Portrait of Jason, 1967
In this intimate, yet sprawling documentary, vibrant personality Jason Holliday shares his observations, recollections, and stage bits--all in the confines of an apartment living room.
This is a pretty incredible piece of cinema, and I'm not even 100% sure what I saw.
Holliday, perpetually swigging from a glass, seems like a contradiction. At once charismatic enough that he's gained access to high society (often as hired company, not an equal), and yet there is a longing and a sense of missing out.
It is this push-pull of Holliday's stories that makes him so compelling to watch. He is a keen observer, and clearly the kind of person who stands there with a smile on his face while filing away every turn of phrase or mannerism that tickles his fancy. He perfectly emulates a wealthy woman complaining about thieving maids ("You send them to the store for 6 cans, you only ever see 4!").
At the same time, many of his stories have an edge to them, and show how precarious it was for him to navigate different situations. Being gay made him "safe" to be in a mixed-race group, because the white men stopped being aggressive toward him when they realized he was not interested in the white women. And while this might seem like an amusing little anecdote, you then hear about the way that being gay devastated his relationship with his mother.
This movie, honestly, was like when you're at a party and someone who actually deserves the spotlight is holding court. Is it all an act? Some dialogue at the end suggests that what we're seeing is a mix of reality and performance, but honestly who cares?
"No one can wear these hats except for me and Mae West."