Archive

Recap Attack: “Go Fish”

Years before they contributed their talents to a little TV show called The L Word, writer-actress Guinevere Turner and writer-director Rose Troche gave us Go Fish, a no-budget, black and white, girl-meets-girl film about a group of young lesbian friends looking for love in Los Angeles – I mean Chicago.

There’s a slightly older black woman who is the group’s level-headed maternal figure. There’s a girl who unapologetically sleeps with anyone and everyone she pleases. There’s a girl named Max. Everyone hangs around talking about dating, love and sex so much, it feels like no one has a job. Why does this all sound strangely familiar?

Let’s meet the girls:

Max – Her real name is Camille, but everyone calls her Max, as in “to the max.” Heh. As Max, Guinevere Turner looks a far cry from the L Word role she would play 10 years later: Alice ‘s hot-yet-cold ex, Gabby Deveaux.

Kia – A college professor and the older, maternal one in the group, played by big and sturdy T. Wendy McMillan. Kia and Max are roommates.

Ely – Shy and nervous, tall and gangly and not especially attractive, she could be the unlikely object of Max’s fascination. Played generously by V.S. Brodie.

Daria – A much shorter, much plumper version of Shane, played by Anastasia Sharp. Daria is very much like the Lollipop Kid with the most hits on The Chart in all of Oz.

Evy – Kia’s girlfriend, who hast yet to come out to her mother, played by Migdalia Melendez.

Herstory – “Let’s make a list of women that you think are lesbians or that you know are lesbians,” instructs Kia. She’s holding a casual discussion group in what I guess is a women’s studies course. Wait. You can get college credits for playing a game we’ve all played over beer at least once? Damn.

Someone calls out, “Eve.” Someone else suggests, “Sappho.” The list grows until it includes everyone from Chelsea Clinton to the entire cast of Roseanne. Kia, with her coke bottle glasses and professorly authority, writes them all on the chalkboard until finally a student asks, “Why are we even making this list?”

Kia explains, “Throughout lesbian history, there has been a serious lack of evidence to tell us what these women’s lives are truly about.” Are we setting up the film, or talking about Jodie Foster?

Anyway – Now we have Max reciting a long voice-over about how she imagines she’ll meet the love of her life, while simultaneously, we’re treated to a montage of an average morning’s events.

Max says, “I have this great theory that the moment we’re supposed to meet will be thwarted …” Daria swaggers home from yet another night of fun and meaningless sex.

“… I think I saw her on the subway yesterday. I saw her and thought, ‘We were supposed to meet yesterday on the bus …'” Kia and Evy are peacefully sleeping and spooning in Kia’s bed.

“… She was supposed to spill her soda on me, and we were supposed to laugh and make a game of cleaning it up while we touch each other more than necessary …” Max is in her jammies in her bedroom, writing in her journal during her own voice-over.

“… Now our paths won’t cross until years later when she’s forgotten she’s a dyke …” Ely gets up, yawns and shuffles into the kitchen to have her morning tea.

“… Fall in love with me. We were supposed to meet so long ago. We’re way behind.” There’s a spinning wooden top and then two hands with intertwined fingers held up to a happy-clouded sky. Oh no. Pretentious, arty images. This does not bode well.

Musing and dreaming give way to daylight – Kia and Evy are late for work, so they get dressed without showering or brushing their teeth. Ew. Kia and roommate Max make plans to meet later at a joint called the Fanta Café while Evy, wearing hospital scrubs, calls her mom and lies about working a double shift, instead of admitting she spent the night spooning with another woman.

Cut to the first of many silly interstitials. We see some shoes, pages of a book turning, a pair of eyes, and some milk being added to coffee. It’s all very deep, and I’m not sure I get it. From here on out, I’ll be inserting my own interstitials. They won’t make any more sense than shoes, eyes and milk, but they might be more fun.

Scoping out babes — Later at Fanta Café, a busy establishment filled with gay-looking women, Max and Kia are sitting around drinking coffee and talking about girls. “You haven’t dipped into the honey pot in a while,” teases Kia.

“The ‘honey pot?’ God, you’re so ’70s sometimes,” says Max. Max is wearing a baggy T-shirt, even baggier, long shorts and a backwards baseball cap. She doesn’t want to be reminded that she hasn’t slept with a girl in 10 months. She just wants help finding “some hot babes.”

Kia looks around at the other tables and spies a woman with long, lifeless, hippy-dippy hair and grandpa glasses sitting alone in a booth big enough for four. “Contestant number one,” she offers.

Max turns and gives the woman a not-so-subtle once over. “Clearly, your attachment to the ’70s is worse than I realized,” she says. Heh.

Kia says she already knows hogging-a-whole-booth-girl. Furthermore, Kia thinks her acquaintance is cute. Max (and I) disagree. “I have one word for you: U-G-L-Y, she ain’t got no alibi, she’s ugly,” she sings. That was more than one word, but let’s not quibble.

Artsy-fartsy — Here come some interstitials of book pages flipping again. How about these equally cryptic substitutions: a can of tuna, a naked mannequin, a hamster wearing little orange pants?

An introduction — As Kia and Max leave the café, they run into booth-girl. “Hey, how’s Kate?” Kia asks her.

“She’s fine. She’s staying in Seattle right now,” says booth-girl.

Kia was trying to set Max up with a girl with a girlfriend?

Booth-girl makes chitty-chat about her new job at a vet’s office until Max interrupts and introduces herself. Booth-girl returns the favor and says, “I’m Ely.”

Ely then promptly bids them adieu. Max doesn’t care. She has zero interest in Ely. Ever been set up by your friends, only to be left wondering how your friends could not know you at all?

Ding Dong — Max shows up at Ely’s door. “Sorry I’m late,” she says. Max, Ely and Kia were going catch a gay film, but Kia mysteriously canceled at the last minute, so Max is there alone. That Kia is a crafty, transparent thing.

Max and Ely are blocking the doorway when along comes Daria with her hookup du jour, a girl with the worst mullet I’ve ever seen. Daria stops to flirt a little with Max before taking Mullet to a romantic meal at Burrito Palace .

Interstitial break — A framed picture of Billy Ray Cyrus, gag nose-glasses, a donkey pulling a cart of full of cabbage.

Later that night — Max and Ely have returned from the gay movie, and Max thinks it was awful. (Hard to believe, right?) “Why do queers always have to be so pathetic?” Max asks.

Ely disagrees: “We expect queer filmmakers to take the responsibility to represent the entire community, and I think that’s a lot to ask.” Amen, sister.

Ely offers Max some tea, and hoo boy, the girl has quite a selection. And it’s all herbal. There’s even a box labeled “Menstrual-T.” She really likes tea. Max wants something cold, so what does Ely offer her? Iced tea.

They’re getting along fine now. Max smiles warmly, and Ely doesn’t seem like such a fidgety geek anymore.

Ely talks about her job as a nurse’s aid for a pet hospital. Max tells her she killed a guinea pig once. Ely claims she severed a snake in two with the lawnmower, but taped it back together and it lived. Oh, the things we tell girls to impress them.

I guess it is impressive enough, because a moment later, they’re kissing.

The phone rings. The machine picks up: “Hi sweetie, it’s me. Are you there? Call me when you get in; I have some great news. I’m missing you today.” Beeeep .

Max asks innocently, “Is that your mom?” Ely says it’s her girlfriend, Kate, who’s been living in Seattle for two and a half years. Two and a half years. That’s not a partner, honey. That’s a pen pal.

Max immediately moves away from Ely on the couch. They sit in silence. Awkward, much?

Interstitials — A used tea bag, an old boot, a monkey playing a piano.

The four muses — Kia, Evy, Daria and Daria’s latest pickup (some girl named Melanie who prefers to be called Mel) are lying on the floor with their heads together in a tight circle. Yeah, my friends lie around talking all the time. It’s so much more comfortable than sitting on furniture.

Daria comments, “That date was a bad scene, man.”

Everyone agrees that Seattle Kate must go if Max and Ely are going to have a chance.

Kia says about Ely’s situation, “I can’t believe they’re still going out together. It’s a perfect example of how lesbians never break up.” Finally someone said it out loud.

How do they know the details about the date? Either they’re spying on Max and Ely or Troche and Turner are using them as ersatz muses. Let’s say they’re muses. Kia is the muse I’ll call Gyno; Evy can be Labia since it sounds medical and she’s a nurse or something; Daria the slut is Playto; and her pickup date is Last Calliope.

You tricked me — Back in real time, Max calls shenanigans on Kia’s movie date trick. Kia (any chance her last name is Sonata?) ‘fesses up and says, “OK, maybe I thought after you got past your shallow fashion requirements, you might find Ely interesting.”

Max gives Kia a list of reasons why she’ll never be attracted to Ely: “She dresses like my mom did in the ’70s; she has a hundred different kinds of tea, all decaf; she liked that stupid movie; and last and most importantly, she’s married.”

Max tells Kia that Ely has no reason she can’t move to Seattle , and she never said the word “love” so maybe there really isn’t a relationship there. Kia also wonders if Ely and Daria are hooking up, since they live together. Max says, yuck, Daria’s a ho.

Kia replies, “You leave Daria alone. What would you rather our collective lesbian image be: hot, passionate, say-yes-to-sex dykes, or touchy-feely, soft-focus sisters of the woodlands?” Kia rocks.

Max is exasperated. “Why is it always like this? I just want to find a girlfriend and have there be no catches, no glitches, no booby traps …” Ha. Did she become a lesbian yesterday?

Drama is fun, as long as it’s not your own — Muses Gyno (Kia), Labia (Evy), Playto (Daria) and Last Calliope (now played by a new chick named Samantha) are lying on the floor analyzing the Max and Ely sitch.

Gyno’s bummed it doesn’t look like there’s going to be a love connection. Playto says, “Ely’s just this way. She has to get really down before she’ll do something radical with her life. I’ve seen it before.” She then offers to fix the situation by dating Max herself.

Gyno thinks Max has an ideal girlfriend in her head that resembles “hip-hop Barbie” and will never find what she’s looking for.

Geek makeover — Ely does something radical all right: She gets almost all her hair shaved off. So now instead of looking like a fidgety, no-alibi woman, she looks like a fidgety, no-alibi dude. I laugh out loud. My girlfriend looks up from her book (she refuses to watch this with me) and says, “She looks like Beetle Bailey.”

Do I know you? — Days pass. Max is eyeing Ely in a book store, but she’s not sure it’s her because of Ely’s new Ft. Bragg doo (and yes, I mean doo as in doo-doo). Finally, Max moves in as Ely peruses the latest edition of Tea Lovers Weekly and says, “Hey, I thought that was you.”

Max thinks Ely’s hair is a bold gender-bender. Ely says she wasn’t trying to look more butch but “someone” said she looked like a hippie, and that was the last straw. Max admits when she wants to cut her hair because it’s getting long, she worries people will think she’s doing it to “look more like a real dyke.”

Max’s standard outfit consists of a backwards baseball cap, a boy’s T-shirt and long shorts. She looks like Leave it to Beaver. All she’s missing is a slingshot in her back pocket. Somehow, I don’t think the length of her hair is the tip-off that she’s gay.

It’s just sex — Daria’s in bed with yet another conquest. Wow, that girl she’s with has absolutely no boobs. Wait a minute. That’s a guy. Did Daria run out of girls? How does this munchkin in a leather jacket get so much action?

In a dream sequence, Daria is walking alone at night when she’s confronted by a gang of 10 or so angry lesbians. Poor Daria. There’s nothing worse than being called out by a gang of pissed-off lesbians.

With her back to the wall, Daria is grilled by the Sappho Greek Chorus. “What do you think you’re doing?” asks one of them harshly. “Makes me sick,” says another, disgustedly. “My definition of a lesbian does not involve men in any way,” sniffs another.

Daria defends her right to do as she pleases.

“We’re not talking about life commitment here,” Daria says, “we’re talking about sex.” She adds, “Ya know, if a gay man has sex with a woman, he was bored, drunk, lonely, whatever. And if a lesbian has sex with a man, her whole life choice becomes suspect. I think it’s bulls—.”

Hoo boy. While all this is going on, I notice one of the accusers in the back row is wearing an Eddie Munster T-shirt. I want that shirt. The whole dream is shot in c inema vérité, a handheld camera style of filmmaking which, loosely translated, means “no tripod money.”

A bad dream — Max has a dream sequence of her own. One minute she’s dressed like the Beav, the next, she’s in a white wedding gown. She wonders aloud, “What if I black out and I wake up alone midday in a house and I’ve been napping? And I find out I’ve been married to a man?” Yikes, talk about a nightmare.

As she imagines a straight life with kids and a husband, to not be strapped with “the awkward title of ‘aunt,'” Max stands rock still in a wedding gown as various women walk up to her, kiss her on the cheek and walk off.

We’re subjected to a long and rambling soliloquy about imagined anniversary dinners and holidays with the in-laws — none of which you want me to repeat, trust me. Suffice it to say, it goes on and on and on.

At one point, Max says, “It doesn’t seem so far-fetched. Like being caught in crossfire and dying, or slipping on oil someone else unwittingly spilled.” She’s not prone to bromides, I’ll give her that, but what the hell is she talking about?

Other random women stand single file facing the camera and walk off one at a time as Max intones, “We’re not waiting for a man. I’m not waiting for a man. I just hate this feeling a man is waiting for me.” I hate the feeling of waiting for you to finish your existential meandering.

Back to reality — Evy has to show her face at her own house every now and then. Her mother is cooking, and her ex-boyfriend, Junior, is sitting at the kitchen table when she walks in the door. “Hi Mommy,” Evy says, but she isn’t greeted in return.

Big Mama says something in Spanish and then, “Where were you last night?”

“Uh … I … I was with … at Marta’s,” Evy lies. Slap! Her mother strikes her across the face.

“Junior told [me] where you was at last night,” her mother says as Junior stares at Evy, smirking. “He saw you in one of those gay bars. Is it true? … No wonder Junior left you.”

Evy snaps back at her mom, “Is that what he told you?” She tussles with Big Mama. Big Mama curses her in Spanish. Evy grabs her bag and heads for the door.

“Where are you going?” Big Mama demands.

Evy says, “I’m getting outta here.” She turns to Junior and points at him. “And you’re a f—ing a–hole!” What, not staying for dinner?

Evy wanders the streets. She ends up at Casa Kia y Max. Kia’s not home, so Evy sits on the steps with Max and tells her how Junior set her up. Dykes are a loyal bunch — Max is ready to take Junior down.

She launches into a tirade: “I’d like to get that guy … get a big pack of dykes and corner him in an alley and make him beg each and every one of us not to kill him, and then kill him anyway. Evy, man, we should squash him, we should get revenge on him …”

I like Max. Not just because she’s so cute dressed like Beaver Cleaver with her fifth-grader striped T-shirts, shorts and caps, but because she’s a good friend. (And grows up to look like Gabby Deveaux.)

Max tells Evy she can move in with her and Kia.

Meanwhile, Daria and Ely are doing laundry. Or rather, Ely is doing laundry while Daria drinks beer and gives her crap for not getting into the sack with Max. “You really ought to loosen up, chill out, maybe get laid,” Daria says.

To help Ely with that, Daria decides to throw a dinner party and invite Max. Actually, she wants to “invite a whole bunch of hot babes, and it will turn into a massive orgy.” What does one bring to a dinner and an orgy? Cucumbers? Whipped cream?

Apparently, Daria throws a dinner party the way she does laundry. Ely is doing all the cooking while Daria has sex in the other room with some girl. Around the time dinner is done, so is Daria.

It’s eight o’clock, and the guests have arrived. For the party, short-and-squat Daria is wearing a black, short-sleeved shirt, a black vest, tight black shorts and black shoes with black socks. Her black hair is slicked straight back. She looks exactly like Eddie Munster. Troche and Turner have a thing for Eddie Munster, I’m sure of it.

Meanwhile, Ely, with her goofball crew cut and old-tymey, black frame glasses, is wearing a big, ill-fitting men’s dress shirt and suspenders. These are two smoking hot babes.

Good food, good times — After a sumptuous meal, the girls gather around the living room and start playing a truth-or-dare type game. Daria says, “I’ve never … I’ve never had sex with anyone in this room.” A few girls, but not everyone, take a drink.

Kia says, “I’ve never had sex on a train that stopped because it was in an accident.” She takes a drink as everyone laughs.

“I’ve never fallen in love at first site,” Evy says. She and Kia make googly eyes at each other and take a drink. I think I get it now. If you think this game is stupid, you take a drink.

Max doesn’t want to ask a sex question when it’s her turn. “I’ve never turned in a paper late.” Buzz-kill. Everyone drinks.

Ely says, “I’ve never had sex with Daria.” Heh. Good one. But then, Evy takes a drink.

Kia says, “Hey!” Uncomfortable silence fills the room. Didn’t I tell you about that, honey?

Evy says, “OK, I admit it. It was a mistake!” Kia handles the news pretty well. I’d go apesheet if my girlfriend spilled a bean like that in front of my friends.

Afterward, Max and Ely are doing the dishes together. With Max dressed de rigeur for a ’50s sitcom and Ely in her suspenders and man shirt, now they look exactly like Ward Cleaver and the Beaver having a father-son talk. Until they start kissing. This scene is so disturbing.

Some progress — After that fateful night, Max and Ely begin the phone phase of their relationship. Where’d you go to school? What was your first girlfriend like? Oh and hey, by the way, what’s your last name? You know you’re getting serious when you know a girl’s last name.

Ely tells Max she broke up with Seattle Kate on her answering machine. Ordinarily, that’s not the classiest thing to do, but if you haven’t seen your girlfriend in over two years, it’s a formality at that point.

How many words for “vagina” do you know? — The muses reconvene to discuss why it’s taking so dang long for Max and Ely to get it on. Gyno says, “Never underestimate the power of a woman who’s been deprived of the honey pot.”

The others don’t care for her euphemism. “Honey pot?!” Playto says incredulously.

Labia, the medical professional, offers “vagina.” Playto says “love mounds” but Gyno thinks it’s too Victorian. Labia tries “girl patch.” The C-word is definitely out. Playto want to just go with “beav.” Now I know I saw this on The L Word. Not that it matters at all, but this session’s Last Calliope is a girl named Della.

Finally — Three years later, Ely asks Max out on a date. OK, it’s not three years later. But it feels like three years later.

The big date — Max is waiting for Kia and Evy to stop giggling in the shower so she can get ready for her date. They finally mosey out, and Max is left with 10 minutes to get ready. Roommates can be such pains in the ass.

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Ely is trying on every single one of her too-big men’s shirts. She looks in the mirror and fiddles with what’s left of her hair. She tries on a hat. No. She gives up. She’s so unbelievably dorky, it’s almost sweet. But she still “ain’t got no alibi.”

Ely gets to Max’s place early. Way behind schedule thanks to her lovebird roomies, Max is just emerging from the bathroom wearing a robe when she sees Ely standing there looking nervous and dopey. “You’re early,” says Max. “Oh no, it’s me. I’m late.”

She puts Ely on the couch to wait so she can put on her Beav outfit, which sounds better than it actually is.

Max joins her in the living room, but she’s still in her robe. She puts on some womyn’s folk music. She has some fashion choices she wants Ely to help her with. Ely is not the person you want to go to with fashion questions.

While they’re ruminating over shirts, Max notices Ely’s fingernails. She says, “Oh my God, look at your nails.” That was kinda rude.

Ely asks for some clippers. Max goes back to the bathroom and returns, handing the nail clippers to Ely. Ely can’t seem to get the clippers to work (spaz), so Max sits down and starts cutting her nails for her.

Personal grooming seems to be a turn-on, because they start kissing right there amongst the dead clippings, and before you can say “emery board,” they’re in bed. This is one weird date.

The morning after — Ely is floating on air. She’s practically skipping down the street as she makes her way home. She sneaks into the house and for once, it’s her who’s coming in the next morning, and not player Daria.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Daria says teasingly as she catches Ely trying to creep quietly across the living room. Daria is wearing footie pajamas.

After a little grilling, Ely admits that yes, she was with Max. “Then it’s true!” Daria gives Ely a hug.

Meanwhile, across town, Evy and Kia are giving the same third degree to Max. All Max will allow is, “It was great.”

With a little friendly prodding, each giddy girl gives her friends a blow-by-blow of the evening’s sexploits. No one can believe the whole thing started with nail clipping.

Finally, a sex scene to accompany the re-telling. Both Max and Ely haven’t had any booty in a long time, so let’s just say they had fun. And that it’s a good thing Ely cut her nails.

“Congratulations,” Daria says at the end of the story. “Why didn’t you stay?” she asks.

Ely shrugs. “Playing hard-to-get.”

Ely and Max live happily ever after.

Lesbian Apparel and Accessories Gay All Day sweatshirt -- AE exclusive

Related Articles

Leave a Reply

Back to top button