Writer/director Elegance Bratton's "The Inspection," an extraordinary, must-see drama about Ellis French (Jeremy Pope), a homeless young gay Black man who enlists in the Marines, is as brutal as boot camp. The film, set in 2005, is inspired by Bratton's own experiences. Like Bratton, French has been kicked out of his house by his homophobic mother Inez (Gabrielle Union, who co-produced) and has been living on the streets since he was a teen. (Bratton's previous film was the excellent 2019 documentary feature, "Pier Kids" about three queer homeless youths in New York).
"I am attempting not to be judgmental of the Marine Corps, but to some degree, what is happening in boot camp is brainwashing."
Boot camp certainly challenges French, who reacts to being dehumanized by trying to bond with the other men in his squad. While the drill sergeant, Laws (Bokeem Woodbine) is hard as nails, the drill hat, Rosales (Raúl Castillo), is kinder, quietly helping Ellis get through some of the tougher situations he faces. That French is attracted to Rosales and has fantasies about him complicates things and sometimes gets him into trouble with his fellow recruits, especially Harvey (McCaul Lombardi), the squad leader.
"The Inspection" features some difficult scenes of violence and discrimination — the Middle Eastern recruit, Ismail (Eman Esfandi), feels as unwanted as French does at times — but there are some very tender moments, and some powerful scenes involving Ellis earning others' respect.
Bratton spoke with Salon about his bracing new film and what he learned revisiting this chapter in his life.
As you did in "Pier Kids," you transport audiences into the skin of oppression and present a story in a matter-of-fact, non-judgmental way. Although "The Inspection" is highly realistic, it also contains flights of fantasy, homoerotic scenes of French dreaming about Rosales moments or scenes that have a surrealistic quality. What informed your film's tone? The routine and episodes of dehumanization are often hypnotic.
The sense of repetition is really important for the sense of the hypnotic. I am attempting not to be judgmental of the Marine Corps, but to some degree, what is happening in boot camp is brainwashing. The idea of the chant and monotony and the prayer is a part of how the dogma is able to transfer. On a larger level, I see French is looking for a new religion. Part of that is masculinity and faith. From a score perspective, we are using a lot of chants and call and response to spread out the notion of shaping of the minds of these recruits.
In terms of the visual style, Don't Ask Don't Tell comes around in the 1990s, but queer servicemen were forced to serve in silence for almost 80 years cumulatively. My cinematographer and I were very interested in creating a visual language to address this. When we are in French's point of view, it is very much a European art film, like [Claire Denis'] "Beau Travail." When we see French in the world, the camera is on sticks and it's much more "An Officer and a Gentleman," "Full Metal Jacket," a military action film. What I am trying to say is the queer troop has stood on shaky ground the entire time they have been in the military. With that, there is the philosophy of the container within which French arrives. He is taken on a journey and dropped off as a Marine. I wanted to do that to the audience with this film. Through my editor, we were able to talk out and create the rhythm and tone.
It's also funny. As a gay guy, I was chuckling because I've been in a lot of all-male spaces, gay bars, bathhouses. I was amused by how much overlap there was by this supposedly homosocial, sacred, straight male space and the gay space. What I found poignant, is that neither space is interested in addressing intimacy. That repetitive capsule they are in — boot camp is like prison, summer camp and a fraternity. What does that mean for male intimacy, and have a queer person at the center of that question?
You focus significant time on the routines and drills the recruits endure. What decision did you make about what and how much to show regarding boot camp?
The transformation of French is a physical transformation that leads to an emotional transformation, and I find that concept to be compelling and exciting. Movies are often the opposite, showing the inner life of the character that is driving the arc and not the external forces. When we think about his intersectionality and his identity as a Black queer man, that is really what it is. He is beset with external forces.
When I was a young teenager leaving my mom's house, trying to find a place in the world, I was met mostly with rejection and ostracism. To be honest, I got my ass kicked quite a bit. The process of becoming physically stronger was also part of the process of me becoming mentally stronger. The certainty that I could defend myself for once, and not be knocked around so much really gave me a certain level of relief from anxiety I was dealing with in addition to that, it is about the machination of man, and transferring a human being into a function of a systems and that transference comes through drilling.
Lastly, the idea of the inspection, the accuracy of each movement is a part of the impossible task of becoming a perfect Marine, and therefore, a perfect man, a real man. I hope people notice how these men start out of sync and by the end they are moving and thinking as one. It's meant to be problematic. French is becoming a machine, and that's acceptance. Is that progress?
Why is Rosales kind to French? There is a wink or these brief moments where they touch each other are suggestive, but you tease out the ambiguity.
"I was amused by how much overlap there was by this supposedly homosocial, sacred, straight male space and the gay space . . . Neither space is interested in addressing intimacy."
In terms of this idea of the exploration of intimacy amongst men – French, like myself, when I came into the Marine Corps, I came in with a very transactional understanding of what love is, and what care is, what friendship is — that a man would not be interested in caring for me unless they were sexually interested in me. And French has this problem as well. One of the things he must understand is the line between admiration and attraction. This is his tragic flaw. Rosales complicates this flaw. Rosales is discovering that he is a nurturer. As an immigrant, he is an outsider too. He is an alien in a strange land, just like French is as an out queer Black person in a Don't Ask Don't Tell Marine Corps. He sees this otherness as a bond. Neither of these men have a society that has created a possibility where becoming man including these traits.
Likewise, French develops a kinship with Ismail, and there are scenes of other recruits being supportive when there are injustices. What observations do you have about how these men bond and the camaraderie they share despite their difference?
The military is one of the most progressive institutions in the history of the United States. It was the first place Black and white could serve without segregation. First place women and men get paid same for the same job. Right now, boot camp is inter-gendered, and trans and gay. It's not perfect, but it is duty-bound to best uphold the ideals of society even if it mistreats people.
"My mother is the person who first loved me completely and first rejected me holistically."
That being said, I am very much of the mindset that collaboration amongst people of color is not only required to save the planet but also integral to the rights that we've won. Black and brown collaboration has always been a part of the civil rights movement in this country, and I wanted to subtly make that a visual statement. You have a Mexican American sergeant, a Middle East recruit and this Black gay man, and they form a block of positivity and together they slowly turn the evil machine around. Dynamic relationships between individuals change institutions from the ground up. I don't believe in top-down change. I had so many mentors in the Latin community when I was a Marine and so many Middle Eastern friends who got abused during 9/11 and the war on terror. Me noticing that made us friends and I wanted to honor those relationship by telling that aspect of the story.
The relationship between French and his mother Inez is very potent. It's appropriate that neither of them changes their attitudes, but they do have a kind of love and understanding. There are only a few scenes between them yet they may be the most powerful in the film. Can you talk about creating their relationship?
First, the autobiographical film is not simply about the recollection of what happened, but it is really about the essential emotional truth. In my life from the time I was 16 until the day my mother passed, we saw each other in person only a few times — maybe 10 or 15. It wasn't a lot. In a way, she had already became a ghost to me. And growing up abused, whatever type it is — verbal, physical — you often repeat the things that have been said to you and they can hold you back from doing great things.
My mother is the person who first loved me completely and first rejected me holistically. She was complicated and I wanted to honor that complication. I also thought that would be more powerful. I was just at a film festival with Jacqueline Bisset, who said, "Movies are supposed to be mirrors." I think she heard that from Truffaut. The Inez character is a mirror for a homophobic world. Things have gotten better but there are people with HIV who can't serve in military. I wanted the power of her to be a mirror.
To be a Marine is to know thy self and seek self-importance. Given that this film is inspired by your own experiences, what did you learn looking back on this time in your life and how you processed it then and now, developing it into a narrative?
"With a name like Elegance, people assume you are gay even before you come into the room — and they were right."
It's tough because I grew up watching my mom work through pain, or around pain. I came of age knowing how to compartmentalize the things that I've been through to get to where I need to go. There's a part of me that is very much removed from this. I have been dealing with this since I was 16 and I have gratitude for the art of filmmaking even when it is exploring my personal pain. When we were on set, filming the scenes between Inez and French, everything she said to him, my mother said to me. Directing that, I had to think what did I feel 20-30 years ago, and what did she mean by it or what does French think she means by it? I was a complete emotional mess. I was crying, screaming, and gnashing my teeth. At the end of the workday, the scene that was so traumatic becomes so triumphant at night. I'm not that teen anymore. I'm not that person who can be crushed by it, I'm actually empowered making the film, and that's what I want people to get out of the film. Anyone who has been abandoned, or disregarded, or put down, hopefully they watch this film and are reminded that they are important, they matter, they are enough. It affects me. But I'm figuring it out. Life is pain and joy simultaneously.
What thoughts do you have about French's discipline and fortitude to survive?
I think that for me, it was a real surprise that I was able to hack it at boot camp. I had drafts where he was not able to keep up. When I went to boot camp, I was one of the fastest ones. I was shocked by how strong I was. And with a name like Elegance, people assume you are gay even before you come into the room — and they were right. I was often excluded from things boys did where they got to understand their physical prowess. There is an elation to know I can hack it in this world. I'm not disposable. I have what it takes to be a success, I have just never been in the situation where I was trusted to rise to the level to be successful.
The other thing is that French comes from the streets. Radical and defiant empathy is his superpower. It is how he forms alliances, and community and finds a chosen family. Being homeless gave me the skill to connect with people for what I need when I need it. That ability at one point got me a couch to crash on and at another point, it got me into film school. It has helped me direct a movie. Radical and defiant empathy is a heroic trait, and I wanted Ellis French to be an example to people and dismantle this toxic notion that for men, forgiveness is a sign of weakness. French doesn't judge people or give up on people, and that's what makes him strong. The patriarchal worlds need to see that. I hope people see that and appreciate that and inspired by that and bring more of that type of masculinity into the world.
"The Inspection" opens Nov. 18 in New York and Los Angeles, and expands nationwide on Dec. 2.
