I love how Andy Vallentine’s films explore how the past can influence the present. His short film, The Letter Men, traced a love story back to World War II by using the letters of Gilbert Bradley. His latest effort, The Mattachine Family, has a lot on its mind, especially when it comes to what defines a family and fatherhood and whether we, as gay men, are even supposed to want that. Mattachine is infused with a lot of emotional intelligence and its cast brings a wonderful naturalism to the material.
Nico Tortorella plays Thomas, a photographer living in Los Angeles with his loving husband, Oscar (played by the ever-handsome Juan Pablo Di Pace). As a child actor, Oscar delighted millions in a family sitcom, but he garnered scandal when he was outed by a tabloid. Neither Thomas or Oscar wanted to have children until they fostered Arthur, a young boy whose mother turned to drugs after the death of her husband. When she puts her life back together, Arthur is taken away, and it leaves an unexpected void in Thomas’ life.
Since Oscar is shooting a new series on location and hoping that it gets picked up, Thomas is left to his own devices. Not only does he have to be the one to deal with the unraveling of their parenthood, Thomas begins to spiral and wonder if he really wants to explore the idea of putting himself through another fostering. Is Thomas determined to give fatherhood another shot because his own dad when he was young? His friends, Lean and Sonia (Emily Hampshire and Cloie Wyatt Taylor) are also trying to conceive, so his brain is immersed in babies babies babies.
This is Tortorella’s most accomplished performance. Thomas is an observer, and he is rarely in front of his own lens (Thomas and Dennis from The Broken Hearts Club need to become friends and do an exhibition together). They have never been so relaxed and emotionally open as they are as Thomas. They and Di Pace have an easy, sexy connection despite being apart for a lot of the film. Vallentine’s script has affection for these characters, and he knows how to step back to allow them ponder their own legacy, impatience, and stagnation.
A lot of queer cinema reinforces the notion of the found family, and that is something that we continually need to show over and over again (the historical steps are featured in several scenes). I don’t think any other film about parenting (gay or straight) has posed an integral question like The Mattachine Family does: once a parent, are you ever not a parent? Where does the paternal love that Thomas had for Arthur go? Where does the strength that Thomas and Oscar found as parents, as unit, move to?
There are some conversations about some people think there is a “way to be gay.” I’m sure some audiences might wonder why other queer people want to have a more heteronormative lifestyle, but Vallentine’s film reminds me so much about how we are always told that our love is bad. Gay men and women know how it feels to be a kid and not feel the unconditional love from a parent. Kids feel those things without the words being said. The Mattachine Family is about how one man wants to expand his arms and not close them. It’s a beautiful film, and it will stay with you.
The Mattachine Family debuts in-person at Outfest on July 22 at the Directors Guild of America in Theater One.