Vera is in a lot of ways typical of early LGBTQ movies. It centres on a youth character who doesn’t fit in with the rigid confines of pervasive sexual expression, aspires to empathize and understand them as they go through a discovery of identity aided by a love interest to latch onto, and it ultimately ends in tragedy underscored by the whiff of a message against discrimination. But these elements considered, Vera is also quite interesting in being a fairly early positive depiction of a transgender man -released in 1986- and certainly one of the first serious LGBTQ movies to come out of Brazil. Its lead actress, Ana Beatriz Nogueira won the Silver Bear award at that years’ Berlin Film Festival. And though I wouldn’t say it was an influence on later films like Boys Don’t Cry or The Danish Girl, it got to that story type before they did and did a better job with it. Though it is a “Bury Your Queers” movie, it’s a fairly sensitive one and in a few respects, ahead of its time.
Sadly this doesn’t extend to the title, which is the protagonist’s dead-name. I suspect the reason for this may be because the subject’s name used in the movie is different from his name in real life -though I also don’t understand why that was changed. He’s called Bauer here, though his real name was Anderson Bigode Herzer -an orphan raised in a terribly abusive institution who by his late teenage years was identifying as male and writing poetry. Eventually, he attained an internship with a prominent professor and politician and got a book of poetry published before his tragic suicide at twenty. The movie chronicles each of these while also exploring his relationships to the other students and teachers, and his romance with a girl he works alongside.
Nogueira is great in the role -easily one of the best performances of a trans character by a cis actor. She takes the assignment incredibly seriously, displaying honestly Bauer’s discomfort around his gendered social groups and outright embarrassment at being born female. Even as the narrative weaves certain tropes around him, Nogueira with respect to affect and body language, plays Bauer as a real person, with aspects and emotions that tie into his gender identity but are not determined by them. Part of this also comes from director Sérgio Toledo’s choice not to bog the film down in the transphobia. It’s certainly an institutional obstacle for Bauer, and the movie does show how it effects his life, but it seems more concerned with how Bauer survives such a poor child welfare system, where he and other kids essentially grow up as inmates of a prison. While he’s subject to certain prejudices from his fellow orphans, they all understand they’re under the same kind of oppression, and when one boy (kind of a bully) ages out of the system, he respects Bauer’s masculinity enough to appoint him the new protector for the others.
Parallel to this is a cute romantic arc between Bauer and Clara (Aida Leiner), who works alongside him in the office of Eduardo Suplicy (Raul Cortez). He falls for her pretty quickly while it takes her a little while to return those feelings -initially rejecting them out of hand. But she is extremely moved by one of his poems in which she is the subject, and in the romantic atmosphere of a nightclub date, admits her attraction. They become a sweet couple, albeit one tinged with a lot of insecurity on Bauer’s part. They will sleep together but not have sex, even though she wants to, because Bauer is so ashamed of his body. It culminates in a tender sequence played beautifully by Nogueira and Leiner, where she slowly seduces him into it, not turned off by his breasts or feminine features -but he is, and ultimately can’t go through with it. Seemingly in compensation of this, he becomes possessive of her, jealous of cis men she seems close with -something that during an argument she points out really does make him a man as awful as the rest. No matter what he can’t help feeling inadequate, the movie keenly illustrating this in a deep and personal way.
Toledo doesn’t actually depict Bauer’s suicide -in fact he doesn’t indulge in any violent imagery- and even the exact reasons are a bit nebulous beyond his mere misery and body dysmorphia. The filmmaking throughout is relatively compelling within the limited budget (there may be a certain degree of John Hughes influence even), but it is most interesting by the end, where Bauer’s death is portrayed as a kind of surreal scene within his mind, where he makes his way through a dark and cluttered alleyway before resigning himself and collapsing in a corner. It’s evocative and mesmerizing, characterizing the tragedy in unique and inherently interior terms. It may be the same old story, but Vera tells it in a distinct and earnest way.
Criterion Recommendation: Parting Glances (1986)
That very same year over in the United States came one of the first movies to openly discuss the AIDS crisis and its effect on the gay community. Directed by Bill Sherwood, who himself would succumb to AIDS four years later, Parting Glances is a sincere, bittersweet drama about a gay couple in New York during the last twenty-four hours before one of them, Robert (John Bolger), departs on a two-year work assignment in Africa. His partner Michael (Richard Ganoung) is dealing with complex feelings over this, while also caring for his AIDS-stricken ex Nick -played by a young Steve Buscemi in his scene-stealing breakout role. The movie does not skimp on its commentary about the epidemic and the government’s abhorrent inaction on it; but nor does it shy away from portraying the vital sense of community in the New York gay scene, and doing so through a strictly homoerotic lens. Compared to other LGBTQ movies of this era, it’s so clear this one was actually made by a gay man. And made with heart. Yes, Nick’s story is tragic, but Sherwood makes sure to convey what his loss will mean by showcasing what a colourful, meaningful personality he was. It’s a gay cinema touchstone sure, but it’s also genuine.
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