That Certain Summer

 

Pride Month television ...

In 1972, ABC aired Lamont Johnson's made-for-television film That Certain Summer, which starred Hal Holbrook and Martin Sheen as two closeted male companions, Doug and Gary, and Doug's teenaged son, Nick, played by Scott Jacoby.

Doug has been divorced from Nick's mother, Janet (Hope Lange), for some time, but Nick doesn't know his father is gay and in a relationship with another man. Nick comes up from Los Angeles to visit his father in San Francisco (the mecca for gay narratives back in the day), and it's the "discovery" that becomes the fulcrum around which the characters act.

Penned by prolific TV writers Richard Levinson and William Link, the story is a fairly quiet, domestic drama with none of the trenchant speeches in some modern social issue shows. In fact, after reading the script, Holbrook initially turned it down, saying very little happened in it.

Even so, NBC refused to produce it, and ABC insisted on some soft-pedaling the story -- no physical contact between the male partners, for example -- before airing it. A line for Holbrook's character was added to the original screenplay where Doug said if he had a choice he would not have chosen to be gay. An interesting line with many resonating tones of resignation, acceptance, and a bit of fatalism, that today might sound clunky and defeatist.

Though no blood is shed, the film does not end on a cheery note. But it's not artificial either. Janet tells Doug as Nick leaves, dolefully, for LA to "give him time."

Maybe that's what the film was telling the LGBTQ+ community in regards to freedom and equality -- give it time.

TV critics and LGBTQ+ cultural historians point to That Certain Summer as an important step forward for visibility, if not acceptance. Interestingly, despite its star power and historical significance, the film is not available for streaming.

Disclosure Day

 

I have no doubt Steven Spielberg's Disclosure Day will fascinate or enrage audience members, maybe not in equal numbers but enough to make summertime family barbecues even more interesting than they normally are.

In this welcome return to sci-fi thrillers, Spielberg has cast Emily Blunt and Josh O'Connor in the roles of two strangers -- one a Midwest weather reporter named Margaret (Blunt) and the other Daniel, a Washington, D.C., data analyst (O'Connor) -- who seem to be connected to mysterious phenomena occurring just as global tensions start to boil over.

They are being pursued by Daniel's former boss, the humorless head of a tech firm, Noah (a fiendish Colin Firth), who has been handling top secret information for the U.S. government and keeping tabs on alien presences wanting to make uninvited contact. Daniel has stolen this information with plans to distribute it worldwide.

Noah's nemesis Hugo (played by Colman Domingo) is a former staff member leading a force of true believers who feel humankind has run out of answers, patience and time. They welcome an intervention and are proving to be formidable opponents to those wanting to maintain secrecy about what's been documented for decades.

The film is true to the quality one has come to expect from Spielberg's Amblin Studios. It's kinetic and absorbing, the chases (especially an elaborate set-piece involving a speeding train) are riveting and the subplots about the frailty of human connections thoughtful.

The film touches on matters of trust and faith, in both the secular and the spiritual senses, in a secondary story about Daniel's girlfriend Jane, which adds interesting shadings to the story.

Spielberg's staging of the finale -- the "disclosure" -- will frustrate some audience members, understandably, but I am confident it will strike others as "Yes! Perfect!"

I'm in the latter group.