Nothing bounds a community together like shared trauma, and the most valiant of artists are those who are able to step forward in an effort to capture the intricacies of these challenges, particularly at a time when it was often difficult to tell such stories, Bill Sherwood is not a name that many can recall – a well-rounded and visionary artist whose life was tragically cut short in the early 1990s when he died from complications of HIV/AIDS, one of the many victims lost to an epidemic of impossible proportions. His legacy is essentially condensed into a single film, his beautiful and poignant comedy Parting Glances, in which he focuses on the trials and tribulations of a gay couple living and working in Manhattan in the 1980s, following them over the course of a day as they prepare for a brief separation as one of them ventures off to work on Africa for a while, a major life change that they both feel with uproot their entire existence, despite their fervent efforts to say that it is only a minor obstacle in their otherwise ironclad relationship, which they truly believe (at least on the surface) will be easy to maintain from a distance. Exploring their relationship through the lens of a city and culture that is rapidly changing, Sherwood offers us valuable insights into the lives of people who have only just started to feel comfortable living openly as themselves, and now have to endure the lingering dread of a disease gradually dismantling the fabric of their community. A compassionate, heartfelt and genuinely endearing film that is wonderfully adept at tackling many different themes in tandem, Parting Glances is a vital entry into the canon of queer films, made at a time when the subjects being portrayed were still very new and unsettling, the director ensuring that his vision, as simple as it may have been, is actually solidly-crafted and genuinely very moving in terms of how it offers a gentle but meaningful account of the gay community at a time when representation was more needed than ever, achieving something very special with a story that could have been overwrought without this precise and earnest perspective.

When a community finally gets the chance to have their stories told on screen, particularly those coming from marginalized groups, there’s a tendency for these artists to attempt to compress the entire existence and spirit of their identity into a singular work, and as we have seen over time, this rarely yields results that are anything less than heavy-handed and dense. However, it is understandable that such an approach should be taken, especially after decades (or even centuries) of having to hide a particular aspect of one’s identity before it was viewed as commercially viable, or even just acceptable for general consumers. Parting Glances, to be fair, is not a mainstream production – its a small, intimate independent drama filmed quite crudely and without too many resources supporting the director and his cast. However, his approach was not to tell the entire history of the queer community, or explore every intricate detail of the LGBTQIA+ experience, but rather to offer a small but meaningful glimpse into the lives of a few ordinary people as they navigate a few different challenges. The film is set over roughly 24 hours, which gives Sherwood some structure, as well as preventing him from dwelling too long on the history, since the forward-momentum is exactly what makes the film so memorable, with its frequent efforts to get to a different point, rather than expending too much time on a single idea, being the source of many of its most impactful moments. The focus is very specific and looks at a small group of characters, who are never viewed as being definitive of the community or the most accurate representatives, but rather the conventional, unremarkable individuals who form the foundation of the community, rather than standing out in any kind of exceptional way. Sherwood was more interested in looking at the relationships between these people, and how their individual quandaries intermingle with the growing sense of fear and panic beginning to envelope their community, which play a part in not only their own identities, but how they perceive their community as a whole, a very interesting perspective that Sherwood handles with a lot of affection and sincerity.

The challenge when it came to Parting Glances wasn’t in the story being told – by all accounts, this is a very simple and unfurnished premise that relies on its simplicity to be effective – but rather the specific tone the film took, especially considering the era in which it was made. It was not the first instance of HIV/AIDS being central to a story about the queer community, but we find that in other works that tackle the subject, its far more sombre and disconcerting, which was the appropriate manner in which to look at the topic, but not one that Sherwood was entirely intent on using as the foundation for this film. Ultimately, we actually realize that the disease is not as central to the plot as we expected – one of the main characters is living with the condition, but he’s viewed as being someone doing his best to live as fulfilling a life as he can, seizing every moment as if it was the last, knowing that he is likely going to die young, and making the most of whatever time he has left. This sub-plot is very important to the film, but only for the sake of attempting to show an authentic and compassionate view of the gay community at a time when they were viewed as deviants and disease-riddled pariahs that should be rejected according to social standards. The director works laboriously to make sure that the story isn’t heavy-handed in the sense that it is 90 minutes of pure misery, which is not an irrelevant approach in general, but ultimately not the right one for this film, which attempts to be a far more layered, complex character study. The stream-of-consciousness approach (which comes about as a result of the film being set over a single day) helps in creating a very unique tone, one that blends comedy and drama exceptionally well, bouncing between the two in a way that is beautiful and heartfelt, showing that such an intense subject can be handled in a sincere and charming way, where the tragedy isn’t rendered redundant or non-existent, but rather doesn’t occupy the focus of the film in terms of how it investigates the lives of people simply trying to navigate a world that has grown hostile to their existence, showing the importance of community and the support needed in times of such extraordinary difficulty.

In keeping with the communal aspect of the story, we find that Parting Glances spends a lot of time developing its central characters, crafting a small but impactful ensemble in which we witness the overlapping lives of a group of people who are connected by being part of the queer community, or at least sympathetic to them to the point where they become part of the body of allies that support and provide assistance where its required. The two leads are played by Richard Ganoung and John Bolger, neither one of them household name but still very much actors involved in telling vitally important stories at a time when it was risky to be this open about your values and identity. They’re both very good – Ganoung is the de facto lead of the two, since he’s the person whose journey we follow most closely, but Bolger brings a lot of stoicism to a part that counteracts the slightly more immature, youthful energy exuded by his co-star, the two having excellent chemistry and genuinely convincing us that these characters were deeply in love with one another. Steve Buscemi, in one of his earliest roles, plays the film’s tragic hero, a young man diagnosed as HIV positive, and who has to battle against not only his own realization of his mortality, but the social stigma, all the while trying to maintain his upbeat, joyful demeanour, which becomes increasingly difficult as time progresses and his insecurities and fears become more prominent. The film is primarily a character study, and everyone in the ensemble is doing exceptionally strong work (even those in the supporting parts – the film contains some beautifully compassionate work being done by Kathy Kinney, Patrick Tull and Yolande Bavan as peripheral characters who are integral to the premise), which gives the film a genuine sense of heartfulness that is only achieved through treating these characters as fully-formed individuals, rather than thin, one-dimensional archetypes.

The fact that we are able to watch a film like Parting Glances, nearly 40 years since its release, and view it as a remnant of the past is actually an extremely positive sign, since this tackles one of the few subjects that we are glad to perceive as being outdated. The peak of the HIV epidemic was a harrowing period, and the trauma still lingers within the community, even if we have made considerable strides forward in terms of medicine and technology that has allowed those with the disease to live fulfilling, meaningful lives rather than being handed a death sentence when receiving a diagnosis. This film contains perspectives and opinions that are mercifully seen as mostly remnants of the past, with those who still hold these bigoted beliefs being in the minority, and essentially battling against science from a contemporary perspective. Yet, there is so much more to this film than just this limited perspective, and we soon come to learn that Parting Glances is as focused on exploring the lives of people dealing with this disease as it is the experiences of a couple trying to make their life together, attempting to fit into a society that is still not quite at the level of acceptance that they would hope would surround them, even at a period seemingly as progressive and forward-thinking at the late 1980s, which we now know contained some of the most regressive and bigoted political and cultural views. Parting Glances is a vitally important film, not only for its forthright, unfurnished attempts to address the growing fears regarding this disease, but also for its heartfelt, sometimes quite funny, approach to looking at queerness, viewing it as something that didn’t need to be hidden, but rather should be celebrated, since the love between these two men at the heart of the film could rival those of any conventional romantic comedy, the film paying attention to developing their relationship just as much as any other theme. Poignant and heartwarming, but not without its moments of melancholy, Sherwood’s work is impeccable, and proves to be one of the most earnest portrayals of queer issues of this era.