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How did being queer look like in the modernist and postmodernist literary eras? Hypnotized by the works of W. Somerset Maugham, E. M. Forster, and Tennessee Williams in my childhood, I could always sense there was something “more” to their characters and subtexts. The novels and plays contained characters who were imprisoned within themselves. Neither of them ever openly came out as homosexual in their lifetime. Yet, history has been kind to the legacy they carved. In filmmaker Will Seefried’s Lilies Not for Me, history hits us in the gut. Inspired by the horrifying chapter that Walter Jackson Freeman II wrote in gay history, the film takes us through the life of a young writer.
Before Maugham and Williams, Oscar Wilde (also a gay icon) in his brief yet celebrated life championed the Aesthetic Movement. The lily symbolized purity, rebellion, and feminine beauty among aesthetes. That possibly explains the title of Seefried’s film aside from the passage Owen (Fionn O’Shea) reads for a man. The film swings back and forth between timelines (splendid work by editor Julia Bloch) to give us a glistening account of queer love and a dubious conversion therapy practiced in the early 19th century. Lilies Not for Me opens in an asylum for gay men where the nurses masquerade as “dates” to get these men back on track. Owen is lucky to have Dorothy (Erin Kellyman) – a good-hearted nurse who is new to both romantic novels and dating.
The universe Lilies Not for Me creates in the flashback portions is how I imagined the universes of Maugham and Forster. Be it the quaint cottage Owen lives in, the meadows, the trees, the free expression of love, or the intimate nature of the rooms and the yard filled with flowers – the film is a visual manifestation of paintings from Wilde’s movement. Not only are the walls filled with aesthetic art, but the supple nature of Theodosia Roussos’ music, too, contributes to weaving a world that is too beautiful to be true.
When Owen gets a visitor in the form of an old friend Philip, we observe the surroundings closer. A medical student, Philip is convinced that they are “sick” and needs to be treated. In what must possibly be a harrowing watch for many, life changes for Philip. In a fleeting exchange between Owen and him, Philip (a medical doctor) places God over science – a statement that the former corrects. And just like that, what could have been a magical love story comes to a premature end. In comes Charlie, a charming man who has worked a way around his queerness. The man names his wife as his best friend and it does not take him long to forge a bond with Owen. Seefried’s, in no time, becomes a triangular romance that brims with two possibilities – one of rebellion and another of sheer violence.
Cut to the present, the radicalist staff at the infirmary are no less dastardly than Nurse Ratched. The syringes are mercilessly pricked. The doors are lashed, never gently closed. Without a typewriter and with a mind that is flooded by a tormenting story, Owen endures this abuse for the fault of being himself.
Lilies Not for Me is not only a cameraperson and production designer’s delight but also the writer’s tour de force. When the film opens with a “based on historical facts”, it knows the responsibility it embraces. Seefried’s documentation of an era spilled with seething crimes against the members of the LGBTQIA+ community, angers us upon learning how a quote from ‘Curing Queers’ holds relevance a century later.
The actors dress magnificently in crisp shirts, fitting pleated trousers and coats. Seefried’s portrayal of nudity is both aesthetic and liberating. The intense closeup of the leads’ skin in contact is never meant to titillate. They might as well work as independent art pieces with a brave new language.
Playing the lead, Fionn O’Shea with his porcelain skin and dove-like eyes is a striking picture of vulnerability. The actor navigates complex and physically vexing scenes with a veteran’s assuredness and the chemistry he forges with his male co-actors adds further sheen to the film. Robert Aramayo paints the scheming Philip with the right blend of mystery and bravado. Louis Hofmann, in a brief yet pivotal part, is a gorgeous man – right out of aesthetic art. The stunning Erin Kellyman gets less meat to chew on, yet the actor is aptly cast as an oasis of kindness in a no-gay-man’s land of violence.
Lilies Not for Me is meticulously researched and it tenders a century-old apology to members of the queer community. It chronicles a series of events that cannot be undone but can only be viewed with dazed eyes, severe highs, and oodles of empathy for the men who persisted in a barbaric era. Will Seefried’s debut fare (which I missed at NewFest 2024) deserves wider showcasing and may its IFFI gig skyrocket its reach to cinema lovers and gay activists in Asia.
Rating: ★★★★
Lilies Not for Me was screened at the 55th International Film Festival of India (IFFI, Goa).
