QUICK AND DIRTY: LIVE FROM BERLIN

We watch a man (Jayden Chung) get ready for a hookup with another man. We watch the hookup. We watch him go back home. Rinse and repeat. Various hookups take up the biggest chunk of the film’s 87 minutes. Our leads goes through a metamorphosis with every encounter. He adopts their names, job description, and personalities. And he carries them into his next meet.

The first date is with a young man called Erfan. He’s many things. A musician, a poet, a DJ, and also a molecular science student. They talk, have sex, and then talk some more. At one point, Erfan explains why he chose to study bacteria. We always think of them as interchangeable, he explains, but when you take a closer look, you come to appreciate the individuality they all possess. It’s a fitting aside for a film that seeks to explore Hong Kong through isolated encounters. Erfan and our protagonist get along well, but eventually their meeting comes to an end. When the man arrives at his next date, he readily introduces himself as Erfan, a molecular science student at Honk Kong University, fascinated by bacteria.

With the details of his life and his personality morphing with every encounter, it is initially hard to get a grasp of who this man really is. We don’t know his real name and occupation. Despite the supple identity, some details remain the same. He’s in an open relationship with a boyfriend who lives in another country. He won’t compromise his leftist view: he believes in the fight for freedom and human rights for all.

His mask occasionally slips, revealing a depressed and suicidal young man. Someone who can no longer be buried within. No matter how great or truly awful the hookups turn out to be (one time he wakes up on a distant beach naked and bruised), the return home is always filled with a deafening silence. A sad and empty expression is permanently printed on the poor man’s face.

It isn’t just the film structure that’s simple and straightforward. The technical execution is very austere. Queerpanorama is filmed in black and white, in a 4:3 aspect ratio, with a static camera and very few cuts. The precoital and the post-coital takes are very long, with abundant nudity and sexual content. Jun Li rejects voyeurism by offering viewers a great degree of intimacy, and if we were inside the room, and about to join in.

The dialogue is fascinatingly naturalistic. Much of the story is based on director Jun Li’s real-life experiences using a gay hookup app. Some of the lines are taken straight from these conversations. Some of the actors have no prior acting experience. They use their real names and play themselves, adding a touch of autofiction to the proceedings. As a result, most interactions feel very authentic (with the exception of a couple of wooden deliveries).

This is a movie urgent in its simplicity. It paints the portrait of a sad and lonely man seeking comfort in sex, while also taking viewers on a exciting journey of a very diverse Hong Kong.

Queerpanorama just premiered in the Panorama section of the 75th Berlin International Film Festival.