Any gay person will tell you that one of their main problems (granted that they survived adolescence unscarred and are reasonably well-adjusted--that's a big "granted") is that there is no real "language" for romance between two men, or two women. Gay people generally hide their sexuality during the period when others are learning how to express it, and once a gay person has determined to strike out on his or her own, there isn't much in the culture to let them know how to approach another person of the same sex--what the rules are, what to say, what signals to send and how to read the other person. And most "gay movies" that try to fulfill this function are gimmicky and/or maudlin--people in them don't talk like human beings.
"Private Romeo" solves the problem by using the play still regarded as the last word on young romance--William Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet"--and putting the words of Shakespeare's young lovers in the mouths of two men--cadets at a military training academy. In a sort of limbo while they await orders for transfer, the cadets are (for some reason) studying "Romeo and Juliet" in their classes, and they begin to lapse in and out of the play in their daily lives, as Sam (Seth Numrich) and Glenn (Matt Doyle) meet, fall in love, and play out their destiny in a way that parallels Shakespeare in some ways and departs from it in others. Their classmates follow suit, echoing Shakespeare's world in another way--all of the roles are played by men, and several of them switch from one role to another without any fuss or directorial signaling (after Mercutio's death scene, he simply becomes Capulet).
All of this is accomplished without a trace of self-consciousness. The actors behave in a way I don't believe I've ever seen in a modern Shakespeare adaptation--their movements and inflections are completely contemporary, yet the language comes out of them easily--it never seems jarring or archaic. The actors are trained (Numrich and Doyle appeared in "War Horse") so that they do the play honor yet still make it work as a modern movie. Numrich is a convincingly ardent Romeo--when he meets his Juliet at a late-night beer-and-cards bash (substituting for the Capulet ball), he circles him warily, making tentative gestures at his hand and (eventually) his lips ("give me my sin again"). Doyle's Juliet, the center of the movie, registers the moment of Glenn's surrender wonderfully, and from then on he lives only for his love. His face becomes so eager at the thought of Romeo that we long to see it stay that way--the moments when it collapses and shatters with pain become almost unbearable. None of the other students react in conventionally "homophobic" ways--Tybalt (Bobby Moreno) is just another young men left in charge who has gotten full of himself, and who thinks that Sam and Glenn's liaison will disrupt order at the academy. And Hale Appleman's Mercutio is the most ambiguous reading of that role in quite a while--during the Queen Mab speech, we can't tell whether he is cautioning Romeo against the "dream" of gay love, or whether he has a thing for him himself.
Sorry to have gone on for so long, but this movie affected me in a very personal way, especially during the balcony scene--or, for that matter, any scene in which Romeo and Juliet are together. The movie does what flashier, "concept"-riddled Shakespeare films don't--it makes what now seems quaint and abstract in the play (the feud, the duels) seem electric. There is genuine tension and peril in the air, plus a tenderness that seems earned. Lines take on new meaning ("I do love--a woman", "Is love a tender thing?", and, especially, "Thy beauty hath made me effeminate"). Spoiler--no one dies here, not even the two title lovers, and yet the stakes are as high as ever. And not even the sternest Shakespeare purist could disavow this ending--especially not one who has seen too many screen homosexuals end in suicide (or too many real-life gay teens doing the same.)
"Private Romeo" solves the problem by using the play still regarded as the last word on young romance--William Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet"--and putting the words of Shakespeare's young lovers in the mouths of two men--cadets at a military training academy. In a sort of limbo while they await orders for transfer, the cadets are (for some reason) studying "Romeo and Juliet" in their classes, and they begin to lapse in and out of the play in their daily lives, as Sam (Seth Numrich) and Glenn (Matt Doyle) meet, fall in love, and play out their destiny in a way that parallels Shakespeare in some ways and departs from it in others. Their classmates follow suit, echoing Shakespeare's world in another way--all of the roles are played by men, and several of them switch from one role to another without any fuss or directorial signaling (after Mercutio's death scene, he simply becomes Capulet).
All of this is accomplished without a trace of self-consciousness. The actors behave in a way I don't believe I've ever seen in a modern Shakespeare adaptation--their movements and inflections are completely contemporary, yet the language comes out of them easily--it never seems jarring or archaic. The actors are trained (Numrich and Doyle appeared in "War Horse") so that they do the play honor yet still make it work as a modern movie. Numrich is a convincingly ardent Romeo--when he meets his Juliet at a late-night beer-and-cards bash (substituting for the Capulet ball), he circles him warily, making tentative gestures at his hand and (eventually) his lips ("give me my sin again"). Doyle's Juliet, the center of the movie, registers the moment of Glenn's surrender wonderfully, and from then on he lives only for his love. His face becomes so eager at the thought of Romeo that we long to see it stay that way--the moments when it collapses and shatters with pain become almost unbearable. None of the other students react in conventionally "homophobic" ways--Tybalt (Bobby Moreno) is just another young men left in charge who has gotten full of himself, and who thinks that Sam and Glenn's liaison will disrupt order at the academy. And Hale Appleman's Mercutio is the most ambiguous reading of that role in quite a while--during the Queen Mab speech, we can't tell whether he is cautioning Romeo against the "dream" of gay love, or whether he has a thing for him himself.
Sorry to have gone on for so long, but this movie affected me in a very personal way, especially during the balcony scene--or, for that matter, any scene in which Romeo and Juliet are together. The movie does what flashier, "concept"-riddled Shakespeare films don't--it makes what now seems quaint and abstract in the play (the feud, the duels) seem electric. There is genuine tension and peril in the air, plus a tenderness that seems earned. Lines take on new meaning ("I do love--a woman", "Is love a tender thing?", and, especially, "Thy beauty hath made me effeminate"). Spoiler--no one dies here, not even the two title lovers, and yet the stakes are as high as ever. And not even the sternest Shakespeare purist could disavow this ending--especially not one who has seen too many screen homosexuals end in suicide (or too many real-life gay teens doing the same.)