Rent 1985 (2018)

1985 review by Mark McPherson - Cinema Paradiso

Yen Tan’s 1985 is much more than a historical throwback for its AIDS drama. It’s a story that is sadly just as insightful and heartbreaking today as it would’ve been if it were told in the 1980s. Shot in black and white with the 4:3 aspect ratio, it certainly has the look of a film that favors the dreaminess of nostalgic wonderment. Indeed, a certain longing for the past can be felt throughout, but it’s a longing the hurts, realizing it’s a world that we can never go back to once our innocence is lost.

Adrian Lester (Cory Michael Smith) comes home to Texas to spend time with his family. He is gay but hasn’t come out to them. His dad is strictly conservative. His mother adheres to dad’s wishes but secretly votes Democrat. His younger brother can only listen to Madonna’s latest album in secret because his father has thrown out the other music condemened as devil melodies by the local church. Some of them already know about his secret lifestyle. Mom has suspected. Dad finds out after spying on Adrian’s home out of town. His younger brother isn’t the wiser.

On the surface, however, Adrian seems a welcoming presence in the home. Mostly. Though dad scoffs at the decadent gifts, he still opens up to his son about how hard his life has been going with military buddies committing suicide. Mom is happy to have Adrian home and take care of him in the form of drawing baths when he stumbles in sick after dark. Adrian’s brother is just happy to have someone to let him in on the latest music and take him to R-rated movies. But they don’t know everything. He has AIDS and has lost his job. He has watched others die from his illness that is currently in a very rough stage.

Adrian doesn’t open up to any of them about this, deciding instead to confide in an old childhood friend played by Jamie Chung. They connect somewhat bitterly and it isn’t until his last day in his small town Texas home that he chooses to divulge all the painful details. He has plenty of opportunities to do so but refuses, including a scene where they nearly become intimate. Until that moment, he hides every painful tear, only taking bitter cries when he knows he is fully alone, away from the more judgmental eyes.

1985 comes crashing down in its third act with tearful reveals that more mostly effective. The indie vibe mostly works with its throwback presentation, embodying a film that feels more down and dirty, rough and personal. And in its many somber moments, I wept, more so than when the tears are flowing on the screen. Watch how Adrian seems to command a more understanding sense of well-meaning when saying a prayer at the dinner table, only to be bitterly questioned by his father when they later have a beer in the backyard. He goes to church services with his family and silently takes in the community, knowing full well that if any of the residence knew the truth about his lifestyle he’d never be welcomed inside. He does his best to hide but knows it will not last. Eventually, people will know. He’ll die of AIDS and shame will sweep over the community or, worse, denying he was ever there.

Adrian departs knowing full well this will be his last Christmas home. He ensures that he’ll be remembered by his brother in some way, mostly for his mind not yet being polluted by the politics of religion. And in the film’s most somber moment, Adrian assures his brother that there is another place where you don’t have to listen to music or conceal your sexuality in fear. There is a better place and he’ll one day find it. But Adrian doesn’t know. And it’s perhaps that uncertainty that makes 1985’s AIDS drama more quaking of social conciousness that transcends the ages. This is the stuff that great dramas are made of.