In a stunning upset, charismatic but conniving Russell Hantz — the sneakiest contestant since Richard Hatch in Season One — lost out to Natalie White in Survivor: Samoa, the 19th installment of the reality series that spawned the entire genre.
Hantz, the Texas oilman who talks like Dallas' J.R. Ewing with a little bit of the bad guys in Deliverance thrown in, was made for reality TV. Cocky to a point past arrogance, he spouted such inanities as "Let's see if a 21-year-old can outdo me when it comes to pain" and "I was born for this; this is what God made me for."
Of course, the camera loved him — he was the breakout star of the show — even he did a lot to perpetuate the stereotype of the unprincipled Texas businessman. But he overplayed his hand and his insufferable arrogance turned off the other Survivor cast mates who decided his fate.
It all seemed awfully contrived and padded (the finale could have been wrapped up in 15 minutes instead of 120). But I have to hand it to Hantz: He was about the only thing that made this tired show watchable — along with breathtaking HDTV-enhanced scenery.
Even after it was over, Hantz still believed he was the best player in the game and offered White, an Arkansas pharmaceutical rep, $10,000 for the title of "sole survivor." She demurred.
But Hantz had the last laugh, of sorts. Viewers voted him the "Sprint Player of the Season," which came with a $100,000 prize.
As recently as the late 2010s, if a movie was made about an LGBTQ+ character, it was more than likely about their coming out experience. Romance, if it existed, was typically chaste, and actual sex was almost completely out of the question. Things have changed dramatically in the 2020s, to the point that a major movie star has no issue starring in a film called Queer.
Based on the 1985 novella by William S. Burroughs, the film features William Lee (Daniel Craig), whom everyone calls just Lee, a writer living in 1950s-era Mexico City who spends most of his time haunting local bars with friends like fellow writer Joe Guidry (Jason Schwartzman) and hitting on younger men. His early interactions in the film seem to indicate that Lee has a bad reputation within the local gay community, as multiple people avoid him or give him odd looks.
Lee senses an opportunity when he encounters a newcomer, Eugene Allerton (Drew Starkey). Despite some awkward interactions, the two of them start spending time together, although Lee has much more invested in the relationship than Eugene does. Their hit-and-miss bond continues until Lee, who’s starting to get into drugs in addition to the booze, convinces Eugene to accompany him on a trip to South America.
Directed by Luca Guadagnino and written by Justin Kuritzkes (making their second straight film together after Challengers), early on the film seems to be mostly about the divide between an older person who’s grown comfortable in his ways and a younger person who’s living a relatively carefree life. The introduction of drugs into the plot changes things, though, with Lee searching out more ways to open his eyes to what the world has to offer.
Guadagnino and his team use some interesting visual storytelling techniques to introduce ideas that may not be present in the actual script. The most successful, demonstrated in multiple scenes, is the superimposition of movements by Lee over what’s actually taking place in the scene. The subtle overlay gives the audience insight into Lee’s true feelings, showing what he can’t or won’t say out loud.
Music also plays a big part in how the plot is perceived, with the use of anachronistic songs from Nirvana and Prince serving to heighten certain moments. The score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross is not as in-your-face as the one they did for Challengers, but it complements the film well, especially when the plot starts to get trippy in its final half hour.
Craig, who appears sweaty and disheveled for much of the film, is about as far from the suaveness of James Bond as you can get in this role. He takes multiple risks with his performance and almost all of them pay off. Starkey’s character is subdued by comparison, but still comes off well. Schwartzman and Lesley Manville are given showy roles, with both using altered appearances that make them nearly unrecognizable to deliver memorable performances.
Queer is not as accessible as Challengers was storytelling-wise, but the fact that it tells a story about gay men living their lives as they see fit with no interference or questions shows how far the film world has come in a short period of time. It also continues Guadagnino’s streak of making audacious films in a way that few other filmmakers are willing or able to approach.
