Queer stories in coming-of-age films have become pretty well trod territory. Since the early days of Beautiful Thing and Edge of Seventeen, countless young queer characters have stepped out of the closet and found their first loves on-screen. It now begs the question, what other takes can we see within this film genre? Luckily, SUBLIME has the answer, telling a freshly told and grounded coming-of-age story by filmmaker Mariano Biasin that is filled with naturalistic and compelling performances from its young cast.

Biasin has remarked that the idea for SUBLIME was born out of a character waking up from a confusing dream, which had the power to put his most valuable friendship in danger. This of course manifests for Manu (Martin Muller), who suddenly finds himself dreaming intimately about his childhood best friend, Felipe (Teo Inama Chiabrando). Suddenly every interaction sends Manu into a frenzy of emotions, debating whether Felipe may reciprocate in any way. This is especially tricky when they spend so much time together, whether this is band practice, song writing sessions or to Manu’s increasing hesitation, talking about other girls.

Part of what makes SUBLIME such a refreshing watch is how Manu’s inner conflict does not derive from Felipe being a boy, but instead from him being his best friend. As Biasin stated in our interviews (available now on the DVD and PeccadilloPOD), “in this film there is no struggle with sexuality or bullying. Manu is not ashamed of what he’s feeling […] but he doesn’t want to ruin the friendship.” In not dwelling on the familiar subject of coming out to yourself and others, the film finds a richer driving force for the characters as they deal with their developing feelings. Even Manu’s father treats Manu’s feelings with sincerity and humour, rather than focusing on them being for another boy.

Also pivotal to the film’s success was Biasin’s age-appropriate approach to casting. It wisely avoids casting actors older than the age they were portraying as is highly common in other coming-of-age stories. Biasin asserted that “this story is so intimate and delicate that I wanted it to be realistic and so I wanted the actors to be really close to the age of the characters.” This meant that a COVID delay in production forced casting to be restarted, as many candidates were already too old for the characters.

However, in some ways this was a blessing for Biasin and the film, as the delay meant that Muller was now the perfect age for Manu. Muller puts in an exceptionally expressive yet grounded performance, wordlessly expressing Manu’s inner torment and confusion through his face alone as his feelings for Felipe grow. He makes for a compelling scene partner to Inama Chiabrando’s Felipe, whose easy-going charm and “inner fire” (as described by Biasin) make it easy to see why Manu is falling for him. Their natural performances and sweet chemistry together make a great case for why this kind of age-appropriate casting can be important to the success of a coming-age film.

We can only hope that future stories of queer youth finding themselves can present their characters with the natural touch that SUBLIME does. For now, Biasin’s film is a leading example that deserves a place in the queer coming-of-age canon.

SUBLIME is available now on DVD and On Demand.

Even at a time where gay characters on film and television continue to light up the screen, their sex lives tend to remain behind the curtain. Gay sex and nudity on screen are often still a taboo, as we see in even the most iconic gay films when they opt to tastefully cut away before things get too racy. Thankfully, this sanitised version of queer cinema is nowhere to be seen in Peccadillo’s sexy new gay cowboy flick, LONESOME.  

Director Craig Boreham’s modern Western follows Casey (Josh Lavery), a country boy who runs from his demons to Sydney and loses himself in the city’s easy access to sex and pervasive loneliness. Boreham smartly takes the atmosphere and aesthetics of the genre and transplants them into present-day Australia to create this stylish snapshot of the queer community today. The isolation of the dusty-coloured landscapes is echoed by that same isolation Casey feels, going from hook-up to hook-up without finding any human connection. That is of course until he meets Tib (Zarif). 

Their instant sexual chemistry breaks past the walls both had built up and so showing the sex was vital. On our LONESOME episode of Peccadillo Sofa Club, Boreham explained that from the scripting stage that he intended to use sex scenes in a way that actively explores how sex can show the dynamics and emotions happening between the characters. For this, nudity was necessary and Boreham was keen to break this reluctance to show what he described as the somehow “sacred” naked male body on screen. The usual close-ups of moving body parts followed by a pan to a tree wouldn’t suffice!  

This freedom in showing the character’s bodies allows the sex scenes to not only develop Casey and Tib’s relationship, but to explore the other ways that gay men negotiate sex and sex spaces – whether it is transactional, out of aggression or a genuine connection. Josh Lavery even expressed that he’d often forget that he was acting naked until well after the cameras had cut. The way Casey navigates these sex spaces informs the character’s journey and shows how sex and nudity can be utilised for cinematic storytelling that is yes, titillating but also rich and rewarding.  

LONESOME is available now on DVD, Blu-ray and On Demand.

Hear more from Craig Boreham and Josh Lavery talking all things LONESOME in our special Peccadillo Sofa Club episode, hosted by Joel Simpson:

If you’re looking for other gay films that embrace gay sex and nudity on screen, check out some of these other Peccadillo titles!

Today we would like to join in Remembrance Day with a small tribute to all LGBTQI+ people who also participated in the First World War. Most members of our community had to hide their sexuality, which was illegal until 1967.

During World War One homosexuality was not in fact banned by British army regulations – this was not until 1955. However male homosexuality was illegal throughout the UK at this time, so most homosexual soldiers kept their sexuality secret. Homosexual soldiers who spoke openly about their sexuality were reported to their superiors for “indecency” and at least 230 soldiers were court-martialled and sent to prison for this. Many others were prosecuted and sentenced in civilian courts. As any evidence of homosexual acts meant corporal punishment or two years’ imprisonment, recordings of experiences are rare.

We have a few examples of LGBTQI+ people in the war. Arguably the most well-known are the poets Wilfred Owen and Siegfried Sassoon who met during their stay at Craiglockhart War Hospital, where they developed a strong relationship. It is suggested that the pair were homosexuals, although they kept their identities hidden at the time, post-war ‘love letters’ from Owen to Sassoon were discovered. Owen died tragically a week before the signing of the armistice and Sassoon survived the war. Their poems include ‘Anthem for Doomed Youth’, ‘Dulce et Decorum Est’, “Suicide in the Trenches” and “Aftermath”.

Surviving private correspondence from fellow poet, Rupert Brooke, indicated that he was attracted to both men and women, and that he had sexual relations with both during his lifetime. However, they also show that he struggled to understand and accept his bisexuality.

Ethel Mary Smyth was a suffragette and was briefly imprisoned for her activities in 1912. During WW1 she served with the British Red Cross in Italy and France, and trained as a radiographer. Prior to serving Ethel was known to have romantic relationships with women and frequently wore male clothing. It must be noted that although there was no direct law against female homosexuality, there were still risks involved.

Despite the importance of the historical moment of WW1 we do not have many cinematic examples of queer war stories. It is worth highlighting that even though it is not a queer film, the first gay kiss between two men dates back to 1927, in the film WINGS. The film, awarded Best Picture at the Oscars, follows the story of two soldiers Jack and Dave competing for the love of a girl before finding out their true love for each other. Throughout the film, the soldiers’ relationship is described as a friendship, but it is very clear that it is more of a romantic connection that ends with a dramatic kiss in each other’s arms. The final dialogue between the soldiers reveals the true nature of their relationship: ‘You know there is nothing in the world that means so much to me as your friendship’.

We also have the recent example of BENEDICTION, which portrays the experiences of the poet Siegfried Sassoon during the war who was hospitalised in a psychiatric institution for his anti-war stand.

A different perspective through the eyes of nurse Vera Brittain is the film TESTAMENT OF YOUTH, which without being an LGBTQI+ film, portrays in a secondary way Vera’s brother, Edward Brittain, who was awarded the Military Cross for his services at the Battle of the Somme in 1916, where more than 20,000 people died. Edward Brittain died in 1918. At the end of the war, Vera revealed that the day before his death her brother had been accused of homosexual activity, after a letter from him was opened by the censor. Historians now believe that he walked into enemy fire as a form of suicide.

The LGBTQI+ community remained hidden within the military until the year 2000 when the ban on homosexuality was lifted. Although we cannot change what has happened in the past, we can take a moment to remember those who risked their lives, in more ways than one, to serve and hope for a better future.

Please never forget:
Wilfred Owen, Siegfried Sassoon, Rupert Brooke, Ethel Mary Smyth, Alfred Boyd, Frederic Llewellyn, Lieutenant Wilfrid Marsden, F.R. West, Edward Brittain, E.M. Forster, May Toupie Lowther and Joseph Randall Ackerley amongst the many hidden heroes in World War 1.

How well did you know the fishing world from Malta before shooting the film?

Prior to making LUZZU, I knew very little about fishing in Malta. Not only that: I had never even gone fishing in my life! However, the beautiful and eclipsing world of Malta’s traditional fishermen has long captured my imagination. When I began my research for the film, I quickly saw that questions of family, fate, and sacrifice — things I wondered about in my own life —weighed on many fishermen.

I started going to sea with Jesmark and David, the real fisherman who became my leads, and filmed short documentaries as they worked. This was a way for me to learn their fishing methods: how every piece of equipment on their boats worked, how the nets should be laid in the sea, and the all various species of fish and their respective market value. These days also allowed Jesmark and David to get accustomed to the camera. I took great inspiration from these fishing expeditions and wrote the scenarios I encountered directly into the script. My only regret is that my standards for seafood were set unfairly high, eating only fresh catches from my leading men!

Your film offers a vivid example of the struggles one feels between tradition and modernity. Where do you stand?

I sympathize with Jesmark as he grapples with shedding this incredibly rich heritage that raised him. Our families provide a foundation of meaning in our lives. At the same time, they can limit our freedom, and the growth that may be necessary.

Jesmark’s boat is his connection to the past — generations of fathers and sons who’ve passed down this vessel with love and pride. But the LUZZU takes on new meaning for Jesmark as he comes of age in a rapidly modernizing country with no place for traditional fishermen. I think this kind of dilemma is often felt in immigrant families, my own included. My parents spoke Maltese to each other in our home, but felt teaching their children the language would hinder our assimilation in America. I don’t begrudge them, though it still strikes a certain sadness in me. It seems every family has a LUZZU. 

You worked with both actors and non-professional actors on LUZZU. How did you proceed?

From the outset, I knew that I had to cast non-actors in the fishermen roles. Doing so brought me the most singular joys of the entire project. Working with my casting director, Edward Said, we hit the streets. Fishermen do not have headshots, after all, and making inroads into various fishing communities was not always a straight path. After months of searching, Ed and I were dismayed not to have any bites on the line. A day before I was due to fly back to New York City, we were struck with an unusual bit of luck:

In Għar Lapsi, a tiny fishing hamlet in the south, we found Jesmark and David Scicluna — real life cousins and fishing partners. With little time for formalities, I asked if we could all go out on David’s boat together. At sea, I brought out my small camcorder and asked the fishermen to improvise a short scene: as soon as they began riffing off each other, it seemed the whole film clicked into place!

Both men had innate on-screen talent, not to mention authentic insight into these roles that they were born to play. Jesmark and David performed this short scene better than I had originally conceived it, proving how casting non-actors would elevate the entire project, imbuing an emotional honesty I could not otherwise achieve.

After this encounter, I was inspired to re-write large parts of my script to fit what I came to learn about Jesmark and David. When I returned to them a few months later, the fishermen had no idea what I had planned. It was a big risk! If they said “no,” I’d be back at square one. Jesmark and David had never acted, nor had much of an idea about what the process would require. But they seemed to like me well enough to let me stick around. From there, we rehearsed over many months — as with their audition, I would describe a scenario and let the guys improvise the dialogues without showing them a script. I recorded those improvs on my camcorder and then re-wrote the scripted scenes based on what we discovered through the filmed improvs.

While this was on-going, I was also on the lookout for a trained actress to play Denise, Jesmark’s on-screen wife. We scoured the island for upcoming talent, and I was blown away when I met Michela Farrugia, who was just twenty-one at the time. She’d dropped out of school at eighteen and committed herself wholly to the theater. I saw that Michela combined fierce intelligence with powerful emotional instincts; screen-testing Michela with Jesmark and David also proved her ability to seamlessly adjust to our improvised style. Michela explodes on-camera in LUZZU, her very first film appearance — and one I feel announces her as an actress with great potential on the international scene.

At times LUZZU feels almost documental, with a lot of realism. Are you attached to this aspect of cinema?

I am most moved by films that harness reality. For me, this is the greatest strength of moving images: showing the audience something compellingly real and unexpected.

In LUZZU, I strived to take the audience into multiple successive worlds they’d never encountered before. Years of research were necessary; I came to learn not just about traditional fishing in Malta, but also how the wider seafood industry operates, including its parallel shadow economies filled with smuggling, sabotage, and even “fish fraud,” as depicted in the film.

I was also eager to find ways for LUZZU to belong to our current moment, challenging the nostalgic view of fishing in the Mediterranean. Early in my research, I came to learn about the network of contracted labor from South and Southeast Asia — sea workers (like the character Uday) who travel the world to make their living in various marine-based industries. In Malta, these men are denied official residence status, and a kind of “handshake” loophole sees the men living just off-shore, on their boats. 

For the aging Maltese fishermen, many of whom do not have sons willing to take on the trade, these Asian men fill a necessary role — some even become like members of the fisherman’s family.

But the film is also very fictional and has beautiful emotional scenes, especially characters’ dilemmas and struggles. Who and what films are your inspirations?

The films of Italian neorealism were formative to my conception of what cinema can do. The works of De Sica, Visconti, and Rossellini are foundational inspirations for me. I’m particularly moved by these films, which offer not just an artistic expression but an ethical approach that elevates them beyond ordinary works of cinema. Giving testament to the lives of ordinary people, the use of non-actors and shooting in real locations — these films were timely, vital, and could offer both personal reflection and participate in a kind of national reckoning. Building to great emotional heights, but sparing us of moral judgments, what will happen to the heroes of neorealism seems always to be in the audience’s hands.

In LUZZU, I hope we’ve captured some of the electricity felt in these works of the neorealist canon, while also offering a modern energy in the filmmaking. One might see our film as continuing the line of thought that Visconti began in LA TERRA TREMA. Shot seventy years ago in a fishing village in Sicily, just a stone’s throw from Malta, Visconti’s film also stars non-actor fishermen. The grandeur of the traditional fishing world proves just as inspiring all these decades later, and it’s uncanny to see how Visconti’s film anticipates the headwinds that will come to batter the Mediterranean’s fishing families. And I can’t help but notice a passing resemblance between Visconti’s lead fisherman and our own Jesmark. 

It’s your first feature film, but you already have a lot of experience with short films and editing. How is it to direct your first film?

During production, I was haunted by parts of the script I’d never seemed to crack and rewrote key sections in the midst of shooting. Looking back, I now recognize that the problem facing the character Jesmark was the one I was struggling with in my own life. I wrote the script hoping to resolve something in my own experience, but was not ready to change; as a consequence, I was afraid to let Jesmark transform as he needed to. Though I could not comprehend its full meaning at the time, I wrote Jesmark the conclusion he required… stories have a way of eliciting the truth.

Rewriting while in production was not ideal, especially under the conditions of a scrappy microbudget film shoot. But I was aided by the unflagging support of my mentor and producer, Ramin Bahrani — who was himself in the midst of his India-set production THE WHITE TIGER — and by my dedicated team in Malta. We’d gathered some of the very finest craftspeople in the island’s film industry, so fiercely committed to work on this rare homegrown project that they even turned down jobs on the Terrence Malick film that was shooting concurrently in Malta!

Our breakneck twenty-five day shoot was underwritten by years of dogged preparation by my fantastic producing partners in Malta, Rebecca Anastasi and Oliver Mallia. Without an established independent film sector in Malta, we had to introduce new creative practices and logistical structures to support this kind of project. Approaching LUZZU with the mindset of a Hollywood production or even a European co-production would have doomed our efforts; drawing from my experience in NYC’s indie scene, and with insight from Bahrani’s own early lowbudget films, we honed the production around the absolute essentials. No matter what, we committed to making this film.

And while I don’t believe in leaving things to chance, I still felt an uncanny bolt of luck in each scene we filmed with our hero prop, Jesmark’s beautiful wooden LUZZU. It became a kind of talisman for our whole team. Driving my cinematographer Léo Lefèvre to set each morning, we were always happy when we had a LUZZU scene on the schedule: it was sure to be a good day.

In your presentation to Sundance you said that the film is about the pain of growing up. How so?

For Jesmark, becoming a father requires extraordinary sacrifice, far beyond what he could have imagined at the story’s outset. In the end, he’s able to find new purpose for himself and a way to give his son a real shot at survival. But doing so requires jettisoning parts of himself and forming an uneasy relationship with an industry he’d previously denounced. Jesmark is liberated in one sense, but transformation is always bittersweet because something is inevitably forfeited.

I began writing LUZZU around turning thirty years old; all of sudden, things that always seemed distant prospects — fatherhood, family life — seemed to be knocking at the door. I’m now thirtythree, though I still find this passing into adulthood mysterious. How do we become ourselves, and when do we know we’ve arrived?

Equality is something that we all strive for. With the LGBTQI+ community we know that things have improved for us considerably since 1967 but could we honestly say that we are “equal”?

We have a film that is shooting in New Zealand next year and one of its themes is the Anglican church and homosexuality, in research for the film the director has interviewed gay vicars in the UK church and an interesting line came from one respondent “we are allowed to bless Nuclear Submarines but not a loving gay relationship!”

This is a very open form of discrimination, one that we all live with. And it is perhaps LGBTQI+ youth who suffer inequality and discrimination the most. Far too many young people take their lives because of “sexuality”, sadly at a young age most do not have the support network that we create as we grow older. And out of all of those young people it is trans youth who have the largest hurdles to overcome. For those of us who are not trans it is very easy to not notice the casual discrimination that trans people are subject to on a daily basis. And the mention of “trans” tends to be the moment that many people switch off and lose interest – but bear with us.

We would love to take you on a journey and while the subject is an 18-year-old trans girl it is a universal story, in effect LOLA AND THE SEA is a family drama between father and daughter, it is a road movie and while the ending is uplifting it is also very honest – there is no easy option. And that’s why we loved it.

So cast aside any doubts you may have, open your heart and join us with Lola and experience the world through her eyes. You won’t be disappointed. By the way, LOLA AND THE SEA has a truly awesome soundtrack.

• A note from team Peccadillo x 

Just in case you need more convincing we hosted a live Peccadillo Sofa Club Q&A where we were joined by LOLA AND THE SEA director Laurent Michelli, lead actress Mya Bollaers hosted by the great Campbell X.

It’s available to view here if you missed it – these were some of our favourite reactions:

We are so very proud of this independent film and can’t wait for you all to see it.

LOLA AND THE SEA is Out Now on Peccadillo POD.

A film by Andrew Haigh

If you cast your mind back a decade ago, we had a royal wedding, the London riots and another year of same-sex marriage not being legal in England and Wales. However, it was on this week 10 years ago that WEEKEND premiered, and we honestly cannot quite believe it.

To say that this small independent film created a monumental shift in the world of cinema would be an understatement. We’ve gone on to see many films like WEEKEND, but it’s this title that managed to create a story of the modern gay experience whilst still resonating with the wider audiences, regardless of sexual orientation.

Andrew himself reflects “Can it really be ten years ago? WEEKEND will always be the film I hold closest to my heart and the way it has resonated with audiences over the years has meant everything to me.”

Over the years Haigh’s masterpiece has meant different things to different people, for some it has become a comfort film but for others it was catalyst that helped them come out.

Darryl Griffiths describes WEEKEND as “the film that broke me and ultimately built me back up to have the courage to say I’m gay. You can have all the budget and box office returns – but you can’t put a price tag on that impact. Getting to thank Tom Cullen personally at LFF 2019 a dream!”

Abiyasha seconds this describing that the film became “a way to understand myself. I’ve watched it 9 times already and it has become my yearly routine.”

• 

For many, the impact of the film is also reflective in their own work. Filmmaker Charlie Tidmas explains that “everything I’ve ever made and ever will make comes back to being influence by this film. Life-changing stuff!”

Writer Adam James says “Happy 10th birthday to the film that rocks my soul, warms and then promptly breaks my heart. Every time. Normalised gay representation, beautiful character dynamics and dialogue so natural, I wish it were a wine…”

We here at Peccadillo thoroughly enjoyed working on this film too! Peccadillo’s Founder Tom Abell reflects, “every so often, as we approach the release of a film, a title comes along that just catches the zeitgeist and you can feel the anticipation and excitement of the audience before the film is even released.

WEEKEND was the first film that did that for us. Just before the UK premiere at the London Film Festival I was chatting with Andrew, Tristan, Chris and Tom and I said, ‘this moment is going to change all our lives’ – and it did.”

“A huge thank you to everyone who pushed this little gay film out into the world. It certainly changed my life. I might even watch it again. It’s been a while…” – Andrew

You can rediscover WEEKEND on PeccadilloPOD