John Early in Stress Positions (Neon)

Does any trace remain of the forbidden or somewhat “dangerous” in American independent movies? Only sometimes do we nowadays perceive something as provocative or uncomfortable. Stress Positions portrays repugnant (at times) characters in unpleasant situations. In that sense, the directorial debut of transgender filmmaker Theda Hammel is welcome. Hammel not only co-writes and directs but also plays a lead role and serves as the editor and composer.

Although it sounds deliberately suggestive, the title refers more to the psychological and emotional state of its characters during a pandemic. (Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?) The quarantined Brooklyn portrayed is a clear-eyed snapshot of the tumultuous year 2020, defined by Covid and social justice protests. However, it’s more concretely a generational interrogation of queer identity portrayed through a group of friends—and other circumstantial figures—over three days.

At the forefront of a diverse group as irritating as they are (purposely) pathetic is Terry Goon (John Early), a disillusioned and unemployed gay millennial who hasn’t signed the divorce papers that his soon-to-be ex-husband, Leo (John Roberts), has sent him under the intention of marrying a new lover. Adding to this humiliation, Terry has had to quarantine in one of his ex’s apartments. Paranoiac to ridiculous extremes, Terry wears a gas mask, avoids contact as much as possible with his upstairs neighbor, Coco (Rebecca F. Wright), a transgender elder later described as mentally ill. If he doesn’t feel completely useless, it’s because his 19-year-old Moroccan nephew, Bahlul (Qaher Harhash), requires his care. Recovering from an accident that has left him with a plastered leg, Bahlul recently arrived in New York to pursue a modeling career, away from his mother’s yoke. He might be gay or not, perhaps transgender, or a member of a new generation destined to confuse and fascinate those born in the previous century.

Bahlul’s existence arouses the curiosity of Karla (Hammel), Terry’s transgender friend who has known him since high school. She lives with her girlfriend Vanessa (Amy Zimmer), a writer whose most prominent label seems to be vegan above all the others she uses to define herself (lesbian, Jewish). The only novel she has written is a work too inspired by Karla not to become a tense topic in their relationship. Among other characters is Ronald (Faheem Ali), the Kabul delivery boy who feels fascination and attraction for transgender women, although he refers to them with a slur, and a homeless man desperate for someone to lend him a phone to watch pornography.

Stress Positions is above all a comedy, but one defined by discomfort rather than laughter. Hammel takes advantage of a comedian like Early to subject him to a series of slapstick situations that take Terry by surprise (he falls on his face tripping on a hose). Others don’t fare any better with the inclusion of accidents ranging from runovers to a grotesque incident involving an electric massager that redefines the concept of Chekhov’s gun. Meanwhile, there are voice-overs by two intermittent narrators (Karla and Bahlul) and voyeuristic gazes involving old DVDs, hidden cameras, and Snapchat messages. If pandemic cinema is mostly defined by its technical limitations, Hammel has found a creative way to turn them into advantages. In a way, her authorial contribution inserts itself into a certain canon of self-deprecating American comedy that ranges from Woody Allen to Miranda July, leaving the path open for what could be a promising career.

With characters constantly making fools of themselves with their words and actions (most of them are unable to say anything about the Middle East without sounding offensively ignorant), this is the kind of film susceptible to instant rejection and could be accused of making a mean portrayal of the LGBTQ community. A conversation in a crucial scene allows Hammel to express a vision of transgender identity and a self-criticism of the gay community that is not often heard, perhaps for fear of giving any form of incentive to a conservative pushback. The director admirably unleashes a frankness that avoids any kind of self-censorship.

There is also something significant in the clash of generational voices (pay attention to the age difference between its two narrators) insisting that fiction demands freedom (something that is repeated several times throughout). But this freedom can only be possible when we are willing to look at ourselves with honesty. Stress Positions dares to exist, flaws and all, without seeking the sympathy of judges and juries who will not change their verdict.