one like him

‘Moonlight’ meets ‘Run Lola Run’ in this tense, sensual drama about the impossible task of trying to control the outcome of a single moment. In a suspended encounter, humming with subtext, two men sit with the weight of twenty years of unspoken history between them. One man wants to take the leap, one man wants to get away. Three times they confront each other about love and the outcome is messy, beautiful, achingly raw and at times so vulnerable it’s like looking into the sun. ‘one like him’ is a moving, playful and daring story about telling the truth and finding the language to convey queer love, and the surprising consequences of opening up the past in order to build a new future.

These two Jordanian men and what they say to each other in the context of present day Amman is so powerful in this story that our approach was to showcase those elements as much as possible. There is a magnetic stasis to the shots that allow us to feel each twitch of a cheek or a jaw tightening. We are real and up close and personal. At the same time the film sits in a surreal, fantasy space. The elements, emotions, energies disrupt reality and make us (and Karim) question what is real and what is imagined. Overall we want an audience to think about what "closure" really means in relation to personal identity and another person.

This project is based on the memoirs of writer Tareq Baconi. Born in Jordan to Palestinian refugees, Tareq spent his adolescence between Amman and Beirut. At 17, Tareq came out to his best friend but was ostracised. Having completed his doctoral thesis, Tareq is now writing his memoirs imagined as a letter to his lost friend. The film is an adaptation of this conversation between individuals who, despite their shared childhood, have landed in different worlds – traditional Arab heteronormativity versus a queer progressive setting.

The film looks at the significance and consequences of what is spoken and unspoken. Karim has been living with the burden of what has gone unsaid, never having had the words or language to describe himself. He never had a chance to explain to his childhood friend and first love how he felt. In this conversation, Karim finally finds the courage to speak his truth. But each time he comes up against obstacles – in himself and in Ramzi - and the moment is not cathartic. Saying ‘I am gay’ in English alienates Ramzi, who finds the expression ‘undignified’. Then none of the words in Arabic feel quite right. Karim finally loses control of the moment. He lets go of the need for Ramzi to understand him. He accepts that, as limited and reductive as his language might be, at least it’s honest. And that is when something unexpected happens: Karim hears that he was accepted and loved all along. No one turned away from him. He had, in fact, turned away from himself.

We hope that audiences will think about their own lives, about conversations they might start, even if only with themselves. And for those who cannot speak out for whatever reason, this film offers a moment of sensual and daring escape: in our minds we can be free.