We Heard You, But What Did You Say?

Trigger warning: This review quotes some racist dialog from the film in the sixth paragraph.

Surprisingly, this title wasn’t already
taken by Treasure Island Media.

Though its title suggests it’s about turning a man’s ass into a cream horn, THE BREEDING is actually about BDSM race play (because of course that’s a thing). It’s the kind of movie that might have had quotes from critics scattered about its poster, labeling it “controversial,” noting that it “pushes the envelope” and is “thought provoking.” But despite The Breeding winning the award for best feature at the 2018 Harlem International Film Festival, few critics bothered to review it.

But The Breeding doesn’t need such validation from critics. Its very premise is controversial, and it pushes the envelope not only in its subject matter but sexual content, too, crossing into NC-17 territory more than few times. And the movie is thought provoking, but the thoughts it provokes are less likely to be about racism and the fetishizing of Black men than about how fucking pretentious it is.

The main character, Thomas (Marcus Bellamy, so sexy and so sleepy), may be an erotic cartoonist by trade, but he’s sexually frustrated in life. Though his boyfriend Amadi (David J. Cork) always seems ready for sex, even after a rough day at his TV job, Thomas is never in the mood — at least, not with Amadi. Instead, Thomas goes looking for more extreme experiences outside the relationship, leaving Amadi’s balls to get ever-bluer. When we first meet Thomas he’s in a “confessional,” detailing his erotic dreams.

You’d never guess they aren’t in a church.

Thomas drowsily shares his fantasy with the white “Father,” his dialog perfectly suited for a drinking game: “I want to do things with his body [take a shot], with our mouths. I want to kiss his body [take a shot], I want his breath on my body [take a shot]. I want to kiss his body [take a shot]. Make love to his body [take a shot], worship his body [take a shot].” And now you’re shitfaced. This dialog may be intended to have a poetic rhythm, but it just had me thinking Thomas has a really limited vocabulary. That Thomas tends to respond to all questions with a listless yea only re-enforces that opinion.

Thomas takes the first of many masturbation breaks.

When not going to tea room confessionals or turning down his boyfriend’s advances, Thomas spends his days sketching sexy scenarios featuring characters with outrageously swollen crotches and taking frequent masturbation breaks. “The thing I love, more than anything in the world,” Thomas shares in a voiceover, “is a big. Black. Dick.” But it’s the white dick of Lee (Joe MacDougal), who cruises Thomas in the men’s room during an art opening at Lee’s ex-wife’s gallery, that has piqued the horny artist’s interest.

In a text conversation the two men hash out what each other are into (“Do you sub?” Lee asks, to which Thomas responds with one of many yeas), then engage in a bit of phone sex. I knew it was a bad idea when Thomas told Lee he didn’t have any limits, thinking that that’s a good way to get roped into blood or scat play. But Lee’s kink isn’t as infectious or smelly, though I would argue it’s just as icky. “That’s what those lips are made for, suckin’ on white men,” rasps Lee. This line causes Thomas to stop mid-jerk, but only briefly. Then Lee takes things into a more Aryan Nation direction: “Yeah, that’s what that monkey mouth needs.” Understandably, Thomas hangs up.

Research.

He isn’t totally turned off, though, and, after Googling “gay black white slave sex” and “race play,” he goes to a sex party where he reconnects with Lee, the pair engaging in more conventional sex. Wanting more, Thomas goes to Lee’s apartment the following day, only to end up locked in an electrified cage with a ball gag stuffed in his mouth, held prisoner until he acknowledges Lee as his master. Getting out is suddenly more important to him than getting off. 

“You know what would make this hotter? Racism.”

Jackson is hot for BBC.

There’s a pointless subplot involving a white gay artist Jackson (cockatoo-haired Patrick Kuzara), whose work will be featured alongside Thomas’s in an upcoming show, but who also works for the gallery curating the show. Jackson is into Black men, but his interest in them doesn’t go beyond sexual objectification. In one scene he hooks up with a couple of young hustlers he met through Craigslist (how quaint). They attempt to rob him and Jackson stabs one of the men, possibly fatally. Other than being questioned by a cop about a noise complaint, however, Jackson faces no consequences.

Lacks Focus, Often Literally

Part of what makes The Breeding such frustrating viewing is it’s simultaneously heavy-handed and vague. Director Daniel Armando and writer Dane Harrington Joseph thought it was important that we see Thomas acquire a discarded birdcage, but it’s solely to provide some obvious symbolism. You can practically see the thought bubble over the actor’s head: This could be a visual metaphor. Yet the fate of the hustler Jackson stabbed (we see Jackson mopping up blood, but no body) is left to audience assumption. 

Nice package, though.

Complicating things further is Armando’s bombarding us with every technique he can think of. Split screens, jump cuts, soft focus — he uses them all, repeatedly. He is particularly fond of gelled lighting (especially red) and using a hand-held camera, so much so that half the movie feels like you’re watching it through a veil of blood while on stormy seas. It’s Carrie’s Homoerotic Poseidon Adventure. I’m not against using any of these techniques, but here they’re used in such excess they distract from, rather than enhance, the story. Buy a fucking tripod! shouldn’t be the dominant thought one has when watching a movie about race play.

Thomas is a prisoner of red gelled lighting.

Focus!

I was going to write a paragraph about how, on the bright side, The Breeding has a lot of sexy moments, praising Bellamy’s physical charms if not his somnolent performance, as well as mentioning the appeal of some of his co-stars. However, as I started to write it I wondered if that could be construed as showing the same reductive attitudes the film is condemning. Or is it? Maybe the sexy scenes were simply meant to celebrate the beauty of Black men. Or maybe it’s to drive home the conflicts between being sex positive and woke. Or maybe it’s as simple as #BlackLivesMatter.

And that’s ultimately why The Breeding fails: its creators are so preoccupied with being artsy and sexy they lose sight of their message, whatever that’s supposed to be. We’re given no insight into why Thomas is drawn to this particular brand of BDSM, other than he’s bored. Boredom might explain his wanting to play outside his relationship, and even why he’d want to experiment with BDSM, but his willingness to subject himself to Lee’s Mandingo experience was a mystery to me. If it’s meant to be viewed metaphorically, to spark a conversation about racism in the gay community in general and within interracial relationships specifically, well, that message didn’t land, either. But, hey, at least Armando got to show off all those neat lighting and camera tricks.