Glitter & Doom: gay romance, circus and folky rock n' roll

REVIEW by Drew Rowsome - Photos courtesy of Music Box Films
24 Apr 2024 -

Every Inside Out festival is packed with films that intrigue, and every year it is impossible to preview them all. I have no doubts that the upcoming festival—Friday, May 24 to Saturday, June 1—will be the same. The closing gala of last year's Inside Out was a film that was at the top of my preview list, and one that I did not get to see until now, when it has had a theatrical run and is available on VOD. Glitter & Doom was worth waiting for. The synopsis—"Glitter & Doom follows the love-at-first-sight connection between carefree circus performer Glitter (Alex Diaz) and struggling musician Doom (Alan Cammish)"—and it being a musical made it a must-see. Gay romance, circus and rock n' roll are three of my favourite things. Combined with visual flair by director Tom Gustafson and set in a Mexico City of oversaturated colour, with a supporting cast of queer superstars— Lea DeLaria, Tig Notaro, Kate Pierson, Peppermint, and the Indigo Girls' Amy Ray and Emily Saliers—Glitter & Doom is an effervescent delight.

We meet Doom auditioning for a slot at a nightclub. His somewhat mopey folk songs fail to impress bar owner Lea DeLaria (who really should have been given more to do) but he continues to write while at his day job in historical preservation. Glitter is creating audition tapes for circus school. His street performances contain a juggling act with flaming bowling pins. While he consistently drops a pin before the climax, he has the pizzazz finale bow for applause honed to perfection. Glitter's mother Birdy (Ming-Na Wen) is a corporate big wig who indulges her son, but has a secret that makes her want him to join the firm instead of the circus. Doom's past traumas don't surface until later in the film. Glitter spies Doom at a dance club and, after knocking back an impressive number of shots, pursues him. The romance is cute, halting and a bit disjointed, but by the time they actually get physical (refreshingly late in their relationship, frustratingly late in the film, they are both beautiful specimens) it is rom-com relief erotic. But will they be able to reconcile their divergent career ambitions and emotional blockages?

The circus elements are, sadly, less ambitious, but become the highlight of the latter section of the film. I hope it isn't a spoiler to let it slip that Glitter does run away with the circus to the extent that he attends clown school in Paris. This also answers the question of just where is the prominently billed Tag Notaro. As the instructor at the clown school, Notaro is suitably hilarious. Her introductory line—"One true clown is born every half century. Too bad for all of you."—is so drily delivered that it scorches. The clown training and brief circus scenes are worth waiting for but, again alas, far too brief. It is also a shame that Glitter is a mime clown: Diaz appears to have a fine voice that is underutilized. He is also an engagingly seductive physical presence, something that could have been exploited more in the production numbers. It's a good thing that Diaz does possess abundant shirtless appeal: his character, in his relentless pursuit of Doom, comes close to being obnoxious and clingy, saved only by charm, a radiant smile, and the ability to do acrobatic suggestive splits.

Which brings us to the music. Glitter & Doom is a jukebox musical in that all the songs are culled from the Indigo Girls catalogue. I feel very remiss as a gay man who has attended countless Pride events and lesbian folk festivals, but I am not familiar with the Indigo Girls' songs or style. What is in the film is of three distinct varieties. The group numbers in the first half are suitably beat-heavy and lyrically vague to convey the excitement of falling in love. The song fragments that Cammish is given to sing are less appealing. Part of the problem is the delivery. He has been encouraged to sing in that wistful folky manner with scooped intro notes and trailing off end phrases. It is very obvious why Doom is a "struggling" musician and sadly his ascension comes across as improbable at best, even for a fairy tale version of the music business. The energy takes a dramatic turn halfway through the film with the introduction of Missi Pyle as Doom's mother. While the character is essentially extraneous, Pyle's powerful pipes galvanize the soundtrack and kick Cammish in the butt so that he is forced to match her. Doom trades in his Tegan and Sara t-shirt for Pansy Division tour merch and roars to prima voce. And the entire film comes to glorious musical life.

Some of Glitter & Doom's ambitions are undone by its budget or time constraints. The editing occasionally gets frenetic trying to compensate for missing plot coherence or continuity, but the big musical numbers are engaging and look lavish. And of course musical numbers are not moored to reality so there is a certain latitude afforded to the rest of the film. The chemistry between Diaz and Cammish, while believable, is more endearing than carnally scorching. When they skinny dip or snog wearing clown noses, one can't help but root for the romantic connection. And, again, when they do finally get physical, it is explosive with that heat that only love and anticipation can add to lust. In this fantasy world, same-sex romance is not even commented upon, just refreshingly taken for granted. Though there is a preponderance of lesbians, all genders and letters of the queer acronym are represented. Most importantly, when Glitter & Doom whole-heartedly embraces the joyful clichés that make for a cathartic musical finale, it works like a charm. We end up with a satisfied smile on our faces, a bounce in our step, and a song in our hearts. Almost the equivalent of running away with the circus for a few hours.