Psycho-Homosexual Thrillers (Pride pt. XIV)

Stranger by the Lake

The Devil Queen

Hello hello hello, dear readers and deviants, it’s time for another round of double queer features to celebrate Pride! I hope you’re not sick of this overbearingly obsessive ally's commentary, because we have many many more gay films to watch before the month is over. Last week’s double dose of lesbian rom coms were sweet and surprisingly timeless for being made in the early oughts, and while this week’s selections were far from sweet, they both seem like they could’ve been set in any time or setting. Tonight’s Pride double features are queer thrillers, specifically of the psycho-sexual variety—one of my favorite genres that I haven’t explored since 2021 for some reason (maybe because nothing has surpassed my love for Body Heat, thus far.) Psycho-sexual thrillers are all about subverting the audience’s expectations and twisting the conventions of regular romantic or sexual inclinations. So, naturally, queer cinema—where many subversive stories reside—is an excellent place to find psycho-sexual thrillers. Queer content is inherently subversive from the heteronormative, patriarchal structure that inevitably bleeds from our society into our media. That’s why, for better or for worse, some of the most unapologetically queer narratives comes from horror and thriller films. Queer characters a rarely given much depth in hetero-centric films, but tonight’s psycho-homosexual thrillers are chock-full of well-developed, complex, and thoroughly compelling queer protagonists and antagonists, and I couldn’t get enough. Up first is a film I’ve been wanting to see ever since I heard Joel Kim-Booster speak about it on his and Mitra Jouhari’s defunct podcast Urgent Care, a French queer thriller called Stranger by the Lake. Given its vibrant poster and catchy name, I’d assumed this film was older, and perhaps based on a book—as many great thrillers are—but neither of these things are true. Alain Guiraudie’s 2013 film Stranger by the Lake is not based on anything other than this auteur’s own imagination—with some of the main characters taking inspiration from people the director knew. The entirety of Stranger by the Lake takes place on a small, unofficially-nude beach in Provence, France, with zero interior shots, music, or improvisation included. Its filmmaking style, cinematography, and dialogue are all fairly simple, but the entire film is pulsating with danger the moment it begins. While it takes us awhile to learn his name, we are introduced to Franck, a young, gay man who frequents this nude beach. He sunbathes, he swims, and when he so chooses, he wanders into the woods surrounding the lake to have a casual hookup with other men. It is the understood, unwritten rule of this beach, where only nude men are in attendance. William Friedkin’s Cruising displayed one, particular kind of cruising, but the one presented in Stranger by the Lake is much less scandalized and intense. The men in the woods have polite, often silent agreements amongst them, looking each other up and down and only engaging in sexual acts if approached consensually. Franck spots a man, Henri, sitting alone, with only his shirt off, and decides to sit by him one day. The two have a fascinating conversation about this beach, about gay existence, about the politics and peculiarities of cruising and pleasing men. Henri is not there to cruise, he has just exited a relationship with a woman, and wants to enjoy his solitude and people-watching on the beach. Franck is charmed by Henri’s content disposition and storied life, and the two quickly become the only platonic friends on this beach. Henri warns Franck about a particular kind of violent catfish (the silurus) that can be found in these waters, but what neither men are aware of is the fact that there is something greater to be feared on this quiet beach. Franck French-exits his convo with Henri when he sees a devilishly handsome, mustached-man disappear into the woods, but when Franck retreats into the thick greenery, his dream man is already taken. Nevertheless, Franck finds another lover, and the two have sex on what appears to be the sharpest-looking rocks and twigs that are scattered about this forest. His lover brushes away used condoms and lube, and the two are shown having full-on sex. It’s not the first time I’ve been tricked into watching porn, and it likely won’t be the last time, but then something frightening happens. As the day goes on and Franck prepares to leave, he watches the still, serene lake from atop a hill, and begins to hear the sound of grunting and panting—a grunting and panting that does not sound like regular noises of pleasure. Franck witnesses the handsome, mustached-man drown the man he was with all day. This Tom Selleck knock off (but hotter) emerges from the water, alone. Franck is reasonably shaken, and yet, he still returns to the beach the next day, where he sees someone’s beach towel and bag, still sitting on the sand—likely the belongings of the likely dead man from the day before. He chats with Henri, he goes for a swim, and eventually, the handsome mustached stranger appears above Franck and says, “Bonsoir, may I share your blanket?” Before Franck can react, he is under the spell of Michel—the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. The two quickly engage in (admittedly hot) sex, Michel leading with more romanticism and tenderness than Franck’s usual, casual sexual partners. Now, we’ve all had friends that have dated bad guys, but our buddy Franck falls in love with Michel so swiftly—and with the knowledge that he just drowned someone—that it made my head spin. What transpires next I shan’t spoil, but just know that the journey to the end of this movie is a slow-burning, sexy, suspenseful thrill ride full of tense conversations and un-simulated sex by way of (pretty un-clockable) body doubles. Gay men are stronger than I am because all I could think the whole time—other than “Run, Franck, run!!!”—was, “How are y’all not getting devoured by bugs and sunburns and the skin-cutting rocks y’all are making love on?” I’m all for chaotic eroticism, but in the great outdoors? I don’t think so, honey. Stranger by the Lake remains tense and twisted throughout, and Franck and Michel’s budding relationship is only complicated further when a body washes up and the police arrive to investigate. This is perhaps one of the most subtle and quiet thrillers I’ve ever seen, with some of the most riveting moments occurring within simple conversations. It carefully catalogues a myriad of dynamics and practices and desires among gay men, remaining interesting and educational and nerve-wracking throughout. I love an unassuming but unnerving thriller, and Stranger by the Lake really, really delivered. The same could be said about tonight’s next film, though it was far from subtle. Antonio Carlos da Fontoura’s Brazilian crime thriller The Devil Queen presents us with a cast of unlikely, or rather, underrepresented anti-heroes and villains, who all inhabit the LGBTQ+ community. There is very little written about The Devil Queen, even though it won the Cannes Film Festival’s Director’s Fortnight award in 1974, and is loosely-based on a real person—João Francisco Dos Santos (also known as Madame Satã) who, after serving 27 years in prison for murder, joined and eventually led a community of sex workers, pimps, drug dealers, and samba composers in the dark bohemian underbelly of Rio de Janeiro. Madame Satã (which translates to Madam Satan) spent her days performing in drag at a cabaret, as well as partaking in many modes of organized crime. João's infamous character was an expression of resistance in this post-abolitionist era in Brazil, where black people, sex workers, drug users, and other 'deviant' outcasts were deemed useless to society. It is said that the Madame had legendary spars with police—often fighting off officers who were armed with clubs and beating them with her bare hands and highly-developed capoeira moves. There is a film more specifically about Madame Satã that came out in 2002 (called Madame Satã), but tonight I wanted to explore Fontoura’s classic and underrated thriller, filmed at the height of Brazilian dictatorship, The Devil Queen. The film begins with credits that are accompanied by lively music and sparkly text—immediately setting the tone for this electric, flamboyant, feverishly frantic film. We open on the home of the Diaba (Devil) Queen, where several masculine and feminine-presenting people enter the room. They all represent different crime units and factions of Rio de Janeiro and they are all the loyal subjects of the Devil Queen, who nonchalantly shaves her legs on a bed as her comrades surround her. The feeling is tense as the Queen scans the room with her enchanting eyes—someone is in trouble, or someone is about to be. She demands to know who’s been distributing marijuana to students, as this reckless act has placed her criminal collective further under the radar of the police, and urges her second in command, Catitu, to fix this mess. Catitu’s plan becomes apparent when we are introduced to Bereco, a handsome young hoodlum who clearly desires respect and power in his dangerous neighborhood. Bereco is already a mess, as we witness him love and assault his girlfriend, a cabaret performer named Isa, who he clearly visits regularly, but cannot muster respect for her. Bereco is enlisted by Catitu to steal a large quantity of marijuana and sell it, but Isa warns him that Catitu works for the Devil Queen, who is relentless in her pursuit of money and power. The Devil Queen is more than an intimidating mob boss, she is a highly-influential member of this society who is worshipped by many—even those who seemingly do not work for her—but Bereco ignores Isa’s warning and begins his life of crime anyway. Before he can say “bom dia”, Bereco is fully immersed into the shady world of the Brazilian mafia, and does plenty of the Queen’s bidding, before even meeting her. While the Queen smiles and continues to conduct business, her second in command Catitu is plotting a mutiny against this untouchable boss—a plan that ends up being stickier than it sounds. Bereco is ambitious and scrappy, but this Queen and her army of gender-fluid goons are formidable opponents. This Queen was constantly sporting colorful, androgynous clothing and neon shades of eyeshadow, only rivaled by the looks worn by Isa, and the other performers at her cabaret. We witness the Queen avoiding the dirty work often, but when an answer is needed, she is not afraid to intimidate and torture (via beauty salon chair) whomever stands in her way. Her network of organized (and disorganized) crime was really unlike anything I’ve ever seen before, and each drag -adorned crime crony was more unique than the last. The Devil Queen is a vivacious and violent film that places you right into the bustling side streets and avenues of Brazilian favelas, and takes you on a heart-pounding ride through one criminal activity to another. There is plenty of drama and violence and aggression, but there is also a refreshing amount of candor and casual queerness in The Devil Queen. Fontoura’s guerrilla filmmaking style is not only edgy and fascinating to observe, but it was undoubtedly the only way this film could’ve been made in such an intense and politically treacherous place as 1970s Brazil. I’ll admit that I do not know much about Brazilian art and history, my only exploration beyond watching this film was when I watched (and didn’t finish…) Drag Race Brasil, but after watching this film I am especially motivated to educate myself more. The complete package of this film is entertaining and insane, but the last ten-ish minutes or so really go off the rails, in the way that only drag queen media does. Many of the queens of Ru Paul’s Drag Race have found mainstream fame with their polished and professional garments and gimmicks, but it was beyond beguiling to see these old-school, ass-kicking, unpolished but unbothered queens in such chaotic and compelling glory in The Devil Queen. We may all have certain standards in mind when it comes to imagining what mob bosses look like and what drag queens do, but this film completely subverts any expectations you might have going into it—which, as a frequent viewer of The Sopranos and Ru Paul’s Drag Race, I really appreciated. The music was groovy, the characters were captivating, and the Devil Queen spills plenty of tea and blood before this film draws its last, dramatic breath. I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed both of tonight’s psycho-homosexual thrillers, except, I suppose I just did… so I’ll wrap it up. Until next time, be gay, do crime, and long live the Devil Queen. Tchau!