The Hanging Garden

(1998 Feature Film)

Starring
Chris Leavins and Joel S. Keller

Reviewed by Blase DiStefano




Just hanging around in The Hanging Garden:
the teenage Sweet William (Troy Veinotte, left)
and his friend Fletcher (Joel S. Keller).


Sweet William belongs to a dysfunctional family. If you're one of the fortunate few to not be privy to what this particular problem is like, you can enlighten yourself by seeing The Hanging Garden; if you are privy to it, you can identify with the main character's journey. Either way, you're in for a special treat.

William (Ian Parsons as Little Sweet William, Troy Veinotte as Teenage Sweet William, and Chris Leavins as Adult Sweet William), after being away from his rural home for 10 years, returns for his sister's wedding. Though he was an overweight and despondent teenager--and seriously in the closet--he has matured into an attractive and openly gay man.

Fletcher (Joel S. Keller), the kid he fondled back then, now makes eyes at the new William. Oh, and did I mention that Fletcher is the guy who is wedding William's sister!?

The Hanging Garden is dark, but funny and full of hope. Thom Fitzgerald, the film's writer, director, and producer, says, "In my heart I created The Hanging Garden to put out the message to unhappy people that no matter how much you hate your life and yourself in the current moment, it is possible to become the person you want to be, so hang in there."

He goes on to say, "In my head I approached the film structurally, hoping to create both a slice-of-life drama and a surrealist fantasy. The structuralist elements, from the rigid use of color and line to the pervasive flower metaphor, suggest that even the most ordinary lives also operate on a poetic level. Depending on how you look at them, these characters live in the past, present, and future simultaneously. I think we all do." Amen.

["The Hanging Garden" played in July 1998
at Houston's Landmark Greenway Theatre.]

[This review ran in OutSmart magazine, July 1998.]

Return to Reviews

Blase's Faces