One of my favorite, can’t miss podcasts is Know Your Enemy. Friends and writers Sam Adler-Bell and Matthew Sitman read books written by conservatives or about the conservative movement to discuss how we’ve arrived at our current political moment. In their most recent episode titled “What’s Wrong With Men,” Adler-Bell and Sitman discuss their own relationship to manhood and masculinity, and discuss many of the ways in which the crises men face are real — though not in the ways the Conservative Right has co-opted through figures like Jordan Peterson and Andrew Tate.
There’s a ton of insightful information in this particular episode, but it was Adler-Bell’s thoughts around his relationship with masculinity and its toxicity that stood out to me most. He confessed that the type of traditional tenets of masculinity (outward expressions of toughness, lack of emotions, etc.) feel to him like a “straightjacket.” Society’s expectations of what a man should be also feel constricting to me. My inner monologue often asks me if I’m man enough in certain situations; whether it be in regard to being a financial provider, choosing what to wear, defending myself and my girlfriend from potentially dangerous situations, or in many of the other ways it comes up in our daily lives.
I also read a primer last night on entry points into bell hooks’ writing in an article written by Twitter legend Hanna Phifer for Okayplayer. hooks, who passed away in 2021, tackled so many issues throughout her life including on love, relationships, the media, and masculinity among so many others. Phifer explains that hooks held a deep belief “that both women and men are negatively impacted by the patriarchy, and that breaking free from gender roles was an imperative for us all to live fuller lives.” In her book We Real Cool: Black Men and Masculinity, hooks wrote, “Showing aggression is the simplest way to assert patriarchal manhood. Men of all classes know this. As a consequence, all men living in a culture of violence must demonstrate at some point in their lives that they are capable of being violent.”
Finally, I listened to the beginning of the Ear Biscuits podcast episode titled “Why Do People Think We’re Gay?” Ear Biscuits is hosted by Rhett McLaughlin and Link Neal, the duo behind Good Mythical Morning. In this episode that has an admittedly clickbait-y title, Rhett and Link discuss male friendship and how they generally lack much of what it means to be a friend to someone, and how their own friendship bucks those traditions. I implore you to listen and read each of the references I linked.
With all of this information comes my thoughts on Close. It premiered at the 2022 Cannes Film Festival winning the Grand Prix, the festival’s second-most prestigious prize. It was released in the United States this year in late January. Directed by Lucas Dhont, Close tells the story of two 12-year old best friends, Léo and Remi (played by Eden Dambrine and Gustav De Waele, respectively). The duo are closer to each other than all of their peers: They ride bikes to and from school together; they often sleep over each other’s homes, usually in the same bed; they loudly and proudly support and advocate for each other; they're inseparable.
However, Léo and Remi’s closeness changes when the school year starts. Classmates question if the boys are a couple and hurl homophobic slurs their way. The public scrutiny bothers Léo, causing him to push Remi away. It starts by refusing to make physical contact in public with Remi, then he chooses to sleep on the floor instead of Remi’s bed on sleepover nights, and finally, Léo denies Remi’s friendship all together. The societal expectations of masculinity burdens both boys in different ways. From here, Close takes a turn.
I thought Close captured the troubles and dangers associated with accepting and/or refusing to succumb to the will of masculinity better than anything I’ve seen other than Barry Jenkins’ 2014 Oscar-winning Moonlight or Of An Age earlier this year. It’s as much of an internal struggle and it is a battle with the outside world. Oftentimes that pressure may come from a family member. But in Close, neither Léo or Remi’s parents found an issue with their friendship. It wasn’t until they left the safety of their home and familiar environments that they felt unsafe in being themselves.
Many critics have lambasted Dhont’s choices in the film, characterizing them as “unearned” and sentimental to a fault. I agree that the back half of the movie falls short of being much of anything except a way to draw sad emotions out of the audience. But alternatively, I feel the lead-up to the big moment delivers a depth that even if you disagree with the necessity of the plot-twist it’s not unearned. The acting performances particularly by Dambrine and De Waele and their mothers, played by Émilie Dequenne (Remi’s mom; Rosetta) and Léa Drucker (Leo’s mom) were also praiseworthy.
June is Pride Month but all over the country corporations that have largely been supportive of the LGBTQ community, especially in recent years, are pulling support; most recently Target and Starbucks. Backlash against queerness, gender expression, and sexuality certainly have their basis in homophobia but also relates closely to toxic masculinity, misogyny, and many of the other ways society restricts people from freely living the lives they’d like to live. Queerness is at the center of Close’s story. It’s possible that I got swept up in the induced emotion Dhont wanted to bring out of me and/or the media I’ve been consuming unduly swayed my opinion. But I really think the film shows the audience how male friendship can be manifested in a beautiful way, but also that masculinity can ruin it.
What are your thoughts about masculinity? And will you watch Close?