As far as opening credits statements go, the on-screen words that begin Departures are pretty hard to beat: “This film is inspired by all the dickheads that fucked us over. You know who you are.” Setting the tone for this raw, wry and confrontingly honest look at the pleasures and pains of contemporary British gay life as it converges with low self-esteem and toxic masculinity.
Queer As Folk creator Russell T Davies has championed this bold and ambitious, fiercely independent feature, which lives in a similar world geographically, socially and tonally to his groundbreaking original series, first broadcast in the UK in 1999. “Who doesn’t love a 90s flashback?” Asks Departures’ Northern gay thirtysomething protagonist, Benji (Lloyd Eyre-Morgan, who also wrote and co-directed the film with frequent collaborator Neil Ely), at one point during his vulnerable yet propulsive voice over. He would probably get along well with Queer As Folk’s self-deprecating fellow Mancunian central character Vince Tyler, portrayed by Craig Kelly.
Departures itself, while feeling fresh and of-the-moment, certainly has a 90s indie vibe to it, recalling early work by Danny Boyle like Shallow Grave and Trainspotting stylistically, while the filmmakers forge their own distinctive appraoch. The film’s original music, by Eliot Kennedy and Jim Jayawardena, follows suit and is giving the poppy guitar band angst of Radiohead’s “Creep”. Be sure to remain in your seat for their audacious, and rather gorgeous, end credits musical fantasy duet, “When I Close My Eyes”, complete with a dreamy music video sequence. But I’m getting ahed of myself, let’s go back to the start.
As the film opens, we meet door-to-door bird charity fundraiser (so specific there has to be some autobiographical truth to this) Benji, who is heartbroken and has found himself stuck in a “drink-fuck-Grindr” spiral of self-destructive repetition as he attempts to escape or at least numb the emotional agony he is in. We see how things went down at “the fucking end” with his aggressively handsome, pumped-up professional footballer personal trainer ex, Jake (David Tag), before we’re abruptly taken back 18 months to their first encounter.
This might be an anti-rom-com in some respects, but it still has a fun and romantic meet-cute. Benji and Jake are both headed to Amsterdam on solo trips from Manchester when they find themselves drawn to one another as they are downing daytime pints of larger in the airport bar to pass the time after their flight is cancelled. There is an immediate attraction between the men, and intoxicating chemistry between the lead actors, but nothing about the relationship that develops is easy or straightforward.
In hindsight, Benji sees every glaring red flag that he chose to ignore as he was falling hard for the hunky Jake, and painstakingly points them out in his voice over as he takes us through what happened. In the present day, determined to face the past head-on, Benji decides to take one final post-breakup trip to Amsterdam, which runs in parallel with this relationship post-mortem. Is returning to the scene of the crime sadomasochistic or will it help him to heal?
When it comes to those red flags, for starters, Jake does not openly identify as gay or bi. Wracked with internalized homophobia, he says things like “it’s not gay if you’re doing the shagging”, as he lies post-coital in bed with Benji after topping him. In his mind, you’re only gay if you’re a bottom. Jake isn’t up for kissing or holding hands, and will only get sexual with Benji once he has proved himself to be “straight” by having sex with a woman in front of him. It is a “situationship” that is entirely on Jake’s terms of only hooking up on their monthly weekends away to Amsterdam, which he insists on paying for, while keeping things entirely clandestine, with strictly no contact when they are back in Manchester.
This isn’t the first time that Benji has been poorly treated by a man. In fact, he makes a habit of picking guys who take advantage of his low self-esteem, as he shows us a in a usual suspects style lineup of offenders (featuring a brief cameo from Ely). In his sex life, Benji likes it rough and wants to be dominated. Flashback to him getting eroused as a teenager while being beaten up by school bullies. But is this what he seeks out because it’s the kind of treatment that he thinks he deserves, or does he genuinely get pleasure from being dominated, and degraded even? It is a question that is not explicitly voiced out loud, but one that hangs over the film as Benji seeks to answer it for himself. In that respect, Departures makes for an interesting companion piece to another recent British queer feature, Harry Lighton’s Pillion, with its protagonist’s journey towards discovering what he really wants through a sub-dom relationship.
Eyre-Morgan’s darkly comic screenplay strikes the balance of not letting Jake off the hook for his behaviour without simply villananizing him, acknowledging the societal pressures and structures that have helped to forge his brand of toxic masculinity. One of the film’s most touching scenes sees Benji admitting to his body issues which are exacerbated by him being with “a ten” in Jake, who has joked that Benji is a “mid-tier five”. The lakeside exchange, with Benji reluctant to take his top off, shows a glimpse of a kinder and gentler side to Jake, who reassures Benji that he likes his body just as it is. It’s enough for us to grasp why Benji stays invested in the relationship, despite the emotional abuse he is subjected to.
There are also some extended flashback sequences to an adolescent Jake (an excellent Jacob Partali) that help us to understand where the adult is coming from, with him being abandoned by his father and initiated into sex with a woman to prove his sexuality, as arranged by his brash, dog-stealing auntie Jackie (BAFTA-nominee Kerry Howard); a “gay icon” in Benji’s eyes. While further flashbacks to Benji’s own youth (with nice work by Olly Rhodes as young Benji), show how his overbearing single mother Jackie’s (Eastenders star Lorraine Stanley) reaction to him coming out—yelling “What about AIDS?” at the front gate—might have shaped him. The film’s acting style, especially in these supporting roles, lives in the Mike Leigh tradition of improvisation with a blend of naturalism and big character choices.
At the heart of the film, the dynamic between Benji and Jake is compelling and Tag and Eyre-Morgan’s performances are rich and engaging. Both characters have their flaws and are drawn with a rare psychological depth and authenticity, while the film isn’t afraid to go some dark and complex places, buoyed by its cocky sense of humour as Benji laughs through the pain. As he tries to escape, at one point Benji finds himself in a dangerous drug-fuelled sexual situation with a man who does not wait for his consent. It plays out as a stark, confrontational scene that is not undercut by humour and it is an incident that Benji has not yet had time to fully take on board.
Eyre-Morgan’s confessional voice over than runs throughout is funny, appealing and direct, helping to drive the narrative while adding a different perspective to what’s playing out on screen. Gutsy and dynamic, both structurally and aesthetically, the film’s vibrant and eclectic visual language (with cinematography by Paul Mortlock) never feels like style over substance. The disorientating strobe effect sequences look cool, but they also convey Benji’s tortured mental state, while use of split screen (inspired by Roger Avary’s The Rules of Attraction), fourth-wall-breaking to-camera delivery (a nod to Lewis Gilbert’s Shirley Valentine), and text and animated flourishes on screen (Heartstopper style, by Matthew Dolan) help to build momentum and keep things unpredictable and spontaneous. The film is also elevated by its intricate and impactful sound design by Joe Mattrass and its kinetic editing by Ely and Eyre-Morgan.
The term low-budget is too often used as a derogatory descriptor when, let’s face it, spending hundreds of millions of dollars does not automatically result in movie gold. Departures impresses with what can be achieved on a shoestring budget, with this proudly working class, largely queer filmmaking Northern collective shooting the film on weekends over several months around their day jobs (as detailed by Ely and Eyre-Morgan in our exclusive interview with them). This is genuinely independent filmmaking in the punk spirit of New Queer Cinema and the determined energy that drove its production is palpable on screen.
Despite the heavy themes it deal with, Departures is an entertaining watch. Through the film’s dark humour and vivid characters, emerges a cathartic and ultimately hopeful tale of breaking through trauma.
By James Kleinmann
Departures opens at New York’s IFC Center on Wednesday, April 29th from Strand Releasing with Los Angeles and other cities to follow.
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