The Thrill of a Queer Movie That Doesn’t Appeal to Anyone

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In this alternative setting, the phrase “Welcome to the Emerging Erotic Society” is displayed prominently on a screen, flanked by two extended crimson banners featuring an image of Jesus on the cross. Despite the graphic portrayal of Jesus’ body transforming into a large, veiny phallus, the crowd of approximately 700 individuals remains unfazed, seated in a vast concrete auditorium on tiered wooden platforms. Beneath their casual attire to combat the London cold – jackets, hats, and scarves – they wear leather chaps, harnesses, rubber outfits, and frilly undergarments. A ball gag hangs from one man’s neck, while a throuple, who wouldn’t seem out of place in an Anthropologie catalog, begins to get touchy-feely, the woman in the middle giving her companions a suggestive “almost time” smirk. However, they must endure the 100-minute film before the promised sex party can commence.

A large crowd is gathered at a multi-tiered location in Dalston for an event that combines a movie premiere with a party of a more intimate nature, centered around the screening of the film “The Visitor.” This film is the latest work from 61-year-old Canadian director Bruce LaBruce, who has spent over three decades crafting movies that straddle the boundary between cinema and erotica, or blatantly merge both into an entirely unique creation – vividly portraying sexual taboos with minimal narrative finesse.

Consider the narrative of “The Visitor,” where we find a Black refugee who accidentally lands on the River Thames’ shore and ends up living with an upper-class white family. However, this relationship isn’t conventional; he engages in intimate relations with every member of the family, sometimes individually and at other times with multiple family members together. This story might be more explicit than Bruce’s “Raspberry Reich” (2004), a film depicting a radical left-wing group in Berlin aiming to achieve revolution through sexual acts, interspersed with lectures from their female leader on the importance of carnal desire in overthrowing capitalism. However, it is less explicit than “Skin Flick” (1999), where neo-Nazis go on a violent spree of bisexual sexual assault against an affluent, interracial gay couple. The assailants carry a copy of “Mein Kampf.

Earlier that day, LaBruce shared with me that if he hadn’t pursued a career as an artist and filmmaker, he would likely have chosen to be a psychoanalyst. This conversation took place within the South London office of A/POLITICAL, the organization supporting his film. Seated on a higher floor, away from the basement where much of the explicit sex scenes in The Visitor were filmed, LaBruce was dressed in his signature attire: all black, large sunglasses, cropped hair, several rings on his fingers, and a Bloody Mary in hand.

Bruce’s films are shockingly explicit, with every conceivable bodily fluid depicted on-screen. Yet, I was taken aback by the demure audience I encountered in Dalston. Perhaps my surprise was unwarranted; later, I discovered that only a few of his films have faced protests or petitions, though some have been barred from film festivals. Bruce remarks that racial role-play, incest, and power uniform fantasies are among the most sought-after themes in pornography. His films, much like psychoanalysis, merely explore desires and fears that people already harbor. Ultimately, he aims to provide cinematic room for these primitive urges, hoping it will convince audiences that the world’s hatred towards migrants, women, and LGBTQ+ individuals stems from a deep-rooted self-hatred. “Sexual repression,” Bruce explains, “if left unaddressed, resurfaces in a grotesque form.

As a film aficionado with a soft spot for independent gay cinema, I’ve witnessed the evolution of queerness in mainstream media, from the captivating works of Luca Guadagnino and teen rom-coms like Heartstopper (one of Netflix’s most successful TV shows) to becoming increasingly present in popular culture. However, over the past year, I’ve grown concerned about the surge of queer cinema – it seems too polished, lacking the raw, messy authenticity that I crave.

Characters are often portrayed as too perfect, bodies idealized, politics simplified, romantic entanglements oversimplified, and sexual scenes sanitized. As a fan of both Guadagnino’s work and that of Bruce LaBruce, it’s clear that they appreciate the beauty in both worlds. But I’m grateful that LaBruce resists the urge to create something that appeals to the masses.

I long for him to stand as a barrier against the homogenization of queer sexuality in cinema. I yearn for him to serve as a testament that, even as we gain acceptance, our stories can still be unsettling, raw, and unconventional – a reminder of our uniqueness and complexity.

Upon learning that a year following its Berlinale debut, Bruce LaBruce was planning to transform the London premiere of The Visitor into a sex party, my excitement grew. He collaborated with renowned European fetish-party organizers Klub Verboten. Together, they discovered an intriguing venue – part theater, part dungeon – and decided to find out: How many would attend for the movie, and how many for the sexual encounter?

At the gathering, there’s Juju, a 48-year-old man adorned in traditional Scottish attire and a leather harness, expressing that he’s yet to watch a LaBruce movie but has attended six such events in the past year. He appreciates the sense of security he experiences among the LGBTQ+ community in these settings. Aisha, 25, alongside her partner adorned with a choke collar, shares she’s never been to a sex party before but had long intended to attend one. She chose this specific event due to LaBruce’s comments in an interview about how violence is commonly accepted in mainstream culture, while sexuality remains stigmatized. Fiyero, a 39-year-old originally from Italy, is present solely for the screening and thus dressed casually in denim jacket, jeans, and a T-shirt. He voices that this event serves as a form of resistance amidst a world that’s growing increasingly conservative. Fiyero questions the genuine political advancements claimed over recent years, stating they have been largely exaggerated.

He observes that many individuals are yet to express their identities openly, and even those who have, are still encountering difficulties in daily life. He emphasizes that they’re not aiming for public displays of sexuality; rather, they seek fundamental rights and necessities.

In a time when conversations about “kink at pride” and growing puritanism are prevalent, LaBruce is advocating for open sexual expression not just in the streets, but everywhere. At 61 years old, he has noticed the transformation Fiyero describes, where queer movements have transitioned from focusing on sexual freedom and solidarity with other radical groups to seeking acceptance within mainstream institutions such as marriage and the military. “You lose track of your original objectives,” LaBruce explains, “and you become the internal adversary.

Bruce LaBruce identifies himself as a punk provocateur rather than a revolutionary, yet his films consistently convey a clear message: suppression breeds aggression, and achieving personal freedom can lead to broader societal liberation. In particular, LaBruce is fascinated by the concept of family romance as proposed by Freud – the sexual tensions that fester within the insulated confines of the nuclear family. In the film “The Visitor“, LaBruce portrays the title character, played by drag and burlesque star Bishop Black, not as a destroyer but as an exposer of the repressed energy in the bourgeois, western lifestyle. The Visitor (who lacks a named character in the movie) symbolizes not just the fear of immigrants in the U.K. and other Western nations, but the outcome of true liberation – he is neither deeply unhappy nor sexually repressed.

In simpler terms, during a scene at dinner, the Father tells the Visitor that they’ve introduced a vibrant, youthful energy associated with homosexuality into his previously dull and gloomy existence. He also mentions that their intimate acts, which he refers to as sacred sex and oedipal interventions, have dismantled a society built on class struggles, imperialism, and slavery, leaving him deeply affected.

In a typical movie, a scene where characters discuss political issues might provoke sighs from viewers. However, within a LaBruce film, this particular scene – serving as an introduction to a sex party – was greeted with cheers that echoed off the 100-foot-high ceiling. It’s possible that it becomes more challenging to think objectively when your brain isn’t receiving much blood flow, or perhaps the scarcity of oxygen makes you ponder his point: A world without sexual passion and the chaos it stirs is drab, wet, and void of life.

In the final act of “The Visitor”, the sexual intensity seems to diminish. Instead of continuing his sexual exploration through the family, The Visitor decides to leave, seeking others who might benefit from his approach to sexual awakening. In the film’s closing scene, the Father is depicted standing nude and limp on a rock amidst a waterfall, isolated, expressing unfulfilled desire. Without The Visitor’s presence to spark him, he appears incapable of satisfying himself alone. This ending may symbolize director Bruce’s skepticism, particularly his disapproval of grandiose movements promoting an idealistic future, and his affinity for the philosophies of French philosopher and poet Jean Genet.

In his own words, LaBruce stated that he’d join revolutions worldwide, be it among the Palestinians or Black Panthers. However, as soon as these movements began to show signs of being controlled or institutionalized, he would not only withdraw his support but also oppose them. For him, revolution is an ongoing process, and once one ends, he moves on to the next one somewhere else. In essence, LaBruce sees revolution as a perpetual cycle.

In the auditorium of Dalston, the credits roll as the audience embarks on a journey through dimly lit corridors and descending several staircases before gathering in a basement with multiple rooms, all similarly dim. At the coat check, attendees deposit any clothing that doesn’t adhere to Klub Verboten’s dress code, which allows leather, latex, and rubber but not cosplay, military outfits, suits, “fancy dress,” cotton, or jeans. Earlier in the day, I had spent approximately £100 on a pair of small leather shorts and a collar from a sex shop in London’s gay neighborhood. The security personnel at the venue granted me entry to the after-party, but my friend nearly faced rejection until he took off his shorts and apologized.

Within the club’s interior, we swap our credit cards for pre-made, tropical cocktails, then scan the dance floor filled with around 30 people grooving to a soft techno beat played by a DJ. A few couples are locked in passionate embraces. At the room’s center, three steps elevated, event organizers have arranged a large bed and an upright frame adorned with straps, mimicking the Vitruvian Man’s stance. On the bed, a man is riding another woman vigorously, while his fingers move swiftly inside her, and another man is receiving an intense oral favor. My companion and I stand and observe, our attention occasionally disrupted by a security guard who approaches to remind us: If you’re not participating, it’s time to depart.

Leaving the intimate little corner, we return to the dance area. I danced for a while, searching aimlessly for someone to share a moment with. However, on the dance floor, a live feed from a screen above us played, showing our room with the bed, restraints, and oral activities. Thus, I mostly watched.

In a few weeks, The Visitor would make its debut in New York City. LaBruce searched for a location to replicate the premiere-night sex party, but could only secure a Brooklyn venue that was just half the size of the London auditorium. The subsequent event was scaled down as well – it took place at Singers, a popular LGBTQ+ bar, with a secluded backyard area enclosed by plastic curtains for those seeking privacy. However, it turned out to be quite chilly that evening; I’m not sure if anyone actually engaged in any sexual activities.

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2025-03-07 21:36