+ interview with Jamie Babbit, director of But I'm a Cheerleader by Cynthia Fuchs
+ another review of But I'm a Cheerleader by Cynthia Fuchs
False Directions
Welcome to True Directions a rehabilitation camp
for the homosexually-inclined. The latest patient to
talk through its doors is 17-year-old Megan (Natasha
Lyonne), a popular high school cheerleader. An "A"
student, model daughter, and girlfriend to the
football team captain, Megan has lately begun to worry
her family and friends. They've noticed her "odd"
behaviors: she doesn't enjoy kissing her boyfriend,
her locker is adorned with swimsuit-issue pin-ups, a
Melissa Etheridge poster hangs on her wall, and she
likes tofu. So Megan's parents, Peter (Bud Cort) and
Nancy (Mink Stole), pack their daughter's bags and
send her off to homo rehab in hopes that she can be
transformed into a happy, normal heterosexual.
This is the absurd beginning of Jamie Babbit's But I'm a Cheerleader, an audience favorite on this
year's film festival circuit, including the San
Francisco and Los Angeles gay and lesbian film
festivals. But while gay viewers have embraced the
film, the national critics have been less than kind.
With the exception of Roger Ebert, who gave it a
"thumbs up," the reviews have been mixed. Elvis
Mitchell of the New York Times writes that
Cheerleader "belongs to that growing category of
film best described as 'It Would Have Made a Great
Sketch on Saturday Night Live or Mad TV'."
Entertainment Weekly's Owen Glieberman concurs,
giving the film an F and dismissing it as a
"poisonously smug, one-joke indie comedy."
As a comedy, Cheerleader is certainly a
disappointment. Despite its terrific premise, Brian
Wayne Peterson's script (from a story by Babbit) is
simply not funny or clever enough. Babbit's direction
is earnest, but lacks the sharp comic style of John
Waters or Alexander Payne (Citizen Ruth,
Election). Yet, the positive response the film is
generating from its queer audiences most likely has do
with what Babbit and Peterson are saying about gender
and sexuality rather than the way in which they say
it. Cheerleader exposes gender and sexual desire as
social performances learned over time. Once Megan
takes the first step in the True Directions protocol
by admitting, "I'm a homo!", she joins the other
straights-in-training who are trying to think, look,
and act "normal." Though behaving like proper girls
and boys has little effect on Megan and the other
patients, they still pretend that they are actually
heading down the path to heterosexuality.
Unfortunately, the comedy paving that illusory path
lacks an edge. The jokes about the five-step
rehabilitation program are strained. The guys learn to
engage in stereotypical manly behavior, like learning
to fix a car, throw a football, and play army. The
women spend most of their time boning up on their
domestic skills, like vacuuming the floor and taking
care of babies. And so, the characters are reduced to
a collection of gay and lesbian stereotypes, playing
at being heterosexual stereotypes. Whether these are
intentional or funny are two different and complicated
questions. In Cheerleader, the fine line between
laughing with and laughing at a butch lesbian with
a hairy upper lip or a gay Jewish boy who can't catch
a football becomes uncomfortably blurry. The humor is
simply too broad and consequently, the film's satire
is lost. Even Rachel Kamerman's stylized production
design, which plays off traditional gendering by color
(pink is for girls and blue is for boys), is too
obvious.
Equally ineffective is the character of Mary Brown,
the camp's program director (nicely played by Cathy
Moriarty). She is True Directions' Nurse Ratched, a
sadistic bully who is committed to turning around not
only her patients, but also her own son, Rock (the
hunky Eddie Cibrian, in a fine comic turn), who would
rather sip his orange juice through a straw than chug
it. But it's never exactly clear what motivates Mary
to convert gay and lesbian teenagers. Her son?
Ideology? Something in her own past? Some additional
information about her would help us understand why she
approaches the rehabilitation process with such a
vindictive attitude. The same goes for the ex-gay male
counselor Mike, played by a dragless RuPaul Charles,
who seems to lose his comic timing when he's not in a
dress.
Instead of the True Directions staff converting Megan
to heterosexuality, their deprogramming program has an
adverse effect and accelerates her "coming out"
process. She falls in love with fellow camper Graham
(Clea DuVall), who is only in rehab to appease her
hateful father. The rebellious Graham knows deep down
that she is a lesbian and that there is nothing wrong
with it. Lyonne and DuVall rise above the material,
bringing intensity and warmth to their characters'
relationship. Megan and Graham's mutual profession of
love is the most honest moment in the film,
underlining the pro-gay message that the film's comic
elements fail to deliver: your sexual orientation is a
natural and healthy part of who you are.
At its best, during such sincere moments (and some
comic ones), the film shows the pleasures of desire
while making its political points. For instance,
Babbit shoots Megan's fantasy about the other
cheerleaders in her squad, shot in slow motion, the
same technique used to objectify women in all those
teen pix about boys trying to get laid. And for the
most part, Babbit should be commended for taking a
comic approach. While studios churn out "gay" comedies
like In and Out and The Birdcage for mass (i.e.,
heterosexual) audiences, independent filmmakers treat
homosexuality as a serious subject. Although
Cheerleader has its problems, it may revive the
trend of independent gay and lesbian comedies that
began in early/mid-1990's with Go Fish and The
Incredibly True Adventures of Two Girls in Love.