I stumbled upon this film after seeing MY SUMMER PRINCE, a formulaic Hallmark Channel movie that starred Jack Turner. Impressed by his work, I was surprised to find that his highest profile role aside from PRINCE was in this film -- it is indeed a sign of the times when Hallmark Channel casts an actor associated with gay cinema in one of its treacly, heterocentric romance dramas.
The surprises kept coming: While the British-born Turner is Anglo to his heels in the Hallmark feature, he is American to the core in this film. Blessed with infectious charm, singular speech patterns and genuine depth and connection in his approach to a role, he is able to ingest JC Calciano's idiosyncratic writing of Myles, whose use of English is Webster-ready, and make it wholly believable and compelling. Even his movement in the character speaks to Myles' ever-purposeful nature; just watch the slow, deliberate way he takes off and stowes his apron in a closet as he prepares for his latest, sure-to-be ill-fated dinner for two.
THE 10 YEAR PLAN does not inspire a viewer's confidence from outward appearances. The title itself, the weathered hook involving two friends who contract to be each other's back-up plan if both are single at midlife, and the semi-nude promo art all threaten a superficial excursion into the lowest bowels of gay cinema (if Myles saw the poster art, he would say, "The shirt stays on, non-negotiable"). But the film itself stretches happily beyond these perimeters. It begins with a mouth-watering main title sequence, wherein Christopher Farrell's jaunty score is a rhythmic, seductive appetizer for the dance to come, seamlessly merging with a gorgeously photographed montage of the culinary preparation for a first date (you have never seen a more artful capture of scotch being poured into a glass of ice). This sense of style permeates the film; it is beautifully considered and executed from start to finish.
There are regrettable gaps and misfires in the plotting, as has been pointed out with vitriol elsewhere on these pages, as well as standard flip and/or painfully reminiscent 'movie' dialogue, supporting characters that are either superficial (Diane), stereotypical (Richard) or gratuitous (Myles' neighbor), but Calciano is essentially immune to attack based solely on his central writing and casting of Myles and Brody. These men are honestly drawn. We have known them -- or been them -- two people doing their best to survive in a world where gay men are often led to live in extremes, finding themselves far from where they meant to go. It is inevitable, given the film's premise, that Myles and Brody will end up together, but their path to arrival is unpredictable. This is achieved largely through the live- wire chemistry between Turner and Michael Adam Hamilton. Both possessed of faces that speak myriad thoughts and emotions minus any need for dialogue, they are natural unto themselves, and as a unit even more so. At every stage of the characters' development, Turner and Hamilton are present and accounted for, endearing, electric and wholly committed to the relationship they're forging. Their final moment of truth, and, especially, Calciano's inspired coda-with-a-twist before the final fade, are flawlessly executed.
Another element that propels this film beyond traditional gay-themed fare is Calciano's ability to glean subtle insight from the parade of men moving in and out of his protagonists' lives. Witness Kodi's barely-masked self-hatred at his inability to embrace Myles' many kindnesses, intimating that he feels unworthy of someone caring about him to such an extent. Or a basic Nebraskan like Steven Adams losing his sense of self, becoming all things to all men in order to achieve the sexual click with whomever crosses his threshold. See the fear and vulnerability in the eyes of Myles or David, nervously "meeting a strange man in the middle of the night" for the first time. With the advent of the internet, the film emphasizes, one-night stands have become fifteen-minute handshakes. Following one of these, a man is candidly told that most likely there won't be a next time. He offers his departing guest a shower nonetheless, which the guest declines, citing that he "didn't break a sweat." The host holds his composure until he is alone, at which point Calciano's camera lingers on him as he exhales a quiet, soul-crushing sigh of disposability. Even through the lens of romantic comedy, these themes are achingly real, and, when totaled, go far in illustrating the myriad challenges gay men face in their search for connection in a culture that promotes the opposite. You can feel these characters' expectations -- and hopes -- being dashed inch by inch, and their numbness rising proportionately. Most pointedly, there's a reason it takes the leading men in this story a decade to find themselves and each other; there are too many items on the menu, and it becomes challenging -- and confusing -- to determine where strangers become bedmates, bedmates become friends, and friends become partners.
Ironically, viewing THE 10 YEAR PLAN on the heels of a Hallmark Channel movie makes one realize how far gay cinema has come toward the mainstream, warts and all. In effect, Calciano's film is cut from the same cloth -- the scoring (the soundtrack album is worth owning), the set-up, the stock characters, the inevitable conclusion, even the 90-minute running time are all reminiscent of the formula that allows Hallmark movies to hit the same target month after month, year after year. But with two men at the axis of that formula, it is quite a different proposition for an audience weary of the mousy heroines in the hetero counterparts.
Calciano has created a film to watch, and watch again. Gay people will identify with most, if not all, points of the spectrum. Straight people will learn a lot about gay people's lives. And, perhaps, gay cinema takes a memorable step forward.
The surprises kept coming: While the British-born Turner is Anglo to his heels in the Hallmark feature, he is American to the core in this film. Blessed with infectious charm, singular speech patterns and genuine depth and connection in his approach to a role, he is able to ingest JC Calciano's idiosyncratic writing of Myles, whose use of English is Webster-ready, and make it wholly believable and compelling. Even his movement in the character speaks to Myles' ever-purposeful nature; just watch the slow, deliberate way he takes off and stowes his apron in a closet as he prepares for his latest, sure-to-be ill-fated dinner for two.
THE 10 YEAR PLAN does not inspire a viewer's confidence from outward appearances. The title itself, the weathered hook involving two friends who contract to be each other's back-up plan if both are single at midlife, and the semi-nude promo art all threaten a superficial excursion into the lowest bowels of gay cinema (if Myles saw the poster art, he would say, "The shirt stays on, non-negotiable"). But the film itself stretches happily beyond these perimeters. It begins with a mouth-watering main title sequence, wherein Christopher Farrell's jaunty score is a rhythmic, seductive appetizer for the dance to come, seamlessly merging with a gorgeously photographed montage of the culinary preparation for a first date (you have never seen a more artful capture of scotch being poured into a glass of ice). This sense of style permeates the film; it is beautifully considered and executed from start to finish.
There are regrettable gaps and misfires in the plotting, as has been pointed out with vitriol elsewhere on these pages, as well as standard flip and/or painfully reminiscent 'movie' dialogue, supporting characters that are either superficial (Diane), stereotypical (Richard) or gratuitous (Myles' neighbor), but Calciano is essentially immune to attack based solely on his central writing and casting of Myles and Brody. These men are honestly drawn. We have known them -- or been them -- two people doing their best to survive in a world where gay men are often led to live in extremes, finding themselves far from where they meant to go. It is inevitable, given the film's premise, that Myles and Brody will end up together, but their path to arrival is unpredictable. This is achieved largely through the live- wire chemistry between Turner and Michael Adam Hamilton. Both possessed of faces that speak myriad thoughts and emotions minus any need for dialogue, they are natural unto themselves, and as a unit even more so. At every stage of the characters' development, Turner and Hamilton are present and accounted for, endearing, electric and wholly committed to the relationship they're forging. Their final moment of truth, and, especially, Calciano's inspired coda-with-a-twist before the final fade, are flawlessly executed.
Another element that propels this film beyond traditional gay-themed fare is Calciano's ability to glean subtle insight from the parade of men moving in and out of his protagonists' lives. Witness Kodi's barely-masked self-hatred at his inability to embrace Myles' many kindnesses, intimating that he feels unworthy of someone caring about him to such an extent. Or a basic Nebraskan like Steven Adams losing his sense of self, becoming all things to all men in order to achieve the sexual click with whomever crosses his threshold. See the fear and vulnerability in the eyes of Myles or David, nervously "meeting a strange man in the middle of the night" for the first time. With the advent of the internet, the film emphasizes, one-night stands have become fifteen-minute handshakes. Following one of these, a man is candidly told that most likely there won't be a next time. He offers his departing guest a shower nonetheless, which the guest declines, citing that he "didn't break a sweat." The host holds his composure until he is alone, at which point Calciano's camera lingers on him as he exhales a quiet, soul-crushing sigh of disposability. Even through the lens of romantic comedy, these themes are achingly real, and, when totaled, go far in illustrating the myriad challenges gay men face in their search for connection in a culture that promotes the opposite. You can feel these characters' expectations -- and hopes -- being dashed inch by inch, and their numbness rising proportionately. Most pointedly, there's a reason it takes the leading men in this story a decade to find themselves and each other; there are too many items on the menu, and it becomes challenging -- and confusing -- to determine where strangers become bedmates, bedmates become friends, and friends become partners.
Ironically, viewing THE 10 YEAR PLAN on the heels of a Hallmark Channel movie makes one realize how far gay cinema has come toward the mainstream, warts and all. In effect, Calciano's film is cut from the same cloth -- the scoring (the soundtrack album is worth owning), the set-up, the stock characters, the inevitable conclusion, even the 90-minute running time are all reminiscent of the formula that allows Hallmark movies to hit the same target month after month, year after year. But with two men at the axis of that formula, it is quite a different proposition for an audience weary of the mousy heroines in the hetero counterparts.
Calciano has created a film to watch, and watch again. Gay people will identify with most, if not all, points of the spectrum. Straight people will learn a lot about gay people's lives. And, perhaps, gay cinema takes a memorable step forward.