Post Cards from America

I was scared to watch this movie because I read bad reviews and the storyline was depressing to me. I was happy I started to enjoy the movie from the start. I liked the music and graphic art introduction. All actors were wonderful. It told a story of a young boy who was physically abused by his father. It also told his story of being a gay prostitute. Even though it was tough subject matter I found this movie very interesting and poetic. I feel people who did enjoy it might have rushed through it or couldn't take the subject matter. I'm happy I discovered this movie and hope you enjoy it too. It left an impression on me.

While this movie is a non-linear biography, it is not as bad or hard to follow as the previous reviewer seemed to think.

It is an interesting movie and the editing keeps the viewer more interested than if the story had been presented in strictly chronological order.

It is NOT a landmark film and will change very few lives but it is an interesting account of what seems to have been an interesting life.

The characterizations seemed real and believable and the story was ably told unlike so many other "Gay" movies of this type.

Well meant, but ultimately dull, distorted and overly self-serious movie about extreme family dysfunction, gay hustlers and a drifter. Think NATURAL BORN KILLERS meets MY OWN PRIVATE IDAHO meets THE HITCHHIKER. The story is drowned in a sea of self-relevance by too much symbolism, average or worse performances and muddled editing. The back and forth flashback sequences are confusing and detached. The viewer simply sits and watches, without being allowed into to get involved. This is like viewing a complete stranger's vacation slides. This alienation of the viewer, in essence, cripples POSTCARDS FROM AMERICA from the start.

What the viewer is left with, is simply a cautionary tale, weighed down with too many faults, that could have been told in at least half the length of this movie.

The artist David Wojnarowicz (1954-1992 was not exactly the sort of person you'd like to have drop in to meet mom: the product of an abusive home, he spent his teenage years working as a Time Square prostitute and much of his later life on the road, trading sex for a ride, for a meal, for nothing at all. Over time, he would begin to turn his extreme experiences into art: a series of writings, paintings, and sculptures that would eventually gain him a small but influential following. He came to national consciousness when the National Endowment for the Arts, under pressure from Senator Jessie Helms and Rev. Donald Wildemon, withdrew funding for an exhibition of his work--and instead of going quietly into night Wojnarowicz responded by suing Wildemon for copyright infringement and misrepresentation.

POSTCARDS FROM America is based on both Wojnarowicz's life and two autobiographical books he wrote: CLOSE TO THE KNIVES and MEMORIES THAT SMELL LIKE GASOLINE, both of which might best be described as a series of essays that sketch the horrors of his childhood, his sexual experiences as a prostitute and on the road, and his battle with AIDS. And like many art films, it has many good ideas; unfortunately, and also like many art films, it doesn't always know what to do with them.

The style of the film, directed and scripted by Steve McLean, tears a page from D.W. Griffith's silent masterpiece INTOLERANCE: instead of presenting us with a sequential biography, the film slips through time, mixing scenes of Wojnarowicz's childhood, his teenage years, and his later years on the road. In each case Wojnarowicz is played by a different actor at each stage of his life, and overall the effect is quite interesting and the performances are quite a bit better than you might expect. The cinematography by Ellen Kuras is also quite fine.

Where the film falls down is in the script, most of which is lifted word-for-word from Wojnarowicz's writing--which at its best explodes memorably in the ear. But director/writer McLean scripts the piece as a series of monologues, some done as voice-overs, some delivered directly to the camera. It would take a truly extraordinary ensemble to pull it off, but for all the directorial and acting gifts involved the overall feel that emerges is a mix of the static and the stagey. But the real failure of the film is its inability to convey the absolute fury that Wojnarowicz's writings possess and the sense of exploding anger that the best of his art conveys. Ultimately, Wojnarowicz emerges as a guy who had bad luck instead of a person who deliberately chose the adult life he led.

All of that said, it's rather difficult to know to whom this film is supposed to appeal. Obviously, the film has a strong gay element--and it is rife with same sex scenes, casual encounters in bathrooms, truck stops, a truly vicious rape that occurs when Wojnarowicz accepts a ride from a man in a van, all of which the character actually seems to take in stride as the "givens" of life. But individuals who live this particular lifestyle are unlikely to sit down and watch an art film about it, and for the rest of us--be we heterosexual or homosexual--it is off-putting to say the least.

That off-putting element might have been overcome by bringing us more deeply into Wojnarowicz as a person, but the film never really does this, and when it ends we are really left no wiser than we were before. I am tempted to give POSTCARDS FROM America three stars--but for all its failings it is in many respects a haunting film, filled with unexpected moments of visual beauty and a host of remarkable performances (especially from James Lyons, Michael Tighe, and Olmo Tighe, who play Wojnarowicz at the different stages of his life.) And so I'll be generous and give it four. But don't say I didn't warn you.

Gary F. Taylor, aka GFT, Amazon Reviewer