Plan B, Marco BergerThe Argentinian Queers Are More Than All Right

Plan B
directed by Marco Berger



Plans change. We all know this. But what happens when your intention to be straight, to win back your ex, to be heterosexual, is interrupted? Even if this film by Argentinian director Marco Berger chews on a queer clichŽ, IÕd watch it again and recommend it to my friends.

ÒThereÕs something I donÕt understand. All of a sudden you like guys?Ó Yes, all of a sudden. All of a sudden the boy is queer. It doesnÕt have to be from birth. It doesnÕt have to be in line with the gay political agenda. It can happen one day, unexpectedly, and change all your plans. It can even change back again!

Plan B is about two boys and queerness. I say ÒboysÓ intentionally (and queer too!), because in Plan B a lot of what we see is two boys who havenÕt yet arrived at manhood, swimming in a friendship they havenÕt had since they were 12. And by ÒqueerÓ I mean to signify a fluid, unfixed, sexual orientation (whatÕs sexy is on a spectrum and not in a box).

Bruno spots the new boyfriend of his ex-girlfriend. Plan A is to win his ex-girlfriend back with sex. When that doesnÕt succeed, plan B is to steal her new boyfriend away through seduction. Perhaps bisexuality shouldnÕt come, or be represented, so loosely. But in this film it is, and thatÕs A-OK with me.

As the film proceeds, we see incredibly attractive men reminiscing about the loss of their boyhood. ÒRemember when we were 12 and we used to have sleepovers with our friends and talk all night long?Ó Rather than the oft-tragic representations of gayness, this film shows men mostly sad about growing up. And why shouldnÕt they feel nostalgic for their boyhoods when adult masculinity leaves so little room for guy-to-guy intimacy?

Bruno (Manuel Vignau) and PabloÕs (Lucas Ferraro) relationship is built on childlike conversations, the content leftover from youth: toys, an in-depth analysis of Never-Neverland. The sweetness (or stoned-ness) of this dialogue intermixes with silent, still, too-long shots of mid-20something boys with huge bulges, asleep, in tight underwear. In typical queer film fashion, we are asked to wait in suspense for the boys, who in the end may or may not be straight, to suck it up and make love. The film takes place in prototypically queer in-between spaces: hallways, doorways ÐÐ the boys take a while to decide about landing on each other.

When it comes to queer film, I will add Plan B to my list of favorites. I would endure its clichŽs and imperfections, too-long shots and sometimes over-stylized realism for the entertaining free-association dialogue, the likeability of its content, its gorgeous actors, and finally for the fact that it ÒgetsÓ white boy queer pretty well: the fluidity and changeability of sexual desire, the often fuzzy lines of friendship and lover, as well as the blurry Never Land between the memory of youth and the enactment of adult love.

ÐÐ Sofia Rose Smith