(1996 Feature Film)
Starring
Guillermo Diaz, Frederick Weller, Duane Boutte
Reviewed by Blase DiStefano
"Don't push me, Mary. I'm not in the mood," says the handcuffed drag queen Bostonia (Duane Boutte). The cop who is pushing her replies (I'm paraphrasing): "Aw, she's not in the mood—she must be having her period. She doesn't know whether to kiss me or kill me." No, Bostonia doesn't kill the cop, but she does kick the crap out of him. And thus the infamous Stonewall riot begins.
Even though Stonewall is a semi-fictional account of the riot and the events that led up to it, it feels as if it could have happened exactly this way—that "enough-is-enough" effect that has caused so many revolutions, beneficial or not. And though the film is "told" by LaMiranda (Guillermo Diaz)—a drag queen who frequents the Stonewall Inn—it's not a narrative or a documentary. It is LaMiranda's story, and what a story it is! As the subtitle tells us, it is "A Love Story. The Legend of Stonewall . . . The Beginning of Gay Pride."
The film begins with different views of what happened that fateful night—June 27, 1969, the same night that Judy Garland was buried. Matty Dean (Frederick Weller) arrives in New York City earlier that summer. He winds up at the Stonewall Inn on a night when the cops are on a routine raid and when LaMiranda decides to get defiant. He takes up for her, and both wind up in jail for the night.
They fall for each other, but Matty needs Ethan (Brendan Corbalis), a guy who is straight-laced and "safe." Matty sees less of LaMiranda after that, but don't despair—after getting to know Ethan and discovering that he is what might be called a cowardly jerk, Matty eventually returns to LaMiranda. Like I said: It's a love story.
Scenes not to be missed: 1) a touching scene of an older gay man who dances in a gay bar for the first time in his life; 2) an outrageous scene where Matty accompanies LaMiranda to a military induction center; and 3) pretty much all the scenes with Bostonia.
It's not all hearts and flowers. Stonewall also follows the lives of other gay New Yorkers, and it examines the police harassment, the Mafia control of gay bars, and the general oppression faced by gay men and lesbians before the Gay Rights Movement began in earnest. There are some scenes that might be a little tough to watch, scenes of cruelty and fear which are a reminder that we've certainly come a long way since those days . . . but not far enough.
According to the film's producer, Christine Vachon, "Nigel [Finch, Stonewall's director] wanted to give the lesbian and gay community a sense of courage and history—and most importantly, heroes. In Stonewall, the characters fight back. Nigel said, 'It's a reminder that you have to fight for your rights—they are not given voluntarily! And as a symbol for change, Stonewall is valid universally. Young gay men and lesbians need to know that we had to fight for our rights the whole way. And we are still fighting.'"
Toward the completion of the film, Finch became exhausted and ill due to AIDS-related complications; there came a point where he could work no more than two hours per day. Through tremendous—heroic—effort, he was able to see Stonewall through to a final cut. But on February 14, 1995, he succumbed to AIDS. It is to the credit of producer Vachon, executive producer Anthony Wall, and editor John Richards that the director's vision is apparent in the completed film. On screen and off, he gave us heroes.
["Stonewall" played in October 1996
at Houston's Landmark Greenway Theatre.]
[This review ran in OutSmart magazine, October 1996.]
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