Euronews Culture’s Film of the Week: ‘Club Kid’

Brooklyn, 2016. Peter (Jordan Firstman) and his merry partygoing mates are off to the club with only two questions on their minds.

“What is the year’s best album?”

The answer seems to be a toss-up between Beyoncé’s ‘Lemonade’ and Frank Ocean’s ‘Blonde’. (Even if we all know that Danny Brown’s ‘Atrocity Exhibition’ is the clear winner, but that’s by the by.)

The answer is, empathically, drugs. And they want them now.

The club they’re heading to won’t be Peter’s only stop of the night. He’s the life of the party on New York’s gay club scene, as he’s launching events with his friend and business partner Sophie (Cara Delevigne). His task as a club promoter is to make sure everyone has a good time – which means overseeing that the drugs are freeflowing. If he happens to indulge along the way, even better.

Despite having “never touched a vagina in (his) life”, he ends up having an LSD-fanned threesome, which includes Leonora (Paris Petitjean), a British “innit, babes?” tourist.

There goes that gay gold star.

“A decade-ish later,” Peter is still hitting the clubs. He’s older but not wiser. He’s still selling drugs and can’t seem to go out without getting fucked up. He’s also dealing with both an increasingly pissed off Sophie and Nicky (Eldar Isgandarov), a neurotic twink from Azerbaijan who is an “aspiring queer philosopher” with a marked aversion to paying rent.

On the same day that Sophie fires Peter for being “literally a fucking child” comes a knock at the door. It’s Edison (Kirby Howell-Baptiste), another “innit, babes?”. And she’s not alone. The fast-talking Brit has come to New York with Arlo (Reggie Absolom), Peter’s 9-year-old biological son from that 10-year-old drug-fuelled dalliance.

They came over from London because Edison’s friend Leonora died by suicide and Arlo’s stepfather is a bad egg. Edison has the birth certificate to prove the paternity, needs a quick coke hit to calm her jitters, totally gets it if Peter doesn’t want to be a dad, and she’ll totes take Arlo back to the UK, but first she has to run a few errands and she’ll be right back to pick up the tyke, promise babes.

Spoiler: She’s off for good and heads back to London before you can say “fuck this comedown”.

Whether he’s ready for it or not, it’s growing up time for Peter.

Firstman’s feature debut finds him not only on triple duty – scriptwriting, directing and acting – but telling a familiar story of stunted adulthood and accidental parenthood.

From Chaplin’s The Kid to Mike Mills’ C’mon C’monrapper, the story of a manchild meeting his child and dealing with newfound father figure status is hardly new. However, what Club Kid lacks in storytelling originality it makes up for in intoxicating mood and a heartfelt devotion to its characters

Firstman may be sticking to the established coming-of-age formula but he has a clear appreciation for the city and nightlife he is depicting, as well as an evident understanding and empathy for the New York queer community. He makes the scene feel simultaneously vibrant and believably bittersweet, envelopping the viewer in a world that has many facettes. This is felt the most when it’s clear the party’s over for Peter, even if he can’t quite bring himself to realise the lights have gone up. The euphoria feels genuine, as does the inevitable comedown from the casual sex and ketamine bumps on the dancefloor. To Club Kid ‘s great strength, you can feel the draw emanating from the hedonistic party lifestyle in the same way you sense how the exhilaration is only a temporary release from daily troubles and deep-seated vulnerabilities.

As Peter tells Arlo in an affecting moment: “I basically don’t have any self-esteem.”

Central to the film’s many charms is the blooming bond between Peter and Arlo. Firstman nails the unlikely father act and shrewdly underplays the torment at the heart of letting go of a treasured part of yourself.

His efforts are rewarded by Absolom. A first-time actor, the young Brit is a revelation here and makes the double-act work wonders. Playing Arlo as a believably precarious scamp with an affinity for Cocteau Twins and DJing, Absolom manages to hint at nascent trauma hiding behind his angelic features in an impressively naturalistic way.

The pair’s excellent on screen dynamic is bolstered by Firstman’s script, which neatly balances dry humour with warmth. Whether it’s some throwaway acerbic zingers or an inappropriate “I Heart Björk And Barebacking” t-shirt, the laughs never overpower the sweetness.

Granted, Nicky’s volatile roommate shenanigans cartoonishly clash with the overall tone, and some sentimental moments are occasionally threatened by a few plot shortcuts that undermine real-world realism. Still, cheap melodrama is avoided, and the final shot does bring Club Kid to an honest end.

Sadly, it falls short of tearjerker status. Not by much, mind you, but unlike Charlotte Wells’ Aftersun, it doesn’t achieve the same level of emotional resonance at the heart of a nuanced story between a young father and his child. Maybe some predictable third act developments are to blame here; but there’s no denying that its heart is always in the right place.

All in all, this sincere tale of self-discovery and loving queer familial dynamics is a very promising debut from Firstman, who manages to convey that it’s never too late to find a new trajectory in life.

Oh, and it’s never too early to introduce those wee urchins in your life to Cocteau Twins and Björk. The definition (and pitfalls) of barebacking will have to wait.

Club Kidis out in cinemas now.