IN & OUT: Blu-ray (Paramount, 1997) Paramount Home Video

The insidious blood sport of being publicly ‘outed’ was lampooned in director, Frank Oz’s In & Out (1997), an escapist, but rather diffident entertainment that makes short shrift and light of a very ugly chapter in American pop culture. A pause here, I think, and very important to note that in the early 1980’s, with the, as yet, incorrectly diagnosed AIDS pandemic shamefully branded a ‘gay’ disease, the exposing of individuals who were either infected, or not, though, nevertheless of the homosexual persuasion, was a truly embarrassing hiccup in tabloid journalism to humiliate, dismantle and otherwise leave many a career and reputation in tatters. In the 1950’s, if you wanted to destroy someone’s livelihood you labeled them a communist or communist sympathizer. In the 80’s, you carpet-hauled them through the shame of already being ‘closeted’, outed and ridiculed with cruel ‘fag’ jokes. None of this insidiousness is actually acknowledged in In & Out, a feather-weight ‘charmer’ that has its proverbial ‘stick’ already out to poke at both the closeted gay man, played with impish confusion by the classically-trained Kevin Kline, and, the bumbling, but otherwise well-intentioned hick-sters of the Norman Rockwell-esque town of Greenleaf, Indiana, most of who believe they have never actually seen a homosexual before, much less able to acknowledge the one living in their midst.

The cream of the jest is uncomfortably anchored in the ambivalence and thorough disbelief immediately to follow actor, Cameron Drake’s (Matt Dillon) televised Oscar-acceptance speech, in which he publicly thanks local drama teacher, Howard Brackett (Kevin Kline) for inspiring him to pursue his dream, adding “…and he’s gay.” In the aftermath of this revelation, Brackett’s bewildered parents (played by Wilford Brimley and Debbie Reynolds), and, Howard’s fiancée, Emily Montgomery (Joan Cusack) have a lot of questions, as, seemingly, does Howard who, rather bizarrely, has never considered his own homosexuality until this outing. Yeah – right!  In 1997, Oz could still get away with this premise, I suppose – however grotesquely flawed and silly, and, with plenty of mindlessly, non-offensive, bordering on ‘cute’, gay jokes to help bolster his one-hit-wonder’s stab as an incredulous rom/com. Asked as to whether or not the presumption of his homosexuality shines through, Bob Newhart’s dead-pan high school principal, Tom Halliwell coolly requests, “Would you walk for me?”  At the time of its release, In & Out was rather sincerely embraced and praised by the critics for its frank depiction of being gay in middle-class/Bible-belt America. Personally, I could not disagree more. Even in 1997, the picture tingled with a tinny hypocrisy of the ‘it’s okay to make fun of gay people’ ilk, starting with Klein’s closeted Brackett, disingenuous with his soon-to-be, bride, Emily who has lost 75 lbs. just for the occasion, and, his own parents, who desperately ‘need’ their only son to marry – preferably, a girl… “It’s like heroin!”

That Howard should not have known he was gay until being told as much by and ‘out’sider is an anathema and, frankly, an insult to every gay man who implicitly appreciated his own proclivity, practically from birth, even if some were to keep it quietly hidden from their loved ones for fear of reprisals and public backlash. But Howard seems genuinely startled to have been ‘outed’ on TV, begging the additional inquiry as to how his one-time pupil come movie star knew more, as clearly, the movie is careful to illustrate no such ‘improprieties’ have ever occurred between Howard and Cam’ while the latter was still a student.  If Howard never told Cameron that he was gay, and never even made a pass at him, then Cameron’s speculations now are not only slanderous, but rift for a libel suit. Grafted onto this already thoroughly rickety premise are the overtly countrified folk of Greenleaf, represented as good-hearted, but otherwise dimwitted dullards and ding-a-lings. Determined to tread lightly on their skewed and incredibly limited knowledge, high school jock, Mike (Zak Orth) attempts to ‘educate’ his fellow footballers on ‘innies’ and ‘outies’ – orifices on the human body that are not supposed to be used for alternative purposes. Meanwhile, Howard’s pals (Ernie Sabella, Dan Hedaya) host a ‘stag party’, substituting porn with video tapes of Barbra Streisand in Funny Girl (1968) and Yentl (1983). Ancient Aunt Susan (Alice Drummond) openly admits she never care for The Bridges of Madison County (1995) while fellow ‘educator’, Carl Mickely (Kevin Chamberlain), rather crudely informed by fellow teacher, Mrs. Lester (Debra Monk) that Howard “likes dick”, obtusely inquires, “Dick who?”

Tom Selleck is in this one too, as a dashing reporter who coaxes Howard from his social angst by confessing his own homosexuality to him. “Is everybody gay?” Emily rants, having been jilted – first, at the altar by Howard – then, able to profess himself a gay man in the sight of his friends, community and God. Okay, we’ll leave religion out of it, as it clearly plays no part in the picture anyway, even if Barbra Streisand inadvertently did, with a disgruntled Emily admonishing the star with a four-letter explicative. Given the low-balling of all this hyperbole and clichés about what actually makes a gay man gay, I rather expected screenwriter, Paul Rudnick to go for the absolute jugular in clichés to invent a scene where someone spins some Judy Garland records at the sock-hop. But I digress. Reportedly, Rudnick pilfered his initial inspiration from Tom Hanks’ Oscar-acceptance speech for 1993’s Philadelphia, as Hanks inadvertently outed one of his former teachers on live television. In the movie, this moment is inaccurately recreated, with Matt Dillon – as local man-crush makes good, winning Oscar gold for playing a gay man in a war movie – “Mr. Brackett…we won!” Within minutes of Cameron’s worldwide announcement, the tiny pastoral enclave of Greenleaf is thrown into a tizzy, beating a path to Howard’s front door to gawk at the ‘sideshow freak’ in their midst. And the simpering whiz-bang of toadying humor that follows only mounts from there. Determined to prove to himself he is a straight man, Howard employs the nineties derivative of ‘aversion therapy’ - motivational tapes, designed to make a ‘real’ man of him as a disembodied ‘butch’ male voice (John Cunningham), spouts off idiotic signifiers like, ‘Yo!’ and ‘Hot damn!’ while inferring such extremes as John Wayne and Arnold Schwarzenegger as the ‘norm’ all straight men aspire to – “Arnold doesn't dance. He can barely walk.” And then, there are Howard’s parents to consider, Berniece (Reynolds) and Frank (Brimley) who promise to love their son, “gay, straight, red, green” even if he robs a bank, murders someone or gets wasted and climbs “the clock tower to take out the town.”  What a lovely sentiment - if only it did not equate Howard’s sexual preference with indecent behavior, criminal activities and other acts of extreme violence against humanity!

Hitchcock would likely have paused here to interject “It’s only a movie” and, of course, I must concur. It only is. But a good one, In & Out is not, leaving the homosexual act of love-making to be deciphered by a pack of curious and cringe-worthy high school boys, deeming sexual penetration between men as permissible only in prison “where it’s a substitute” or “in space”, where, arguably, it is not ‘on purpose’, as astronauts just happen to “…float into each other!” Not all of the humor in In & Out is so crass in its bumbled walks on the wild side of ‘blue’ inquiry, as in the vein of what white-bred country bumpkins generally think of when even the word ‘gay’ is uttered in hushed conversation. I am reminded of the moment immediately following Cameron’s outing, when a startled and sweaty Howard suggests to his family, “I may sue” to which his dad, Frank immediately replies, “Get Johnnie Cochran - not that woman.” Now, that’s funny! But the bulk of the gawk and goo here is squarely situated on how many gay guffaws screenwriter, Paul Rudnick can squeeze into the movie’s slender 90-minutes, right down to having Howard flame-out while spinning the Village People’s Macho Man – that late-70’s anthem to male ruggedness.

To recap: Howard Brackett is a high school teacher living in the Bible-belt town of Greenleaf, Indiana. His former pupil, Cameron Drake has just been Oscar-nominated for his portrayal of a gay soldier. Naturally, the whole town is agog and buzzing with excitement. Cameron just might win. And in fact, he does. Unfortunately for Howard and his fiancée, Emily Montgomery, elation turns to bewilderment when Cameron publicly thanks Howard for his guidance and tutelage; then, informs the audience and the world, Howard is gay. Outside of fifteen minutes, Howard’s mother, Bernice and father, Frank are knocking on his door, demanding to know the truth about their son’s sexual orientation. Worse, Howard’s principal, Tom Halliwell begins to have second thoughts about Howard staying on as an educator. Presumably, his ‘gayness’ will rub off on the students and faculty. Naturally, Howard denies Cameron’s allegations, pawning the onus onto Hollywood’s crazy lifestyle having turned his former student’s head. Besides, Howard’s wedding to Emily is slated for the following week. He can’t be gay…or can he? If his friends and family are willing to accept Howard at face value, the paparazzi beyond the borders of Greenleaf are not. In no time, a ‘media frenzy’ ensues in the heart of rural America. Hot shot television tabloid journalist, Peter Malloy (Tom Selleck) arrives for the real scoop and is treated to a litany of rumors and innuendo from Howard’s closest associates. As luck would have it, all of this intense scrutiny eventually leads to a breaking point. Howard is forced to admit to Emily he is, in fact, gay. Predictably again, this is done at the most inopportune moment – their wedding. However, this being a ‘comedy’ – life, and the town go on, the reception transformed into a ‘coming out’ party, with the whole town admitting their ‘shocking’ foibles.

In & Out feels more like a sophomoric comedy from the late seventies or mid-eighties. By 1997, 'outing' someone was hardly a ‘new’ experience. So, whatever socio-political wallop the movie might have possessed has missed its mark by nearly 20 years of National Enquirer headlines. To be sure, there are a few fun moments scattered throughout this picture. But the story here is so one-dimensional, and just a bit too coy, the performances – more than a tad rehearsed, that the result is much too contrived and straining for its laughs. Greenleaf's conservatives are painted as local yokels whose rudimentary comprehension of the gay lifestyle is supposed to appear fun-lovingly misguided. Kevin Klein does his level best to be the amiable fop, liberated from their small-town prudery. Alas, he is rather unconvincing as the presumed ‘straight man’ (pun intended) at the outset, and more than a cheap lampoon of the ‘flaming queen’ once he recognizes his true predilection. So, we believe Cameron’s allegation from the outset. And, rather heavy-handedly (pun intended again), Klein’s Howard punctuates his moment of nationally televised ‘outing’ by allowing his wrist to go limp – a sure-fire movie cliché to signify on which side of the bread his butter is spread. Joan Cusack provides some stylized comedic touches. But on the whole, Cusack and the rest of the cast here are broad-brushing their subject material with ‘summer stock’ theatricality that tumbles, bumbles and stumbles around the elephant in the room – Howard’s burgeoning gayness and the town’s bewildering acceptance of it. Beautifully photographed by Rob Hahn, with art direction by Ken Adam, rather embarrassingly, In & Out treats homosexuality as a fanciful figment to be overcome, and homosexuals as good-natured figures of fun - neither, decidedly, a very progressive approach for the out and out acceptance of gay culture, circa 1997.

Some comedies become timeless with age, while others merely date with the passage of time. Viewed today, In & Out has lost even more steam and finesse than it had – or lacked – in 1997. And Paramount Home Video’s new-to-Blu hasn’t exactly improved the picture’s prospects either.  While the 1080p image here is virtually free of age-related artifacts, colors are generally anemic. Flesh tones are either pasty and yellowish or ruddy orange. Worse, fine detail is wholly wanting.  Ron Hahn’s cinematography was never meant to be crisp. Indeed, he appears to be using some sort of mild diffusion filter to evoke an idyllic atmosphere, caught in the perpetual bucolic afterglow of late summer. But what’s here just looks like an old video master rather than a new scan of original film elements.  There is no afterglow. Just a soft and slightly out of focus image that only occasionally satisfies. So, contrast is weak and fine details get lost in the dimly lit and photographed backgrounds, especially night scenes which tend to run into a murky mess. The edge enhancement that plagued the DVD is gone. But it’s the overall smoothness of the image that creates eye-strain here. The DTS 5.1 doesn’t go far beyond the DVD’s original Dolby Digital presentation. This is a dialogue-driven movie, so there’s nowhere to truly exhibit DTS’s capabilities. And, like the DVD, a theatrical trailer is the only extra we get on the Blu.  Bottom line: there are better comedies about being gay in America, and better rom/coms in general than In & Out. And a lot better examples of Blu-ray mastering too. Pass, and be glad that you did!

FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)

2.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

3.5

EXTRAS

0