The AIDS crisis remains one of the most horrific times for the LGBTQ+ community, leaving an entire generation scarred with death and loss. Robin Campillo‘s 2017 film BPM (Beats per Minute) looks to give a voice and bring the individuals behind the AIDS activism of ACT UP Paris in 1990s France to life. The French government continues to tell the group that they are trying their best, but as more and more of the LGBTQ+ community dies it becomes clear that something needs to happen.
BPM (Beats per Minute) stands out as one of the examples of the suffering caused to the LGBTQ+ community during this time – focusing not just on the dying but also the living. It might not exactly stand out as shocking to see a film covering this time in history focus on the pain caused by the sheer amount of death plaguing the community, but it undoubtedly still packs a punch. Seeing loved ones have to say goodbye to each other and be powerless to their fate is heartbreaking but the film doesn’t stop there.
It includes smaller fresh perspectives, such as those in the LGBTQ+ community who are against the activism done by ACT UP Paris as it makes it impossible to escape their fear as the reminder of death is put everywhere. BPM (Beats per Minute) is not a film truly about the loss of life, it is a film more concerned with the suffering it causes for the entire community which it affects.
One of the reasons this works so successfully is because the movie keeps the spirit of the LGBTQ+ community and these characters alive. Even in such a dark time, these characters are charismatic and fun, never falling victim to becoming placeholders of life with the only memorable moments being their eventual deaths. These are living, breathing characters which makes the suffering they experience feel all the more raw and tragic.
Also at Cannes: The Ballad of Narayana (1983)
Much of this not only comes from the screenplay by Robin Campillo and Philippe Mangeot, but also the performances. Adèle Haenel, Nahuel Pérez Biscayart, and Félix Maritaud are just some examples of actors who clearly flaunted so much liberation crafting their performances, while also being conscious of the fears and stresses their characters would be under. Where they can laugh about going to jail and causing a mess, the stakes never are lost. And the idea that every day of failed action by the French government will equal death hangs over the film like a dark cloud.
The only major issue with the film is that of its pacing. BPM (Beats per Minute) is a slow film that spends plenty of its runtime meandering around with its characters building their personalities and relationships. Where this is an effective approach to getting the audience to care about these characters, it starts to feel a bit lethargic over the film’s 140-minute runtime. If the film had a better focus to keep the audience engaged throughout the entire runtime, it would come together better than it does. But as it stands feels like it could have shaved off 20-30 minutes and still accomplish everything it does.
BPM (Beats per Minute) might not always be an easy or fun watch, but stands out as one of the best representations of this horrific time in LGBTQ+ history. It is painful yet honest with its characters, and isn’t afraid to bring some joy, always being able to draw the line and switch into the sadder more serious moments with grace. The film will make audiences laugh, cry, and curse in anger, which is a testament to the range and effectiveness of the film. For those who missed it on release, BPM (Beats per Minute) is absolutely worth a watch and remains a defining piece of cinema tackling LGBTQ+ history.
