FILM
A Bottom’s Own Story
Brazilian gay man exposes himself to most intimate of scrutiny
BY GARY M. KRAMER
Out gay fi lmmaker Gustavo
Vinagre’s “The Blue
Rose of Novalis,” codirected
with Rodrigo
Carneiro, is a mesmerizing documentary
about Marcelo Diorio, a
gay poet in São Paulo. This fi lm is
showing only once — as part of the
program “Veredas: A Generation
of Brazilian Filmmakers” — and
should not be missed.
Vinagre shrewdly opens — and
ends — his portrait of Marcelo
with images of the subject’s ass.
Much of Marcelo’s candid monologues
address the various things
he has done with — or has had
done to — it. But “The Blue Rose
of Novalis” never feels voyeuristic
or navel-gazing. Diorio is a fascinating,
ingratiating subject. He is
engaging whether rambling about
his family, musing about his HIV
status, or participating in sex acts
on camera. Vinagre showcases
him extremely well, capturing his
energy and essence with penetrating
close-ups as well as entertaining
visual digressions.
In a recent Skype interview, the
fi lmmaker talked about making
“The Blue Rose of Novalis.”
GARY M. KRAMER: Your fi lm
opens, closes, and is centered on
Marcelo’s ass. Can you talk about
this narrative thread?
GUSTAVO VINAGRE: That was
something that came naturally,
because we also love asses and it’s
a subject he likes to talk about.
His stories develop all around the
ass. We wanted to work on changing
the hierarchy of the body in the
fi lm. That’s why it begins with the
ass and the ass is upside down,
and ends with him with a tunnel
plug going into his ass as if we are
trying to search inside of him. We
wanted to work with the idea that
every part of the body is important,
and if the ass is important
to him then the ass is important
to the fi lm. The ass is a huge taboo
here and all over the world.
We really wanted to talk openly
about this hole that everyone has.
Marcelo Diorio looks at a painting of Novalis, the pseudonym of Georg Philipp Friedrich Freiherr von
Hardenberg, an 18th century poet, philospher, and mystic, in Gustavo Vinagre and Rodrigo Carneiro’s
“The Blue Rose of Novalis,” which screens at Lincoln Center on December 7 only.
It is really democratic in that everyone
uses it, but we have this
super-homophobic and religious
state telling us that it’s dirty and
we shouldn’t use it. We wanted to
put the ass in the light so everyone
can see it.
KRAMER: How did you work
with Marcelo regarding what stories
he told? And did you believe
everything Marcelo told you?
VINAGRE: I think I believe almost
everything he says. He has
the soul of an actor I think —we
talk about that in the fi lm. He’s
good at dramatizing his own story
and that made him an attractive
subject. We did create things
together, like him looking at the
Novalis picture and saying, “Oh,
how I love myself!” So, the script
was a hybrid. We defi ned the
scenes, but Marcelo was free to tell
the story however he liked. It was a
really collaborative project.
KRAMER: Marcelo is HIV-positive,
and the fi lm addresses the
THE BLUE ROSE OF NOVALIS
“symbolic burden” of that as well
as his family’s homophobia, gay
stereotypes, and ideas of suffering
and martyrdom. Was this fi lm
meant to be a form of confession or
a search for absolution?
VINAGRE: That’s a great point
of view. To us, it was important to
start a fi lm with the HIV-positive
story. We wanted to normalize
that. We’re in a moment in Brazil,
one out of every four gay men
is HIV-positive and no one talks
about it. No one is publicly saying
that I have HIV, and it’s 2019 and
people have to hide that as if it is a
big deal. But it becomes a big deal
because people are closeted about
it. AIDS is horrible in Brazilians’
minds, and there is still a great
fear. We had to put it in the beginning
of the fi lm, so people didn’t
think that AIDS is why he is this
way.
KRAMER: You have some inventive
scenes that divert from
Marcelo’s monologue — from a
funeral to images of childhood being
projected on Marcelo’s masked
face, to him in heels and a skirt
working on a car engine. Can you
talk about these scenes?
VINAGRE: It’s bringing his desires,
dreams, memories, and fetishes
to the surface. The images
we project on his face refl ect how
Marcelo tells the story of his family
and how he became what he is
through his family. He’s that child
still in a way. It’s Freudian.
The scene with the car is also
about trying to get the pieces of
this family and these memories
and destroy this idea of a macho
man and how Marcelo built himself
in opposition to this. Marcelo
is so open. He knows he’s narcissistic,
but he’s not ashamed of it.
KRAMER: Can you discuss the
sex scenes in the fi lm? It’s amusing
when Marcelo talks to the camera
while being fucked. Another sequence
is a highly stylized bit in
which he fellates a masked hunk
who comes all over his face.
VINAGRE: The fi rst sex scene is
interesting because it is completely
fake. He talks to the camera and
it gets silent, so you don’t hear the
guy he’s with breathing. Marcelo
is saying he uses these guys and
pretends that they are the best he’s
ever met. He’s saying he’s in power,
but he’s submissive. I felt when
they hug each other there was a
truth to that connection.
I don’t trust what he’s saying —
that he is in power with these guys.
He’s projecting what he would like
to have. He has this need for love
and attention, and when it’s over
you see this fragility. The second
sex scene was more about Marcelo
trying to fi nd this catharsis that
he talks about through the whole
fi lm. It’s his frustration of wanting
to live in a romantic world, but he
is actually living in a kitsch world.
THE BLUE ROSE OF NOVALIS |
Directed by Gustavo Vinagre and
Rodrigo Carneiro | In Portuguese,
with English subtitles | Dec. 7 at 7
p.m. | Film at Lincoln Center, Elinor
Bunin Munroe Film Center, 144 W.
65th St. | fi lmlinc.org
December 5 - December 1 32 8, 2019 | GayCityNews.com
/lmlinc.org
/GayCityNews.com
