Friday, September 30, 2022

Bros: Love ain't pretty

Bros (2022) • View trailer
3.5 stars (out of five). Rated R, and quite generously, for relentless nudity, profanity and explicit sexual content
Available via: Movie theaters
By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 9.30.22

This is not your grandmother’s rom-com.

 

Billy Eichner and Nicholas Stoller’s boldly audacious dramedy is ground-breaking: not merely for its gender-appropriate casting, but also for the story’s unflinchingly candid depiction of modern-day love among (primarily) gay men.

 

Bobby (Billy Eichner, standing) floats an idea to his fellow museum board members:
from left, Angela (Ts Madison), Wanda (Miss Lawrence), Tamara (Eve Lindley),
Robert (Jim Rash) and Cherry (Dot-Marie Jones). Alas, they aren't buying it...
Eichner and Stoller’s caustic, sharp-edged script also is wickedly funny, with the former — also starring as our key protagonist — demonstrating perfect comic timing with a relentless series of arch one-liners, aggrieved declamations and impassioned laments.

But conservative viewers be advised: The R rating is generous, given this film’s frequent and quite explicit sexual content. Although … ah … dangling bits remain off-camera, virtually nothing else is left to the viewer’s imagination.

 

The story actually is an amplification of the material Eichner has long delivered via stand-up and sketch comedy, notably on the long-running TV series Billy on the Street.

 

The setting is trendy New York, where Bobby Leiber (Eichner) has carved out a laudable, media-centric career as an observer and ferocious activist in the LGBTQ+ scene. He has a successful podcast, writes books, gives speeches, and frequently is recognized for his advocacy.

 

His newest project is massive, as a member of the board of a revolutionary, as-yet unfinished LGBTQIA+ Museum.

 

Bobby ideally would cast himself as a “personality,” despite the fact that his actual personality keeps getting in the way. He’s caustic, domineering, condescending and totally dismissive of outdated concepts such as “dating” and “love.” He’s 40 years old and defiantly proud of being a singleton.

 

He’s also — as quickly becomes obvious — his own worst enemy: wound tighter than a crystal radio coil, while suppressing a boatload of emotional baggage.

 

Trouble is, the personal lives of his friends are evolving, whether via marriage, families or polyamorous relationships such as throuples. Bobby feels increasingly left out … although he’d die before admitting as much.

 

By day — where finances for the LGBTQIA+ Museum are $5 million short, and nobody can agree upon what to put in the final display wing — he contemptuously dismisses suggestions from his fellow board members. Board chair Wanda (Miss Lawrence) remains a force of calm and coolness in the face of his histrionics; the others — Angela (Ts Madison), Cherry (Dot-Marie Jones), Robert (Jim Rash) and Tamara (Eve Lindley) — find it increasingly difficult to put up with him.

 

All five are distinct, strong-willed characters: each played persuasively. Sitting in on their meetings would be a treat (if occasionally explosive).

 

Then, while clubbing one night with best friend Henry (Guy Branum, excellent as a patient voice of reason), Bobby chances to lock eyes with a shirtless hunk on the dance floor. Moments later, Aaron (Luke MacFarlane) appears at his side. Despite radiating breathtakingly sensual, bro-y energy, Aaron is quiet and reserved; he’s clearly amused by Bobby, who — much to his surprise — is more than a little thunderstruck.

 

Is this the stuff from which a relationship could develop?

 

Hard to say.

 

Aaron is an estate agent: an occupation he loathes, despite being quite good at it. He’s otherwise at peace with himself, thanks to the loving support of his parents. That said, he’s not the slightest bit inclined to pursue the “bigger picture” of what it means to be gay in today’s America, as opposed to what it meant a century earlier, or even a couple of decades ago.

 

“We got AIDS,” Bobby bitterly observes, at one point, while eyeing some Gen Z youngsters. “They got Glee.”

 

The story subsequently follows a predictable rom-com path, with ups, downs, blow-ups, confessions, and baby steps toward what might be considered something “real.”

 

Alas, Bobby and Aaron take numerous detours along the way, while scratching libidinous itches. The frank depictions of these encounters are intense, feral and not the slightest bit tender: little more than a means of physical release. While probably no different from women who frequent bars with the specific intention of going home with whichever guy catches their eye, the emotional impact here is the same; it feels sad.

 

And unfulfilling … not that Bobby ever would admit as much. As for Aaron, he hasn’t really been searching for anything more meaningful, so it’s just business as usual.

 

We adore Aaron just as much as we pity Bobby. The perfectly sculpted MacFarlane plays him as a patient, oversized teddy bear. Aaron tolerates much, but is quick to bruise when Bobby goes too far; the pain in MacFarlane’s gaze, at such moments, is palpable.

 

And yet we also can tell that Bobby fascinates Aaron, who feels challenged — in a good way — by this two-legged bundles of neuroses.

 

Eichner unerringly navigates a razor-thin line. Every time Bobby’s unrestrained arrogance threatens to spiral out of control, he pulls back just enough to reveal a degree of vulnerability that bespeaks countless past traumas and frustrations. Even when Bobby’s words suggest otherwise, Eichner’s expression begs for help.

 

Stoller and co-producer Judd Apatow have long pushed the envelope of cinematic barriers — and good taste — and this genre-defying film is no different. Regardless of the genders involved, this level of salacious carnality most frequently is associated with erotic thrillers or sniggering sex comedies … but never, ever with rom-coms. 

 

The disconnect is amplified by visual and name-check references to You’ve Got Mail and When Harry Met Sally, among others, as a reminder of the genre’s traditionally gentler nature.

 

Eichner and Stoller also go too far at times. Although their film will be championed in progressive markets, a few elements — most notably a third-act argument about the appropriate age for exposing children to gender issues — seem gratuitous: inserted solely to enrage book-burning, history-shredding Republicans determined to reverse decades of social progress.

 

This ain’t gonna play in Florida and similar parts of the country.


But it is, nonetheless, a bold first step. If Bros feels too harsh and in-our-face, it springs from decades of anguish, frustration and disenfranchisement. And it’ll likely pave the way for future sets of filmmakers, who’ll make the statement more palatable to all viewers. 

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