Heading South

Everyone despises male sex tourism. But there also is a female counterpart. This movie tells about middle-aged women, going to Haiti in the 70s. They give the native boys presents and get sex instead.

But that's not the whole truth. This is also about love tourism, because obviously these women have serious crushes on particularly one boy.

Is it just another form of imperialism or is it more complex? Why do we somehow pity these women, while we're condemning men in the same situation? This movie puts questions you didn't want to hear and turns things around.

A great topic and script headline 'Heading South' a movie about three women who vacation in Haiti in the 1970's for the sun and surf, but mainly to bed any black men they can find (who are available for the price). I mean, THAT'S fabulous! Who would've thought of that? All of them though, seem to have sights on one man, Legba. The competition for this man, soon becomes to the point that Legba tries to get out of his job as stud-for-hire, to somewhat catastrophic results. The three women, headed by the always excellent Charlotte Rampling, are quite great here, but the star here is the actor playing Legba, Menothy Cesar. The story essentially revolves around him, and he does a great job with actually a really demanding role.

I know a lot Americans guys travel to Thailand for young girls, and a lot German guys travel to Hungry for young boys. But I never know that sex tourism also include middle aged white women going to Haiti in the 70s for young black guys. That's a story a new film "Heading South" (Vers le sud) is telling.

Three mid-aged North American women (two Americans and one Canadian) went to Haiti for summer vacation in the 70s, soaking in the sun and their desire for beautiful young Haitian boys. They have what those boys don't have: money and social status. The boys have what the ladies don't have: their youth and bodies. When two of the three ladies want the same handsome 18 years old Legba, the vacation is over.

This is an excellent film. I love this film for its brutal honesty, its originality, its thought provoking subject, and its terrific performance. Money liberates these ladies' sexuality, but can money buy love that they really desire for? Isn't it interesting that these ladies wouldn't lay their eyes on a black guy back home, but they are lusting after these young men in the poorest country? What made the connection between them here in Haiti?

Taking us places we've never been before is one of the excellent ways cinema tells artistic stories. HEADING SOUTH deserves much credit for this aspect.

Rarely (if ever) do we see the darker side of female sexuality, and this is explored in minute detail in the film. But the message doesn't stop there. We also see the up- and ultimate downside of Western culture on a society struggling with its own identity; in this case, Haiti.

Haiti is the poorest nation in this hemisphere, not to mention riddled with an AIDS epidemic and a militaristic government. This comes into stark contrast as we watch Brenda (Karen Young) exit a plane in Port au Prince and walk between the desperate homeless and the gun-toting military. She is quickly whisked away from this ugliness and into an idyllic beach resort by its owner, Frank (Guiteau Nestant). Here she meets up with two other "civilized" women vacationers, Ellen (Charlotte Rampling) and Sue (Louise Portal, who has only the slightest role in the flick). They strike up an interesting if antagonistic relationship, especially whenever they're around the lithe and beautiful Legba (Menothy Cesar), a male prostitute of sorts who "services" the ladies of the resort. Yet much more is going on (and has gone on).

Brenda (a white woman from the States) first met Legba years before and experienced her first orgasm with him ...when she was 45; and he was only fifteen. Because we're in Haiti, though, pedofilia doesn't apply. The laws tend to be lax in that aspect. Brenda explains her first sexual encounter with Legba in brutally interesting terms (using words such as "threw myself" and "animal"). We also witness Ellen's attraction to Legba, which also goes deep (no pun intended). Brenda is 55 years old and knows she's on the downside of her sexual identity with men her own age, so seeks out a distant yet physically fulfilling relationship with Legba, too. Trouble is, though, is that both Ellen and Brenda find themselves more than just physically attracted to Legba. Brenda has no qualms about her feelings, and all but plants herself in his lap whenever she can. But Ellen tries to be more aloof, feigning disinterest in anything beyond physical desire (aka lying to herself). Brenda can see that Ellen wants Legba just as badly as she, and so bitter sparks fly amongst them.

But in the midst of these two battling and somewhat selfish women is Legba himself. Born into poverty, he finds himself trapped between the old Haiti and the possibility of a new life with one of the women from the resort (note: Legba is black, in case you didn't realize that). But relationship ties with his mother and an old flame flicker in his mind, holding him back, and threatening his very existence at important crossroads in the story. He's also more outspoken than most of his other male counterparts at the resort, and tells the women exactly what he thinks ("You look old like that"). This endears him even more to the summer visitors.

Life in Haiti is often vicious and fleeting, and this is brought home to the viewer when we watch Legba being chased through Port au Prince by a gun-wielding madman after someone sees him escorting a white woman around the city (Brenda). Nothing good can come from a relationship with these infrequent guests unless he can get off the island. But can he? Is he willing to let go of his homeland and his family in order to just survive in a distant world? Director Laurent Cantet gives us a very good character study while enveloping it in the political strife surrounding Haiti. But the film's pacing is exceptionally slow and male viewers may very well be turned off by the subject matter. Although female pedofilia does exist, it isn't nearly as rampant as the male version. And men may have a better sense of the separation between sex and love (this is a broad distinction, though, and may only hold true in a Mars Versus Venus sense).

Still, the story is interesting enough thanks to some great acting on the part of old-time sex symbol Charlotte Rampling (FAREWLL, MY LOVELY, 1975), and the first-time role of Menothy Cesar as the unforgettable Legba.

Laurent Cantet's new film reminds me a little of those Graham Greene novels about well-meaning Westerners who get mixed up in disastrous situations in third-world countries; think of The Quiet American, Our Man In Havana, or The Comedians, set in Haiti also. For the confused capitalist white men, Cantet substitutes middle-aged randy white women soaking up the sun and Tequila Sunrises outside Port-au-Prince. Thankfully there is very little political theory being spouted by the main characters, although Ellen cannot resist some harsh comments directed at Brenda late in the film.

Charlotte Rampling as Ellen has relatively few scenes, but leaves a great impression as a college professor whose value in the sexual marketplace shoots up when she leaves Boston for the tropics. She doesn't seem very bitter about this, just accepts it as part of the aging process. Karen Young is new to me, most of her work has been done for TV. Her part is different, more spiritual, less grounded in the realities of here and now. She has less inner resources to cope with the chaos and violence of Haiti. Louise Portal is one of my favorite Quebec actresses, known to foreign viewers through Denis Arcand's very funny Decline of The American Empire. Here she plays a woman who is simpler than Ellen or Brenda, happier and less conflicted about growing old.

Cantet's direction of actors and description of the poverty and desperation, as well as the beauty of the Haitian locales is very effective. I wondered what he was going to do after Time Out, that wintry cry of despair from the French Alps, and he hasn't disappointed me.