Porno Melodrama, or: When reality and exaggeration colide

Porno Melodrama (2011)

Directed by Romas Zabarauskas

***SPOILERS***

Lithuanian director and writer Romas Zabarauskas spoke of how the anti-gay politics of home country affected the artistry of his short film Porno Melodrama. But in a grand gesture, Porno Melodrama attacks such prejudice views by never focusing on politics at all. The heart and pure agony lying beneath such repression is exemplified through conversation and unfortunate circumstances, all propelled by the mere backdrop of the government. A Father resides over a funeral and berates Jonas (Marius Repsys) for his sins, providing the only direct moment of outside debilitation. It would be easy enough to focus on these surface problems that have come to be expected from religious and political figures, but delving headfirst into Jonas and Matas’ (Kurtis) relationship proves to be Zabarauskas’ prime angle. But the manner in which he addresses gay relationships in Lithuania is far from ordinary—and far from dainty. Using Jonas’ profession in the pornography business as an instigator, Jonas and Matas’ relationship receives a fittingly melodramatic treatment to offset the sheer immediacy of gay relations in Lithuania. To do this, Zabarauskas builds the relationship between these two and Akvile (Vilma Kutaviciute), only to break it down, comparing it to the exaggerated pornography that actually infuses itself into these characters lives.

Basking in Jonas and Matas’ capricious relationship with Akvile is essential in pulling the viewers in, since yanking the carpet from under their feet will prove to be the ultimate emotional (and controversial) punch. The gripping image of Jonas’ giant dragon tattoo contradicts the tender moment he shares with Matas in bed, lending a hint towards Jonas’ perturbed personality. Matas is calm and collected, and the only moment we find him actually defending himself is the moment where Jonas (almost) becomes violent. But when he advances on Matas, it turns into a playful and rough sexual confrontation. Matas smiles as Jonas frustratingly yanks on Matas’ belt: a small moment that captures the unspoken understanding between the two. It’s a moment that’s also compensated by Akvile’s abusive relationship with her boyfriend. There’s no message here claiming that gay couples are happier and abuse-free, but Akvile’s attachment to Jonas proves to be both a parallel to the sincerity of Jonas and Matas’ relationship and a bridge to integrate the melodrama of the final scene.

Since the melodrama is key, the transition must be carefully sidled into the story at hand. The direct political implications own much more impact by remaining in the background, suffocating the characters, as seen by both the Father’s indictment and various graffiti tags saying, “Fags Go Home”. And while politics encompass these characters, we see their interpersonal struggles filtering through such politics. With it comes a bit of triumph coupled with the gloom, declaring that people’s personal struggles, whether gay or straight, often outweigh the narrow-mindedness of government. The three-way relationship between these characters stems from Jonas and Akvile’s profession in the pornography business, pointing towards Matas’ disapproval of the occupation and Akvile’s detached relationship with Jonas. Through pornography we learn that Akvile is in love with Jonas, which in turn leads to a contradiction of her own religious ideals—as seen when she squeezes a cross in her hand until it bleeds—that comes burdened with her physical attraction to a gay man. Through pornography we find Matas watching Jonas’ films, in search of the tiniest hint of genuine attraction to the opposite sex, displaying his wariness of their relationship. And through pornography we learn of Jonas’ undying love for Matas. His only manner of providing financial relief so Matas can pursue his career as an artist, Jonas physically engages with a woman he knows to have feelings for him, making for a trying experience that’s only fueled by the desire to please his partner. Through it all, pornography is carefully inserted into these characters’ lives, but never owning enough of a personality to call attention to itself—making the final scene all the more troubling.

Set in a dark room, we find Akvile talking to Jonas on the phone, providing a fleeting twinge of regret and remorse before setting Matas ablaze. Constrained to a chair, Matas’ inability to speak or move during this scene signifies the constant tug-of-war Jonas grapples with: the Father declares he will burn in Hell; hateful graffiti violently threatens his and Matas' well being; he actively engages with a woman in a profession that’s more accepted in Lithuania than gay relationships; Akvile is unable to find love, and Jonas can provide it. It’s most probable that this hallucinatory race to save Matas is all a dream, but   even if it wasn't, would it change the message? By using the political implications surrounding gay partnerships as a backdrop and allowing it to smother the characters, we find all such implications finally weighing down on Jonas, as he kisses Akvile and falls to the ground in front of a terrified and silent Matas. Such a fantastical sequence pairs gay rights with melodramatic pornography, which is sure to raise a few eyebrows and lead to questions about the responsibility of Zabarauskas’ decisions as a storyteller. But whether dream or reality, such a fantasy speaks of Jonas’ struggle with political oppression, Akvile’s utterly hopeless debility in finding reciprocation for her love, and Matas’ constant self-imposed aggravation over Jonas and Akvile’s attraction towards one another. In the end, the melodrama of pornography doesn’t seem so exaggerated during this blisteringly honest confrontation—the culmination of how dire the status of gay rights has become in Lithuania, all related through three insignificant human beings.

Final thoughts:

Zabarauskas had a vision with Porno Melodrama and he executed it flawlessly. I don’t mean to say Porno Melodrama couldn’t have possibly been better, but in keeping with the vision, this is a fully realized film. Surely the most gripping moments in this film stem from the acting and the strength of Zabarauskas’ writing through dialogue, leading to a reasonable assumption that such a sad tale could have been much more impactful if stripped free of the experimental chains. But regardless if the final scene tickles your fancy, the absolute discipline throughout Zabarauskas’ writing leads me to believe that he’s a filmmaker to watch for the future. From beginning to end, every moment is dedicated to building the struggles of gay relations in Lithuania and allowing the final scene to shine. At no point is Zabarauskas selfish with his characters. The final scene could have easily been all about Jonas’ stuggles, but Zabarauskas cleverly inserts Akvile and Matas into secondary roles that climax their struggles as well. Whether or not Zabarauskas continues to make films about the gay rights dilemma in Lithuania, I’m sure of one thing: his films will continue to be incredibly humane.

Watch Romas Zabarauskas' Porno Melodrama below. To view the film with English subtitles, watch it at Mubi.com here.