‘They/They’ Review: Kevin Bacon Plays Conversion Field Slasher Who’s Smarter Than Scary

Respect, renew, rejoice. Those are the three words that greet visitors entering Whilster Camp, the fictional conversion therapy program at the center of John Logan’s terrifying directorial debut. they they. From a distance, the camp and its surroundings look like something else: wooden huts stand on the building, the waters of the calm lake shimmer in the sun, the sky is clear blue. Directors issue and express banal reasons. But the camp is an ominous place, a place where Owen Wilster (a brilliant Kevin Bacon), its director, runs a week-long program to straighten out gay youth.

Conversion therapy, a delusional concept, dates back to at least the 19th century, when Albert von Schrenck-Noetzing, a German psychiatrist, convinced crowds that he had converted a gay man directly through hypnosis. His experiment set an alarming precedent and spawned a whole field of attempts to “cure” homosexuality, now aggressively discredited by the medical community. The treatment, or rather torture, ranged from hypnosis to electric shocks. They never worked and instead cut the receptors, relegating them to painful cycles of self-loathing and shame.

The practice has been the subject of several films and books: Logan’s they they Joins the work of Jamie Babbitt but I’m a fan Desiree Akhavan Cameron Post’s bad manners Or Joel Edgerton The child was eliminated.. But rather than delivering a corny comedy or a coming-of-age drama, Logan examines the practice through the chilling lens of horror. With a great cast, with particularly strong performances by Bacon and Theo Germain, they they He uses the camp slashers plot to demystify the psychological terror of conversion and offers celebratory remarks about queer identity.

Logan, who also wrote the script, is dead wrong. they they It begins with the gruesome murder of a woman driving down a poorly lit street. As he tries to turn off the terrifying audiobook, her car tires slash, causing him to stop. Fans of the genre can guess what happens next. Moments later, his blood-curdling screams are heard as a masked ax slams into his skull.

In the next scene, Owen Wilster welcomes a group of LGBT+ youth to his camp. The slogan “Honor, Rejoice, Renew” flashes in front of the screen. He utters atypical human language dedicated to conversion therapy. By manipulating the language of acceptance, he argues that God does not hate them. “I can’t fix you,” he tells the confused group at camp. “If you’re happy the way you are, then more power to you.” What you want to do is help them accept each other. Bacon’s delivery adds a layer of ambience to this speech, allowing Owen to telegraph one mission while talking about another. Even if you’re not a biblical Christian, armed with scriptures and reminders, viewers know something strange is going on.

Jordan (Theo Germain), a non-binary trans camper, is also questionable. They watch Owen closely, scrutinizing and analyzing his every playful mood. Germaine, a non-binary artist, lives in Jordan with surprising intimacy. The animosity between Owen and Jordan, which grows with each subtle competitive interaction, is one of the film’s most interesting themes.

Jordan made a deal with his family: if they agreed to participate in this show, they could be legally emancipated after it ended. The other campers find themselves in a similar situation: Toby (Austin Krut), a gay black boy and musical theater student, is moving to New York for the weekend, while Veronica (Monique Kim) has come to collect research. conversion therapy.

There are those who hope that Owen’s camp will really change them, like Kim (Anna Lorre), a lesbian torn between self-acceptance and repression, and Stu (Cooper Cocke), a star swimmer trying to break free from heteronormative ideas of perfection. life. Other members of the group include Alexandra (Quiet Tan), a transgender girl whose parents blackmailed her into participating, and Gabriel (Darwin Del Fabro), whose reasons for being at the camp are the most mysterious.

The first few days at Whilster are spent participating in activities designed to build trust within the group. In addition to the mandatory icebreakers and prescribed therapy with Owen’s wife Cora (Carrie Preston), the campers develop truly meaningful relationships with each other. This comes in handy as they begin to discover the dark side of the camp and its history, from constant surveillance to torture methods.

logan pepper they they With some scary scenes, especially when the ax killer arrives at the camp. These gory moments stick to the genre, but aside from a particularly gruesome murder, they’re not as witty or gruesome as you’d expect from Unexpected Victims.

they they More compelling are the psychological terrors LGBTQI+ campers face at the relentless hands of Owen and his team. As Logan builds his characters, the scenes that depict the reality of conversion shows — manipulation therapy, forced gender-norm activities — are as horrible as an ax to the skull.

Within this exploration of the terror of the conversion field is a more optimistic thread about self-acceptance and chosen family. Campers help each other through their painful days on the program, offering support in the form of a shoulder to cry on, extra clothing and advice on an evening skin care routine. Even those who work in the uneven terrain of their repression find solace in this makeshift community. And that’s why they fight, time and time again they choose their freedom.