Of an Age

The sexual awakening in the Australian film Of an Age, set in Melbourne during the summer of 1999, is a familiar coming-of-age narrative in LGBTQ cinema. Kol (Anton), a callow, 18-year-old Serbian immigrant with seemingly little self-awareness, doesn’t wear his sexuality on his sleeve, though his ballroom dancing getup (a rhinestoned black jumpsuit with a plunging décolletage) hints at a possible queer identity. At the outset of the film’s first half, he is near-hysterical because Ebony (Hook), his dance partner in the senior-year finals, has called on the morning of their scheduled exam performance from a payphone near the beach where she just woke up after a night of hard partying, her exact location a mystery.

Lacking the transportation to fetch his hot-mess classmate, Kol ends up relying on Ebony’s slightly older brother Adam (Green) for help. In town for 24 hours before leaving for doctoral school, the super cool Adam is as polished as Kol is unpolished, with a sexy smile and an assured manner that’s never predatory, but damn alluring. The two hit it off during their long, intimate ride in Adam’s not-so-sexy station wagon, their conversation at times flirty and teasing. But when the older man mentions his ex, Kol automatically assumes a former girlfriend, until Adam finally (but gently) corrects him. (For the initiated, the clues are there.) The tone shifts immediately as Kol reacts to this unexpected revelation with a mixture of panic and thrill. This first half of the film predictably ends in the way-back section of the Holden Kingswood before the exchange of teary goodbyes come morning. On its own, it’s a nicely drawn vignette, tapping a palpable sense of desire between the two leads.

Fast-forward 10 years to the Melbourne airport where the two men bump into each other, both in town to attend the dependably narcissistic Ebony’s wedding. (Her annoyingly one-dimensional character seems to exist solely as a device to bring the principals together.) Adam hasn’t changed much, but (wow!) Kol’s transformation over the interceding decade is remarkable. The diamond-in-the rough of the film’s first half now gleams, the facial acne gone and an air of confidence complementing his GQ appearance, at least on the surface of things.

What becomes more puzzling in director/screenwriter Stolevski’s increasingly less articulate script is Adam’s motivation in all of this, particularly given his relatively greater experience with the pain and glory of personal relationships. It’s understandable what the brief encounter years ago might have meant to Kol, but the movie’s presentation of Adam’s sadness as on par with the younger man’s longing and regret simply doesn’t sell. Not to belittle Adam’s genuine sensitivity (or Green's subtly charismatic performance), but Of an Age is Kol’s story rather than a love story, with Adam playing an important albeit supporting role in it. That said, missed opportunity and bad timing inform the romantic interlude in Of an Age in a way many of us have experienced at least once. To paraphrase a metaphor fashioned by American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, we are but ships that pass in the night, exchanging a look or a voice, followed by darkness and silence. Geez, that sure sounds depressing.