Starring: Craig Pinkston, Jon Sherrin, Erin Leigh Price
Stylish and artful, this film by Jorge Ameer (The House of Adam, The Dark Side of Love, Contadora is for Lovers, Straight Men & the men who love them 1 & 2) pulls its viewers into a free associative ride that incorporates two separate eras, or at least three, separate points of view and references that move fluidly between people we think we are and the people we might have been in earlier lifetimes. Symbolism cheerfully weaves its way throughout this narrative in ways that touch on wildly free associative archetypes. Duets evolve into trios, trios devolve into duets, and we are warned, that human memories are so subjective that truth is, by definition, variable and intensely personal. The Singing Forest opens with some of the most daring segues in the history of film-making. Tender scenes of gay male on male affection during the Weimar Republic alternate with views from emaciated corpses in the death camps at Auschwitz. Time streams forward, backwards and sideways. Some scenes evoke a Dada-is-tic revival of Alfred Hitchcock. Nazi storm troopers roaring down a staircase, dragging the almost emaciated corpse off to be tortured. These alternate with images of modern day healthy bodies that are bound and bleeding, a forecast of emaciated deaths to come. From there, the plot spins and then thickens around the dynamic of a modern day southern California family which, while hipper and more evolved than most, is ill equipped for the conflicting loyalties that evolve when resurrected soul-mates are reunited. During the course of this film, tow swift-flowing streams of consciousness run constantly sometimes in different directions. Good-looking actors deftly switch in and out of realities in patterns that are sometimes synchronized and sometimes not. Like bodies swimming up from great watery depths, the two (extremely good looking) protagonist rediscover the love that bound them together during their tragically truncated earlier lives.