Pride (pt. II)

Bound

Connie and Carla

During Pride month last year, we educated ourselves with one of the most important pieces of queer cinema: Paris Is Burning, in addition to viewing the sweet and sensationally absurd queer classic: But I’m a Cheerleader. This year, we wanted to further our education and exploration of LGBTQ+ film, but we had so many intriguing and enticing options to choose from—many that have made the list of future selections for Double Feature Thursday. Ultimately, we went with two films that received polarizing reviews upon their release, the 1996 thriller Bound, and the 2004 comedy Connie and Carla. In addition to telling stories of queer people and the mafia, Bound and Connie and Carla were both made with passion and intention and style. Connie and Carla was a smidge less serious than Bound, despite the presence of the very talented dramatic actress Toni Collette. For a story about two cisgendered women who invade a queer space for their own benefit, Connie and Carla was tender and silly and undeniably sweet. In a very Some Like it Hot meets Victor Victoria fashion, this movie was overflowing with hijinks and hilarious stakes that Toni Collette and Nia Vardalos, the film’s writer, delightfully delivered. It’s by no means a perfect pride film and none of my favorite show tunes were included in this film with a myriad of show tunes, but Connie and Carla had drag queens and David Duchovny and I’ve never been one to turn either of those things down. It’s no To Wong Foo or Priscilla, but Connie and Carla is a celebration of queerness and musical theatre—which are inexorably tied together. Where Connie and Carla innocently dipped into the pool of LGBTQ+ culture, Bound made a deliberate and determined dive. Bound was sleek and sexy and told its story with immense amounts of style and suspense. From the beginning to the very last frame you become hypnotized by Jennifer Tilly and Gina Gershon, with moments of lucidity only brought upon by Joey Pants. This is so unlike any mob movie. Just like every other Wachowski project I’ve seen, Bound pushed the boundaries so far past what I expected and delivered an entirely original story. Family respect and displays of libidinous wisdom were not the focus of this film, and instead an emphasis was placed upon female pleasure and power. Jennifer Tilly’s Violet and Gina Gershon’s *ahem* Corky were extremely magnetic as lovers and very efficient as partners in crime. I loved the attention to detail in this film, the focus on hands and fingers, and its general methodology that placed freedom and pleasure over uniformity and tradition. The abundance of leather, the distinct color scheme, and the (sometimes too loud) orchestral music perfectly fit this dark and steamy aesthetic that distinguished these auteurs and their era. The Wachowski sisters always have a way of coding their films with important, expansive messaging, but the queer elements of this film are not hidden in the subtext, they are boldly on display. And real life Betty Boop and 90s King Princess were the most interesting protagonists, because in a way, they were able to remain mostly unsuspected due to the things that other-ed them from this generally male landscape: their femininity and their love for each other. I didn’t think I could love something as much as I love The Matrix and Sense8, two of the Wachowski’s best, but Bound absolutely blew me away. And it’s bound to do the same to you.