Just a small point today, but one that has stayed with me since I first saw DOG DAY AFTERNOON, written by Frank Pierson and directed by Sidney Lumet.
For those who don't know it, the film's about a heist that goes wrong, with Al Pacino's Sonny Wortzik right in the middle, trying to find a way for him and his partner Sal to get out of there alive and with the money they've taken.
It's a captivating film. It keeps zigging left where you think it's going to go right. When the cops make a move on him in public, Sonny turns it into a referendum on them and the abuses of prisoners at Attica, and the watching crowd just goes crazy for him. Likewise when food arrives he insists on going out and paying for it, once again making him beloved by the crowd.
By the time we hit the midpoint it really feels like anything can happen in this film. We're so all in.
And then--and only then--does the story reveal that the wife Sonny has been wanting to talk to is in fact his transgender second wife, that in fact he robbed this bank to try and pay for her transition.
There's another version of this movie whose first act leads with the fact that he's queer and his partner doesn't have the money for surgery, and takes it from there. It might have worked that way, too. But by holding that information back, we get to start right in the middle of everything, which is a much more energetic launch. It also allows the reveal of Sonny's queerness to be simultaneously much more organic and uncovered at the point of maximum surprise. Which is a great trick.
There's a queer piano bar I love in New York City called Marie's Crisis Café. And sometimes the crowds there will shout, "Sing a gay song!' It's meant as a joke, but it also resonates with mainstream Hollywood storytelling, which often think if you have queer you need to lead with it, because that's where the story is.
In some ways DOG DAY is more powerful because it doesn't lead with queer. Sonny is so comfortable with who he is, and loves his wife so much, he doesn't even think of presenting himself in that way. This is what you do for love, is the point, not Hey, we're queer.
What's the story I'm trying to tell? And what serves that story best? That's what should be driving our choices, and nothing else.
