A recurring trend on Netflix is the overrating of gay and lesbian themed films. It's fairly easy to understand why: in a niche market, consensus from a smaller group of patrons tends towards the more extreme. Further, a demographic so frequently ignored and/or marginalized is bound to react positively to any movie that doesn't portray its members as outsiders or misfits, whether the film itself is well-made or not. It's easy for a truly good movie to get lost in this crowd, but Urbania is one that should appeal to anyone who appreciates well-made film.
Blaxploitation films of the 70s are generally pretty shabby - especially considering they came out of a decade widely considered as cinema's best and one that produced The Godfather, Chinatown, Apocalypse Now and The Deer Hunter. Regardless, they were far more popular in the black community than the aforementioned luminaries, by virtue of the fact that they at least purported to depict that community.
It's been said that gay is the new black, with the campaign to legalize gay marriage being equated to the civil rights movement of the 60s. To a degree, the same phenomenon that occurred with blaxploitation is occurring in gay film. Thus films that by any standard, gay or straight, qualify as utter dreck (such as Relax, It's Just Sex! and Kiss Me Guido) receive an inordinately high rating on Netflix.
What a treat then, to rent a gay-themed movie that lives up to its stars. Urbania, adapted for the screen by Daniel Reitz from his play Urban Folk Tales, is among the strongest of the lot. The movie stars Dan Futterman, who's best known for his role as the gay couple's son in The Bird Cage, but also received an Oscar nomination for his screenplay for 2005's Capote. Revolving around Futterman's character is a maelstrom of urban legends as he attempts to come to terms with a traumatic event in his past. It is a challenging film, one that doesn't seem to click into focus until the very end but becomes glaringly potent when it does, and one that becomes more resonant upon repeat viewings.
Urbania also has a lush, fluid visual style. Unlike other stage adaptations, whose transitions to the big screen bear signs of a struggle (Jeffrey, while fairly hilarious, is a primary example) Urbania owes nothing to its roots. Rather than feeling like a filmed production on a proscenium stage, as many stage adaptations do, the movie, through director Jon Shear, makes full use of the storytelling potential of the camera, weaving reality through cinematography in a manner reminiscent of other artful visual narrators such as Scorsese or Paul Thomas Anderson.
Avoiding a number of pitfalls, Urbania is a richly compelling mental travelogue. Though some of its segues into various urban legends feel forced at times, it overall manages to buck a dispiriting trend.