Interview: Romas Zabarauskas

Romas Zabarauskas is an openly gay Lithuanian filmmaker, and his short film Porno Melodrama confronted the anti-gay policies of Lithuanian government. Premiering at the 2011 Berlinale Film Festival, Porno Melodrama brought Zabarauskas lots praise, and lots of criticism. It was Zabarauskas' challenge to the country's "Protection of Minors" law, which was intended to ban homosexual propaganda to minors, and it led to a national scandal involving the European Parliament and Lithuanian President Dalia Grybauskaitė. But I'm sure Zabarauskas doesn't mind the attention, since famed director Gus Van Sant (Elephant, Milk) called the 21-year-old filmmaker "one of the promising talents in the future of motion picture."

Zabarauskas intends to keep the political statements brewing with We Will Riot, his first feature-length film. Luke (Ebeneezer Sowah), a disc jockey from New York, defies his parent's wishes and visits his grandmother in Lithuania, eventually falling in love with the capital city Vilnius. He also falls for a rebellious girl named Marla (Vilma Kutavičiūtė, who also plays Akvile from Porno Melodrama) and the local music scene. After agreeing to become the new manager of a local night club, the deal turns rotten and forces Luke to rebel. John Cameron Mitchell (Shortbus, Rabbit Hole) said, "We Will Riot portrays the very unique predicament of today's youth generation in an insightful and clever way." Zabarauskas said the film portrays the Lithuanian beatmaking scene alongside shady government deals—undoubtedly another scandal waiting to happen in Lithuania.

Zabarauskas sat down with Cinema Beans to talk about the process of making Porno Melodrama and touch on his upcoming film.

Cinema Beans: You’ve noted how the homophobic policies of Lithuania affected the artistry of Porno Melodrama. Yet, politics are almost never directly alluded to during the film. Was that a conscious decision you made?

Romas Zabarauskas: It’s curious that I received criticism both for being too openly propagandist (that’s what I call myself now as well) and, on the contrary, for not being political enough. For me, Porno Melodrama is a political film, only it tackles the issue of Lithuanian homophobia in a metaphorical or even mythical way. I was consciously avoiding the style of another politically correct gay film about coming out, fighting homophobia and feeling good about yourself. I wanted to create a tragedy out of the political reality we’re living in Lithuania.

At the same time, I don’t believe in art for art’s sake, so I try to fight homophobia by publicly speaking about my own homosexuality and constantly demanding equal rights. For the same reason, I made my film public online in Lithuania for free.

CB: As a filmmaker, do you feel obligated to represent such a repressed minority in Lithuania?

RZ: I feel obligated to stand up for myself because I’m gay and I don’t want to be repressed anymore. As a filmmaker, I take the issue of representation seriously and I do think about it when I write and cast. But I do hate boring politically correct art if that’s what you're asking. However, of course everything that is under-represented and that involves human drama is potentially good material for film.

CB: The Father’s speech to Jonas is aggravatingly reminiscent of what we usually hear from religious figures, but the scene where Akvile squeezes a cross until her hand bleeds is a blatant and gripping display religion’s grasp over individuals. Does her grapple with religion and supporting gay rights capture a common mindset in Lithuania?

RZ: It’s interesting that you say her hand bleeds, because we didn’t show the actual blood – but it’s a good thing we provoked your fantasy!

Frankly, it’s difficult to say what is the Church’s influence on gay rights in Lithuania. I think many people in Lithuania believe in “something” and celebrate Christmas, but don’t take the Church that seriously. However, for me it was a perfect dramatic choice to reveal the political situation in Lithuania while still remaining on the personal level. What Jonas’ father—the priest—says in that scene, it’s almost copy-pasted from one homophobic member of the Lithuanian Parliament. There’s also one common terrifying thing with homophobes and religious people—it’s a belief. You can’t fight a belief; you can’t prove people who believe wrong.

Akvile’s belief has also different connotations. When she holds her cross, I insert the intertitle “The one who lets himself be harmed, will harm himself”, which is a broader criticism of the Christian shame of one’s body. It is this context of shame and obsession that makes the final tragedy possible.

CB: The presence of pornography in the film pairs with the role of theater in these characters’ lives. While gay rights is a clear focus, the role of theater actually seems a much more prevalent theme. What was your mindset in morphing the two?

RZ: I wouldn’t say that the role of theater was that important for me in itself.  But it serves as a metaphor and drive for many things. First of all, the film reveals the artificiality of gender roles—Jonas and Matas as a couple are clearly gendered in every scene and we even see them reenacting the gender when they rehearse the pornographic script—Jonas in a male role and Matas in a female role. Though to be honest, I can hardly resist the charm of their binary relationship myself, so I think it doesn’t work solely as a critique of gender, but also, in a peculiar way, as its admiration.

Second, the theatricality is related with certain queer cinema tradition. Filmmakers such as Fassbinder, Haynes, Almodovar—all inspired by Douglas Sirk—appropriated the genre of a Hollywood style melodrama and made their own campy versions of it. I’m very interested in this queer cinema tradition and in the genre of the melodrama itself, because I feel that it is the best continuation of mythical Greek tragedies and that it has powerful potential to reveal social issues and class struggle. Exaggeration fits melodrama, and so the contrast between pornography and theater (which has strong high art traditions in Lithuania) was the most exaggerated contrast I could find.

The title of the film, Porno Melodrama should be read just like that—it’s a pornographically over-the-top melodrama.

CB: The final scene seems to be the culmination of the theater elements, and while those elements subtly infuses themselves into scenes throughout the film, physically placing the characters in a theater brings it screaming to the forefront. What was your intention with such an abrupt change in style?

RZ: Yes, that was my intention. However, for me there is no abrupt change in style. I look at all this film like fiction and theatrical, so for me I don’t really understand when some viewers say the ending is more “fictional”. Actually if I had a bigger budget, I’d make that ending even more exaggerated, splashing with blood and fire. I like being pathetic.

CB: Can you tell me a bit about We Will Riot?

RZ: We Will Riot is my debut feature to be shot between New York and Lithuania. It’s a completely different film—a lot less melodramatic! The film tells about a New York DJ who goes to Lithuania to discover his roots, and ends up causing a riot. Thematically, it tackles a dilemma of how to take meaningful political action against the system you’re part of yourself. We successfully raised the funds on Kickstarter.com for the first, New York part of the shoot, which we’ll be shooting in few weeks.

CB: Will it own the same political aspirations as Porno Melodrama? Is that a trend you strive to keep going?

RZ: Yes, I’m interested to keep going with the political issues. Not politically correct and uniform films fighting for tolerance, and not radical experiments with form that often end up being elitist, but rather mythical explorations of human tragedies that strive in our politically complicated, or shall I say “fucked up”, times.

You can find the Porno Melodrama DVD here, and can also stream the film on Mubi.com here.