Nobody knows nearly as much about sexual orientation as they think they do, myself included. {As you can see, boys and girls, my plan today is to open with a sweeping generalization and then try to defend it!) Straights don't understand gays, gays don't understand straights, men don't understand women, gay men don't understand lesbians, etc., etc. Bisexuals, you might argue, understand both straight and gay orientations but it's not really so. Bisexuals don't understand what it means to be unisexual – to have something of an antipathy toward the other orientation, whichever that might be. If some straight people are homophobic, doesn't it also follow that some gays are heterophobic?

I'm not much of a believer in the gay/straight dichotomy. Then again, I could be mistaken. Maybe a bipartite categorization of people in relation to sexual preference accurately describes such a large percentage of individuals that my more complex view is just a superfluous exercise in creative abstraction. Actually, even the standard nomenclature is a quadripartite structure: lesbians, straight women, gay men, and straight men. That method of defining sexuality is basically a two by two array, with two values for gender and two for partner preference. My personal view is that there's at least a third factor (maybe more) – a continuum that I'd label either dominant/deferent or active/passive. There are individuals within each of the four standard categories who prefer to be either dominant/active or deferent/passive. We have some terms in our language that recognize the third issue. Straight men, for example, range from macho to mousy. Some lesbians are said to be "butch" but others are stereotypically feminine. Adding a third factor creates a two times two times two array with eight categories total, but that doesn't take into account that two of the three variables often have intermediate values. Even gender has intermediate possibilities (e.g., androgynous or transgendered individuals), though it's statistically uncommon. Bisexuality represents an intermediate setting for the preference variable and many people enjoy being both active/dominant and passive/deferent at different moments in a relationship.

The advantage, I believe, of recognizing that sexuality is more complicated than just two genders and two orientations is that it helps to break down some of the "them vs. us" mentality that informs so much of current political debates. The "them vs. us" mentality leads directly to "you're either for us or you're against us," which I personally find especially troublesome. My approach to thought demands that I view each issue on its own merits rather than automatically adopting the view of an issue held by a particular demographic group. As a humanist, I can't routinely support one interest group in preference to another. I happen to side with the majority of gay people on a wide range of political issues, not because those positions are in the interests of gay people but because those positions are usually sounder and more evidently on the side of tolerance and mutual respect, which are ideals that I cherish. There are perhaps one-and-a-half issues where I disagree with the perspective of gay political action groups. I've sometimes been accused of being "anti-gay" on the basis of those points of disagreement, because of the "you're either for us or you're against us" mode of thinking. Similarly, I support most so-called feminist issues, but could be accused of being "anti-women" in relation to a few issues where I have a contrary perspective.

The film Bedrooms and Hallways is enormously enjoyable for me partly because it blurs and explores the boundaries that define sexual orientation. It is also one of the funniest films I've ever seen. Here's a film in which a number of characters are not too terribly sure what their orientation is or whether it's the same today as it was yesterday. We've got gays and straights, straights discovering or experimenting with homosexual inclinations, and gays discovering or experimenting with heterosexual proclivities. We've got a heterosexual couple consisting of a man and a woman who are both very much into gender politics and pop psychology. I find it all both refreshing and healthy.

Some might disagree. Some aspects of our understanding of sexual orientation are widely felt to have "political implications." It's always unfortunate when matters that should belong to the social sciences are thought to have political implications because then the science gets distorted. There's the question, for example, of how much sexual orientation is determined genetically and how much learned. Is a person born gay (or straight) or do they acquire their orientation based on influences during childhood? My best judgment, having studied the issue as a neuroscientist, is that the answer is, "yes." Yes, to both alternatives. Sexual orientation derives from a mix of biological and social influences, but the relative importance of the two factors varies from one person to another. For some people, biological predisposition is so strong (one way or the other) that social influences play no role. Some other people are biologically indefinite in their orientation and, for those people, socialization, experimentation, and curiosity contribute in significant ways. Political and religious conservatives want to deny the biological aspect in the hope that their anti-gay agenda won't seem so fully rooted in intolerance. Gay advocacy groups tend to want to deny the learned element as a countermeasure. In my opinion, it should be irrelevant, politically, how much of sexual orientation is biological and how much learned. Whatever the underpinnings of sexual orientation, our attitudes (and laws) in relation to it should be founded on tolerance for differences, within the confines of that which does no tangible harm to others.

The wide range of responses to the present film, among both gays and heterosexuals, is telling. Some heterosexuals just find it all too perverse. Gays who reject the film have a bit more complicated reasons for doing so. There is some gay stereotyping, especially with respect to the character Darren. Then, some gays feel that the film's ending amounts to the character Leo being pushed "back into the closet." It's an understandable reaction for those who are unambiguously gay but who have experienced friends and relatives pressuring them to somehow try to play the heterosexual form of the game of life. The whole closet metaphor, however, is built on the assumption of just two states of sexual orientation: in the closet or out. I don't personally read the ending of the film as implying that Leo abandons his gay identity and joins the heterosexual ranks. I read it as Leo being about 98% gay and 2% straight and Sally being that one special case because she had been his high school sweetheart. I'm not convinced that Leo even qualifies as bisexual. To me, the term bisexual doesn't really apply to a person who is almost exclusively heterosexual or gay, but who once or a few times in their life experiments with the other alternative. Bisexual ought, in my opinion to suggest some degree of regularity on both sides of the plate.

Historical Background: Rose Troche was born into a large family of Puerto Rican descent and grew up in the Midwest. Her debut feature film, Go Fish, was a controversial film about lesbian life, set in the Wicker Park neighborhood of Chicago. She co-wrote the script with actress Guinevere Turner, who then also starred in the film. Bedrooms and Hallways (1998), set in London, was her second film. Since then, she has directed The Safety of Objects (2001), starring Glenn Close and Dermot Mulroney. She directed an episode of Six Feet Under for HBO and an episode of Touching Evil as well. Her most recent work is a TV series called The L Word, about the lesbian community in Los Angeles.

The Story: As the film opens, Leo (Kevin McKidd), an attractive, strawberry-blond gay man, is having to cope with the fact that he's turning thirty. He hopes for a long-term, romantic attachment with a gay partner, but has so far had no luck in that regard. At least he has a couple of adorable roommates. One is Darren (Tom Hollander), a gayer-than-gay kind of guy. Darren and Leo have a close, platonic relationship, but are not lovers. Darren is more into recreational sex – and the kinkier the better. Then, there's Angie (Julie Graham). She's a sexy, heterosexual woman. Her womanly charms may be wasted on her two gay roommates, but all three are best of friends and like nothing more than sitting around together doing their hair and watching gay porn flics. Angie likes her roommates just as they are. She says to Leo, at one point, "You're like my spy in the enemy camp."

Leo is on his way home, glad that he'll be spending a quiet evening alone, convinced that his roommates have understood that he does not want a big shindig. Guess again, Leo! Darren has organized a massive party, inviting all of the acquaintances that they've made during the last year. After weaving his way through the crowd, Leo sullenly slinks off into his bedroom. In a flashback, we learn how the various guests came to be part of Leo's circle.

First, there's Adam (Christopher Fulford), with whom Leo works, making furniture. They're close friends. Even though Adam is straight and Leo is gay, the two have more in common than not. Both are lonely and looking. They'd go out carousing together except they'd end up in different bars. Adam urges Leo to join his men's group, which is presently composed entirely of heterosexual men. Leo complains that he'd have nothing in common with the others and worries that he'd get a "winky" when the group was in the sauna. Adam persists, saying, "It's an incredible time to be a guy. We have to get ready for the new century and find out who we are." Leo finally agrees to give it a go.

Darren, meanwhile, has met a new guy. He's sultry, rugged, and 6' tall, just the way the petite Darren likes 'em. Darren's new love toy is Jeremy (Hugo Weaving), a real estate agent, dressed deceptively in a pin-stripped suit. Beneath the surface, Jeremy is a seething cauldron of sexual energy and kinky peccadilloes. Jeremy likes nothing more than a sexual tryst in the vacated houses of his clients. He's got the keys, so access is no problem. Jeremy and Darren end up getting it on in a variety of strange hallways, vinyl-lined bedrooms, kitchens, and swimming pools.

The new-age men's group is run by an eclectic psychobabble-spouting guru named Keith (Simon Callow). He's married to an equally eccentric feminist and women's group leader, Sybil (Harriet Walker). They battle over use of the various rooms and therapeutic props in their home for their respective groups. When Sybil's group is relegated to the smaller meeting room one evening, she complains, "I suppose you guys need all that space for your gigantic penises!"

During his first session in the men's group, Leo watches as Keith passes around the "honesty stone." A nervous, little wreck of a man named John (Paul Higgins) takes it, but is unable to speak. Finally, he is barely able to whisper, "I feel there's a blockage in my neck." "It's just your ego," replies Keith, "trying to protect itself." After a few minutes of writhing about, John blurts out that his father beat him.

When Leo is handed the stone, he confesses that he finds one of the members of the group attractive. That one is Brendan (James Purefoy), a dark, handsome Irishman. The other men, who are unaware that Leo is gay, want to know if he means "in a spiritual sense." It's an awkward few moments as Leo explains that he means sexually. John is actually more blown away by the revelation than is Brendan, who finds the observation somewhat flattering.

Later that night, back home, Leo dreams about Brendan. They're lying together on a tropical beach, sharing a drink from a pineapple-shaped container. When Leo awakens with a start, he reaches for the most asexual book he can find: a tome about Margaret Thatcher. The next day, Adam and Leo stop by Brendan's sandwich shop during lunch. Adam points out that Brendan gave Leo a whole extra row of gherkins in his sandwich! Perhaps Brendan is taking a shine to him after all. Sure enough, Brendan calls that evening to ask Leo if he'd like to go to a bar for drinks.

The next night, the men's group starts out in the sauna. This is difficult for Leo, who finds the sight of Brendan, in the flesh, all too arousing. That night, he asks Angie's advice on some bedtime reading that might help suppress his overwrought libido. She says, "There's a book on my bedside table. Read it and you'll never think about sex again." The book turns out to be "The Complete Jane Austen." That night, Leo's dreams are populated by an assortment of Austen characters, drawn from both Emma and Pride and Prejudice, in the kinkiest transposition that you'll ever care to see. Brendan, decked out in leather from head to foot, is a sadistic Mr. Darcy, ordering a servant (Leo) to meet him in the stables for his whipping.

The men's group schedules a night in the forest, where they will recreate the historic role of men as hunter/gatherers. The group proves delightfully inept. Terry (Con O'Neill), a macho tough guy who has discovered his gayness as a result of Leo's influence, whimpers when he gets caught in some brambles. The men are able to gather so little that's edible that Keith ends up having to call for Chinese takeout, including six Peking ducks. The men are then able to celebrate with a war dance and beating of the tom-toms, around the campfire.

One of the men in the group challenges Leo by asking him if he's ever had sex with a woman. He hasn't, but the question sets him to wondering. He goes to Angie for advice. She reassures him, "You're quite right to choose men. Women are complicated. Men are kind of pathetic, but at least you know where you are." To further make her point, Angie, wearing just her bra and underwear, hops on Leo, who has to acknowledge that it doesn't excite him.

Any doubts that Leo might have been having are washed away when Brendan suddenly appears at his door, ready for hot sex. The two go at it under the strobe lights. The next morning, Brendan makes breakfast for both Leo and Darren. Leo still frets because Brendan, it seems, is on the rebound from a seven-year heterosexual relationship. Leo reminds Darren, "You know what my biggest nightmare is – falling in love with a straight guy." "Why do I have to have such a complicated sex life?" he wonders. "It's because you send out complicated vibrations," suggests Darren helpfully. "Simplify your vibrations and your sex life will simplify itself."

The woman with whom Brendan has recently broken up, Sally (Jennifer Ehle), turns out to also be Leo's one and only ex-sweetheart, from his teen years, before he had come to grips with his sexual orientation. In fact, his realization that he was gay had more or less ended their romance. Sally shows up at the apartment where Leo, Angie, and Darren live, planning to confront Angie, who she believes to be having an affair with Brendan. Angie is out, however, and Sally discovers instead her old teenage boyfriend, Leo. Darren is seated nearby and the following delicious conversation ensues.

Sally: I came about that woman, Angie. She's seeing my boyfriend.
Leo: Angie?
Sally: No, it's o.k., Leo. I'm dealing with it.
Darren: Shove over! Let's get to the bottom of this. We know her type. So, describe your boyfriend to us and we'll tell you if she's bonkin' him.
Leo: Darren!
Darren: I'm trying to help. Is he tall or short?
Sally: Tall.
Darren: Dark or blond?
Sally: Dark.
Darren: English or foreign?
Sally: Irish.
Darren: Oooh, sounds a bit ominous. She likes a bit of an accent, our Ang.
Leo: Still doesn't sound like her.
Darren: Here's a decider. Is he smooth or hairy?
Sally: Pretty hairy!
Darren: Ah, definitely not!
Leo: No!

Once Sally reveals her ex-boyfriend's name, "Brendan," both Leo and Darren realize that it is Leo who is Sally's competition, not Angie. Darren makes up a cock-and-bull story to cover for his roommate. After this interrogation, Sally and Leo start spending some time together. There're some humorous moments when they joke about the same high school boy being the first for each of them. They walk out of a bar, and Leo, referring to a man they just passed, declares, "He fancied you." Sally retorts, "No, he fancied you." Back at Sally's apartment, the two find their old affection for one another rekindled. Sally asks, "Are you flirting with me?" Leo replies, earnestly, "I don't know." Sally says, wistfully, "I wish you had been my first time with a man." Leo replies, "I wish you had been my first time with a man."

In one of the film's best scenes, Jeremy takes Darren to another vacant house, or so they believe. This time, Jeremy is pulling out all the stops. He handcuffs Darren, wearing just his Calvin Klein underwear, to one of the beds. Then Jeremy cuts away the briefs with his pocketknife. Then he adds a blindfold. Darren pleads, "I do hope you're going to be gentle with me. You now how huge you are." Suddenly, they hear a noise downstairs. Someone has entered the house. Jeremy quickly exits, saying to Darren, "Wait here!" Given that he's handcuffed to the bed, that parting suggestion is a bit superfluous. Moments later, Sally walks into the bedroom, demanding, "Who the hell are you?" The blindfolded and stark naked Darren has no idea who he's talking to, but resourcefully begins to sing, "Happy birthday, Geraldine." "My name's not Geraldine and it's not my birthday," says Sally, pointedly. Once the blindfold is removed, Darren is doubly mortified. "This was not my idea. I'm dealing with a sex maniac. It could have happened to any of us!" I know exactly what he means. Why just the other day, I was handcuffed stark naked to a bed in a stranger's house and . . .

Once he's released from his predicament, Darren has to face up to confessing his indiscretion to Leo. Darren begs Angie to go with him to Leo's workplace, fearing Leo's reaction. That proves unnecessary, but it results in Angie meeting Adam, and they immediately hit it off. Instead of getting angry at Darren, Leo takes Darren's confession as reason enough to unravel his own complicated life. He heads over to the sandwich shop, where both Brendan and Sally work, to confess to Sally that he was the one having an affair with Brendan. "The reason I didn't sleep with you," he tells her, "is because I was having an affair with Brendan." Sally had already figured it out, but appreciates Leo's honesty.

The long flashback ends back at Leo's thirtieth birthday party. The stars overhead have begun to align themselves in the sky. Angie and Adam, Keith and Sybil, and (after a fistfight) Brendan and Terry, all head off for fun and games. A contrite Jeremy even comes around with a bouquet of flowers. Darren makes him agree to more trips to art galleries and lunches in Soho, but then forgives him. That leaves just Leo and Sally and a chance for Leo to explore the other, lesser side of his complex sexuality. "There must be something I can do that women love," he opines.

Themes: The film's principal theme is the one I led with in this review: the complex and fluid nature of sexual orientation. Fluid for some people, that is. To acknowledge as much is not to argue that every gay person could just as well be straight. Certainly, that kind of assertion would be no truer than a contention that every straight person could just as well be gay. For some people, partner preference is absolute. Some others are fully bisexual. Still others have a strong but less than absolute preference. Leo fits the last category. All of us (gay, straight, or otherwise) need to get over the need to pigeonhole people in a small number of cubbyholes. People should be encouraged to experiment (within the confines of doing no harm to others), without necessarily having to declare allegiance to one camp or another. If a straight person discovers a bit of repressed homosexual interest or a gay person a bit of tentative heterosexual interest, so much the better. This film is about people learning to accept themselves as they are, in all of their facets.

Production Values: The script for this farce and sex-romp was written by Robert Farrar. It's got a Noël Coward kind of witty sophistication, but with class distinctions replaced by varieties of sexual orientation. The characters are vividly drawn and delightful and the dialog utterly sparkling. There's satire and parody, especially in relation to the activities of the men's group. On the other hand, the assorted sexual preferences are treated sympathetically, even the kinky activities of Darren and Jeremy. The party scene is skillfully shot, with the camera gliding gracefully from one snippet of conversation to another. The editing is quick and crisp.

The surreal dream sequences are especially delightful. There's a bit of a cinematic joke at work in the Jane Austen reference. Three of the actors in this film appeared in Jane Austin adaptations: Jennifer Ehle in Pride and Prejudice, James Purefoy in Mansfield Park, and Harriet Walter in Sense and Sensibility.

The highlight of the film is the outstanding set of performances. Tom Hollander, as Darren, pretty much steals the show. He's the most stereotypically gay character and some viewers may be offended by his performance, but it stuck me as far more likely to elicit an affectionate and empathetic response from viewers than a disdainful one. Hollander's comedic timing is superb. He previously appeared in Martha Meet Frank, Daniel and Lawrence. Kevin McKidd provided a believably confused and sympathetic protagonist. His previous work included Trainspotting. Jennifer Ehle was the reason I originally acquired this film. She is excellent, though her character mainly comes into play only in the second half of the film. She appeared in Wilde, as well as the already mentioned Pride and Prejudice. James Purefoy made a handsome love interest and Simon Callow was very, very good as the men's group guru. His resume includes Amadeus (1984), A Room with a View (1985), Maurice (1987), Postcards from the Edge (1990), Four Weddings and a Funeral (1994), Shakespeare in Love (1998), and No Man’s Land (2001). Hugo Weaving was outstanding as Jeremy. He has appeared in The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert (1994), Babe (1995), and the entire Matrix series (1999-2003).

Bottom-Line: Most films that include prominent gay characters fall into one of two categories. If the film is intended for a mass audience, the gay characters are usually given shallow treatment and stereotypical characteristics. If the film is intended for the gay market, the subject matter will be homo-centric and dominated by gay-positive themes. Neither of those kinds of films have much potential for contributing to the education of the general public toward a more gracious acceptance of individual differences. Bedrooms and Hallways won't satisfy the most intransigent individuals on either side of the sexual orientation divide, but has an unusual potential to reach a large audience with a positive message about tolerance for the complexity of human sexuality. Those who are not offended by this film typically find it to be an exceptionally entertaining comedy. I highly recommend it. Bedrooms and Hallways has a running time of 96 minutes.

Recommended:
Yes

Video Occasion: Fit for Friday Evening
Suitability For Children: Not suitable for Children of any age