is a striking film in which the delicately constructed dance of desire becomes an indication of homosexual attraction that arises as Marlon's lessons with Dennis intensify, producing the expected result of attracting Karen's attention to the stage.
I am pleased with how the stories of the three protagonists are intertwined, each carefully told and fused together through words, shapes and movements. Art unites all three. There are almost never overt displays of physical or verbal intimacy. It is only through dance that the trio of characters shout out their most intimate and repressed desires.
Little by little I can see how Marlon's love interest moves from one to the other. The relationship between him and Dennis is not openly stated. Only through their looks and gestures, particularly during their dances, can I see the growing sexual tension. Marlon uses movement to express his longing for his dance partner. It is impressive how Alvin Yapan, who is also the screenwriter, makes use of the kineticism of each touch, of sliding and grabbing, to represent the desire that consumes Marlon.
Karen emerges as their guide, an orchestrator who never imposes herself. She embodies the feminist poetry she teaches and simply aims to reveal what we can all appreciate: a hidden passion so palpable that it gives weight to every step and posture of her performances.
At one point in the footage, Karen invites Marlon to dance with her, but in the middle of the dance, she passes him to Dennis. The dance culminates with Marlon and Dennis dancing, as a preamble to the final scene of the film, in which the two will assume the roles of Humadapnon and Sunmasakay on stage.
While the poems focus on the personal relationships between men and women involved in a power struggle, the dance performances will materialize the contest between two dancers. Who will take the lead? The one who assumes the role of a woman or the one who assumes the role of a man? In my opinion, this is the core of the film.
I find the use of Panay Bukidnon's epic Humadapnon to support gay criticism in popular literature highly interesting. The choreography explores the difference between Western and Eastern dance, one oriented towards the sky and the other oriented towards the earth.
Technically proficient, the film's scenes are carefully edited and the dance sequences, choreographed by Eli Jacinto, are beautifully shot, which is almost an achievement in itself.
'Ang Sayaw ng Dalawang Kaliwang Paa' is a dazzling waltz in the burning fires of desire. I can, as a viewer, feel the anguish that each of the protagonists feels. Ultimately, the film is a cultural triumph that highlights the achievements of Filipinos in poetry, architecture and dance.
Excellently produced despite its modest budget, the film features engaging visuals by lenser Arvin Viola and an eclectic score by Christine Muyco and Jema Pamintuan that works harmoniously with elements of poetry and dance to lend a metaphysical atmosphere to the proceedings.
I highly value how through the kinetic interpretation of the lyricism of poetry, the film becomes the first Philippine film to be adapted from poetry. In 'Ang Sayaw ng Dalawang Kaliwang Paa' dance and poetry join hands, using the works of leading Filipino feminist poets to talk about the plight of dancers and artists, particularly the marginalized ones.
Another thing to take into consideration is that 'Ang Sayaw ng Dalawang Kaliwang Paa' is about artistic pursuit and the status of artists in a third world country. Set on the FEU campus, home of Art Deco architecture, the film seamlessly fuses poetry and dance in an everyday setting, questioning the place of art and its role in our lives. The film also focuses on how the arts are taught in a country where such subjects are relegated to the background.
I will not tire of saying that with the film, for the first time, Philippine cinema explores the marriage of poetry and dance. Poetry as a more lyrical medium compared to fiction, lends itself more appropriately to dance performances. Focusing on feminist poems rather than just focusing on feminist issues, the film explores how feminists and members of the LGBT+ community share some commonalities in their advocacy activities.

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Depressing, confusing, exhausting and... very blue science fiction short film

On high school graduation day, young Fan Lai throws himself into the Pacific Ocean and memories of Tao-Yang Cheng return.
Lai has a secret love for Cheng, but Cheng already has a girlfriend. Lai is forced to reveal his feelings for Cheng and the nightmare begins.
On graduation day, should Lai let the sea take him away?
Using the Depression, Blue and Ocean trilogy, in his debut feature, To Kao films a depressing, confusing, exhausting and... very blue science fiction short film.
The film has great potential and cinematography, but I find the story too classic and disappointing.
I can immediately realize that it was all a dream. The short film is worth seeing for the use of water as a metaphor, for the incredible view of the sea, for the beautiful photography.
In the film, the filmmaker who graduated from Kun Shan University in Tainan, Taiwan, addresses the theme of unrequited love that turns everyday high school life into a thriller, but I don't find it satisfying or memorable as a whole.
In my opinion, the biggest flaw (unless it was a pointless art film) is that the story doesn't try to leave a message. If the meaning were a message, maybe everything would be memorable, even if it were a dream.

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To be or come out of the closet, that is the dilemma!

Set in the present day in a Chinese university, the romantic and youth film 'To You, for Me' is an example of the best of Chinese queer science fiction, in the manner of the series 'I'll Turn Back This Time' (2025), and the films 'Shao Ling Bi' ('Mermaid's Jade', 2019), by Zhang Kai Qiang, and 'Star Appeal', by Cui Zi En, among many others.
With a plot that invites both enjoyment and reflection, 'To You, for Me' divides its 26 minutes into four acts, to tell us about a relationship between Ian (Ian Lao) and Paul (Paul Wong), two university students.
Written and directed by Symenie Kam and Kitty Wu, the first act explores the jealousy and shame that homosexuals often suffer from publicly recognizing themselves as such, themes that are the reality of many.
The plot immediately introduces us to the story from the moment the two boys meet, while playing the popular game of hide-and-seek in the student residence.
Independently, both decide to hide in a closet that, due to its small size, does not have space to house both of them, so Ian will demand that Paul find another place to hide and thus prevent both from being caught by the pursuers.
The friendship between both protagonists is quickly built from the unexpected meeting. And what begins as a simple game quickly turns into a secret and unconfessed love for each other, triggering unexpected conflicts and testing the strength of the relationship. While Ian is more open to acknowledging that he is in love with his friend, Paul is unable to acknowledge his feelings, so he agrees to have a heterosexual relationship with Sofia (Sabrina Tam) to avoid being singled out by his classmates.
The relationship between the two protagonists is abruptly interrupted by a tragedy that forces Ian to go back in time to precisely the moment when the two boys met in the closet during the game of hide-and-seek.
The second act addresses the theme of the established gay couple, but in which one of the two boys is not ready to come out of the closet and asks his beloved for time.
After traveling in time, Ian agrees to share the closet with Paul while the pursuers try to discover where the other players are hiding.
As happened in the first act, the friendship between the two young people blossoms and the plot quickly leads us to Paul admitting that he is also in love with Ian and they both begin to live a secret relationship.
In this act the idea of ​​"being in the closet" is played with, because while Ian is not afraid to acknowledge his sexuality and considers, a year after starting the courtship, that the time has come to publicly acknowledge the relationship, Paul still feels confused and maladjusted in society, so he insists on still keeping the romance a secret. Despite being happy, Paul is embarrassed to hold Ian's hand and introduce him to his friends as his boyfriend, especially when everyone considers that Paul is a boy who attracts all women.
Since the reasons why Ian traveled in time have not been resolved, tragedy occurs that will force him once again to return to the moment when they both met.
Knowing the tragic outcome, in the third act, Ian will reject all of Paul's attempts to connect with his friend and lover. And tragedy ensues, but now, in the fourth act, it is Paul who travels back in time to give us a happy ending.
Despite its low budget, a script that seems to fulfill a university academic exercise, a non-professional cast that took its first steps in the world of acting with this film, and a shallow romantic content, I liked the plot for addressing topics such as second chances, choosing relationships, jumping in time and coming out or being out of the closet.
In summary: the plot line of 'To You, for Me' connects with the BL-loving public, because it is very close to their reality. Friendship, jealousy, gay shame, staying or coming out of the closet, self-discovery, acceptance, fidelity, love and the search for happiness, are essential values ​​and themes that resonate in our daily lives, seen from all perspectives. science fiction.
Furthermore, the story addresses strong themes that may be controversial, but through reflection they seek to transmit positive messages, always starting from truth and love. On the other hand, there are situations that will invite the viewer to reflect deeply on various aspects of life.

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Love can really change people

The Japanese director Daisuke Yamanouchi, one of the fundamental presences of audiovisual creation on his continent for three decades for his work in mainstream film, pink film, straight-to-video V-cinema and adult videos (AV), was deserving of the Jury Prize in the Off Theater Competition, at the Yubari International Fantastic Film Festival, in 1994 with her debut feature, the short film 'Blood Red Girls'.
He would then continue his artistic career as assistant director with Keita Amemiya on the 1995 fantasy film 'Moon Over Tao: Makaraga', the direct-to-video V-cinema productions, which usually involve extreme gore and horror, such as 'Red Room, Girl Hell', 1999 and 'Dead a Go! Go!'.
In 2002, Yamanouchi made his directorial debut in a pink film, with Maria Yumeno: 'Chō-inran onna no shiseikatsu', starring AV Idol Maria Yumeno.
At the 2006 Pink Grand Prix ceremony, she won the Best Picture Award, by virtue of her pink film 'Beautiful Lesbian Sisters: On the Day of Mourning'.
At this same Festival, five years later, he won a second award with his film 'Irokoi sata Sadako no bôken: Watashi no ai Shita shôgu-tachi yo'.
Yamanouchi also ventured a bit into the Japanese adult video (AV) field with studio Global Media Entertainment in 2005, directing four videos in their 'Boshisōkan yūgi' series, featuring older women and incest themes.
In addition to his work in pink cinema, Yamanouchi continued to write and direct dozens of V-cinema films, many of them in the horror and science fiction genres. In 2014, he was the editor of Yutaka Ikejima's film about a minor actor in the Japanese adult video (AV) industry, 'Oyaji Actor Z' (おやじ男優Z, Oyaji danyū Z).
Many still remember his 2019 film 'The Shortest Distance is Roundabout', which has two versions; "blanc", aimed at a youth audience, and "noir", for those over 18 years of age.
The release in July 2024 of his latest film, 'Heavens x Candy', is a good reason to suggest that MDL readers also get closer to the filmography of the Japanese author.
Family, human relationships, sex, affections, absences and otakus and their (mainly) online obsessions with love, games, anime and/or pornography, are the six pillars on which this film is based, supervised by Kasai Ami.
'Heavens x Candy' tells a story of pure love between two men who have never known love: a shy boy and an audiovisual actor who get to know each other through "oshikatsu" (fan activities).
On his way back from an event for fans of the popular anime series "Heavens x Candy", Hibiki Takato (played by newcomer Taisei), a 2D otaku with a reserved personality at twenty, visits a cafe that is a sacred place for fans but he forgets his wallet and leaves there without paying.
Amemiya Towa (Mukai Riku), who shares similar otaku tendencies and a love for "Heaven's x Candy", and who is at the cafeteria for the same purpose, accompanied by her stylist Satochi (Matsumoto Takuya, 'Fujoshi, Ukkari Gei ni Kokuru ', 2019), pays the bill for him.
The next day, they both meet at the cafeteria when Takato returns with the money and Towa to drink the banana smoothie that the establishment sells and which is also praised in the audiovisual preferred by the two young people. Once agreed, they go to the lighthouse that appears in the anime to continue the pilgrimage.
Towa, known for playing Haruto in 'The Shortest Distance Is Round', strongly suggests that the two go to another sacred place, a love hotel. There, as they express their love for each other, Towa reveals that he is a popular straight porn actor. Meanwhile, Takato recognizes the reason why he locked himself up like a hermit in his house.
I also liked the side story of Yusuke (Takemoto Taishi), Takato's father, and his partner Shinya (Yuki Shun).
Takato represents a widespread phenomenon in Japan, particularly among young men who cannot access university studies, and are seen by their embarrassed parents as disabled people or useless failures who should be "hidden in the back room".
I am struck by how in the film we see the opposite, with a tolerant father who encourages his own hermit son, who has not left the house for four years after his mother's death, and how he is happy when he leaves out of the shell after falling in love with another boy.
I liked the 'otaku' character concept of the character played by Taisei, a shy and lonely twenty-something, uncommunicative and unemployed ('Otaku can mean 'home', as in 'homebound', an insult).
Although the film could use a little more depth in the story, I liked how the two main characters manage to change thanks to love, serving as a motivation for personal growth, as a source of inspiration to improve behaviors and attitudes. Takato, for example, was able to develop self-esteem, which led to greater happiness and satisfaction in life. He was able to leave his hermit life and look for a job to become independent from his father.
Towa, for his part, quit a job that did not satisfy him, because despite having a lot of sex thanks to his work as a porn actor, he had never experienced love.
Likewise, the love that arises between Towa and Takato allowed them a change in perspective, allowing both to see the world in a different way, adopting a more positive and empathetic perspective, just as they were able to overcome fears and insecurities and bring them to a better place. greater self-confidence.

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Pioneering Chinese queer cinema in not having a fixed protagonist

The long-haired rent boy from Shanghai, the middle-aged lady who settled in the city upon arrival and today works hard to earn money, the young man who broke up with his ex who never returned to his hometown and now works as a pimp middle-aged, a bald and perverted old prostitute, a laid-off worker who once acted as a guest star and now runs a sexually transmitted disease clinic, the gay husband of a laid-off worker and their modest son, the introverted and taciturn son of a worker farewell who kept company with a puppy found on the road, the murderous gangster disguised as a member of the joint defense team, the young woman from Yunnan who asked for directions to the Bund, the Zhabei girl who works as a prostitute, the taxi passenger, the beautiful girl from out of town who took her younger brother and her boyfriend to a small town south of the Yangtze River...
Before 'Babel' and 'Crash', the American films directed, the first by Alejandro González Iñárritu in 2006 and the second in 2004 by Paul Haggis, achieved international success due to their main characteristic of not having a fixed protagonist, and being benefited by the presence of Brad Pitt in one case and the Hollywood studio system in the other, 'Welcome to Destination Shanghai', the docudrama written and directed in 2003 by Chinese filmmaker Cheng Yusu also does not have a single protagonist.
Premiered at the 32nd Rotterdam International Film Festival in the Netherlands, then screened at the 27th Hong Kong International Film Festival, the film, starring Yang Zhiying, Cui Zi'en, Xiong Dailin, Yi Jin and other actors and Chinese actresses, cross stories, intermingle lives of queer characters in their daily lives on the streets of the important Chinese city.
Winner of the FIPRESCI Award from the International Association of Film Critics and the Fipzig National Film Critics Award, through a collection of vignettes involving male prostitutes, elderly prostitutes and other sex trade workers, Shi Yue's precise photography combines the Shanghai on the Bund with the Shanghai on the Suzhou River, the ever-changing political Shanghai with the ever-changing economic Shanghai, the Shanghai with Chinese characteristics and the Shanghai in the process of globalization, the people common Shanghai and the people of prosperous Shanghai to present realistic Shanghai and allegorical Shanghai in a somewhat linear, full and white manner, forming a group of postmodern Shanghai images with various expressions and charms.

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Intimate, highly stylized and experimental docudrama from queer Chinese filmmaker Cui Zi En

'Night Scene' is a highly intimate, highly stylized and experimental docudrama from filmmaker Cui Zi En, one of the most prominent cultural figures in the Chinese queer community, which focuses on male sex workers in Beijing.
Camera in hand, the director descends into parks, nightclubs and other public spaces to interview both real-life "rent boys" and actors posing as male prostitutes.
In this work Cui Zi En manages to scrutinize one of the greatest taboos of contemporary China: male street prostitution.
The film becomes a unique portrait of a twilight world in parks and nightclubs, which oscillates between documentary and fiction. Cui filmed gigolos and real actors playing homosexual prostitutes, without detailing precisely who is real and who is not. There is no strict distinction between homosexuals and prostitutes, nor any moral verdict. However, the director has filmed an ambiguous and layered film, as limitless as the lives of prostitutes in China.
Cui Zi'en's second film in four months is more of an expanded footnote to his memorable 2003 effort titled 'Feeding Boys, Anaya'. As in this work, 'Night Scene' investigates the lives of prostitutes on the streets of Beijing, here using the most subtle narrative to gather first-person interviews to document the clandestine sexual world of the Chinese capital.
While not as compelling as 'Feeding Boys, Anaya' and less formally interesting than 'The Narrow Path', Cui's one-take work, 'Night Scene' found a home at the same festivals that have regularly showcased his work, as well as the support of critics and the public.
The docudrama explores the construction of queer discourse in China through the lens of male prostitution, and thanks to a fragmented and layered narrative that is combined with diverse perspectives and polyphonic voices, giving rise to all these representations being presented in one performance highly conscious that it needs to be put into context: that is, China's queer visual discourse, which is constantly under construction and in need of self-criticism.
Presented in the Official Selection of the International Film Festival Rotterdam, 2005, Busan International Film Festival, 2004, Viennale, 2004, and Frameline: San Francisco International LGBTQ Film Festival, 2005, the documentary collects confessions of sex workers as they speak directly to the camera, but it also features some fake scenes.
I draw the viewer's attention, because since all the false scenes are located in the footage at the beginning of the film, we can come to believe that we are actually watching a fiction film and not a docudrama.
The line between fact and fiction is blurred from the start, but in some ways the faux approach helped make the more intimate, one-on-one scenes with the sex workers feel much more vulnerable and personal.
Cui Zi En shows mastery of an intimately embodied vision, the effective use of the haptic camera, reflective performances and subjective editing strategies, characteristic features of his work, with which he manages not only to present alternative perspectives on issues of identity from within of queer communities but, more significantly, practices a boldly performative and intimately engaged mode of documentary filmmaking, and in the process challenges the very distinction between documentary and fiction, truth and opinion, self and other.
Its embodied approach not only demonstrates the potential for minority discourses to actively and critically engage with social reality, but also represents an important direction – that of increasing reflexivity – for the continued development of documentary film in China.
The candid confessions of all those interviewed offer a glimpse into the culture of street sex workers in the Chinese capital, touching on common themes such as gay rights, class disparities and the search for true romance.
The docudrama also follows a gripping story about a young man named Yangyang, who discovers that his father is gay. The boy sets out to investigate his father's hidden past and confronts his secret partner Xiaoyong in the process. At the same time, in all this confusion, Yangyang is surprised to discover that she also falls in love with a boy, Haobin. But his world falls apart when, after a while, he discovers what his friend really does.

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Beautiful, interesting and incredible cinema

The innovative Chinese filmmaker, film scholar, screenwriter, novelist, activist and gay academic Cui Zi En, known worldwide for his films 'Zhi tongzhi' (2009), 'Jiu yue' (2001), 'Feeding Boys, Ayaya' (2003 ), 'Nannan nünü - Nan Nan Nü Nü' ('Men and Women'), 1999, 'Queer China, Comrade China' (2008), among others, makes a surprisingly transgressive debut in 'Chou jue deng chang' ('Enter the Clowns').
Inspired by the likes of Andy Warhol and Rainer Werner Fassbinder, but set in a specifically Chinese context, the filmmaker, novelist and queer activist adapts his own novel of the same name to explore sexual identity and gender through a series of vignettes about transgender people.
Made in 2001 in digital format, the film, of the dramatic genre, which does not shy away from showing extreme sexual content, eroticism and nudity, revolves around mothers who change their sex, dissatisfied wives who seek solace in the arms of any other man and other transgressions of propriety, when in 82 minutes straight, gay and gender-fluid Beijingers unleash a whirlwind of transsexual mayhem in this groundbreaking debut from the noted filmmaker queer from China.
Our protagonist, Xiao Bo (played by Yu Bo) lives in a world where the lines that define men and women are constantly dissolving.
His father has transitioned and wants to be called mom (both characters played by Zi'en Cui himself). On her deathbed, she insists on having oral sex with her son. And Xiao Bo fulfills the dying woman's last wish.
His boyfriend has also changed his sex and now goes by the name Nana (Narenqimuge), but Xiao Bo no longer finds her attractive as a woman.
Other acquaintances of Xiao Bo also undergo gender transition as Xiao deals with her loss, and Nana becomes disheartened at the prospect of never finding suitable man.
In this context, a sexual chain reaction occurs that wreaks havoc on the traditional Chinese roles that govern men and women, parents and children.
Presented at the International Film Festival Rotterdam 2003, San Sebastián International Film Festival 2011, Buenos Aires International Festival of Independent Cinema (BAFICI), 2004, Vancouver International Film Festival (VIFF), 2003, Jeonju International Film Festival 2002, Ghent Film Festival, 2003 , Frameline: San Francisco International LGBTQ Film Festival, 2003, the film, produced by Cuizi Film Studio and with a artistic photography by Deqiang Yuan, conveys a sensation of avant-garde cinema and inaugurated a new way of making queer Chinese cinema.
'Chou jue deng chang' ('Enter the Clowns') is a film that says that everything you know or think you know about sexual identity and gender orientation is wrong, that you should rethink everything, while definitively installing Cui Zi En in the international pantheon of queer filmmakers on a global scale.

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An important and comprehensive historical record of the queer movement in modern China

Directed in 2009 by Cui Zi En, China's most prolific celebrated gay filmmaker, 'Queer China, "Comrade" China' documents the history of the queer community in the People's Republic of China from the 1984s to the 2000s.
Premiered on the opening night of the 2009 Shanghai Queer Film Festival (Festival that carried that name until 2012, but as of 2016 began to be called ShanghaiPRIDE Film Festival), the first LGBT pride festival instituted in China and second in importance in the Asian nation After the Beijing Love Queer Cinema Week (previously Beijing Queer Film Festival, since 2001), the documentary 'Queer China, Comrade China' was recognized as the most authoritative account of the story queer culture in China to date.
Presented at the Vancouver International Film Festival and Busan International Film Festival in 2009, the film uses a chapter structure (like a history book) to document advances in rights, literature and the arts, community and LGBT+ activism in this long period of that nation's history.
Through many exclusive interviews with more than three dozen prominent queer activists, academics and filmmakers, including Cui Zi En himself, Shi Tou, Li Yinhe and Zhang Yuan, as well as the use of historical archival material, the documentary becomes a record important and comprehensive history of the queer movement in modern China.
China's leading queer theorist, activist and academic includes rarely seen footage of the first appearance of gays and lesbians on Chinese state television in the documentary, including several featuring the documentary film's director himself.
'Queer China, "Comrade" China' documents the changes and developments in lesbian/gay/bisexual/transgender culture that have taken place in China over the past 80 years up to the time of its release.
Like never before, this film explores the historical milestones and ongoing advocacy efforts of the Chinese LGBT community.
The film examines how changing attitudes in the law, media and education have transformed queer culture from an unspeakable taboo to an accepted social identity.
The film culminates with the submission of Dr. Li Yinhe's same-sex marriage bill to the Legislative Affairs Commission of the National People's Congress of China, the highest legislative body of the People's Republic of China in 2003, a milestone important in the fight for the acceptance of queer identity in China.

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