Like You Mean It (2015): The Cinematic Masterpiece on Queerness, Masculinity, and Pain that Went Unnoticed
If you’re anything like me, you’ll often find yourself on Netflix — visiting the LGBT section to catch up on whatever new, gay films Netflix managed to add to its collection. In the years that I’ve had Netflix, I’ve come across some great films such as Blue is The Warmest Color (2013), Pit Stop (2013), and En la Gama de los Grises (2015). Likewise, being a queer-film enthusiast myself, I’d quickly lose myself in the lives, nuances, and intimacies of these characters, often by watching these films late at night by myself. Today, however, I’m writing to you as there has been another queer film that I recently watched that moved me just as much as the others did but never quite reached the same popularity. This film is called Like You Mean It (2015).
Much like the aforementioned films, I first came across this film on Netflix and under the same premise of looking for my next queer film to enjoy. I originally watched this film on September 6, 2016 (according to my Netflix history) and although I can’t remember much about my first viewing experience, I know for sure that I enjoyed it. The film made me feel deeply for the characters. Eventually, some time past — weeks, then months, then years. At some point in time, I logged onto Netflix looking for this film again only to realize that I couldn’t remember the name nor find the thumbnail for the movie. And despite how much I enjoyed this movie, this movie quickly became a fading memory.
It wasn’t until a week ago that I decided to clean out some of my bookmarks and stumbled upon this film again — Like You Mean It. And well, I decided to rewatch it and subsequently, write about it.
Like You Mean It is a film written, directed, and produced by Philipp Karner — who also happened to play the main protagonist of the film. This film is considered an indie film as it was both crowd funded and featured on indie websites.
The origin of Like You Mean It officially began on indiegogo.com. For those of you who haven’t heard of indiegogo.com, it was somewhat of an alternative to Kickstarter. Of course, very few folks know of this website today as it never reached the same popularity that Kickstarter did. Anyhow, the Indiegogo page for Like You Mean It launched sometime in 2014 and managed to raise 22k of it’s projected 50k, with most of the funding being used for post-production.
Filming for Like You Mean It began on March 31, 2014 and continued into April of that same year, with the following months being dedicated to post-production. The first un-official trailer for the film was released on May 4, 2014 to promote the film’s indiegogo campaign. It wouldn’t be until October 6, 2015 that the first official trailer for the film would be released. Like You Mean It saw it’s first official release on December 4, 2015 and on August 31, 2016, was added to Netflix.
(And yes, I had to do a lot research to get these details right).
I will preface this article now by stating that if you’re looking for a film that will reward you with warm feelings for playing the part of an audience, then this is not the film for you. Like You Mean It is the type of film that begins on a bad note, somehow manages to end on a worse note, and punishes the audience for paying attention. This is not to say that there is no learning experience nor that you shouldn’t watch it. On the contrary, as someone who enjoys and learns from tragic characters, Like You Mean It is the type of film that I’d inevitably find and appreciate anyways. And despite it’s 38% score on Rotten Tomatoes, I actually think that it deserves at least a 99% if not higher.
*Spoilers below*
Now having covered the origins of the film, let’s talk about the film itself. Originally, when I first watched this movie in 2016, I remembered the film as having to do with two men being in love and going through emotional hardship. Two years later, now having a Bachelor’s degree in psychology and more experience on being queer, my viewing experience for Like You Mean It was a bit different.
Originally, Philipp Karner marketed the film as being about two men in love, Mark and Jonah, played by Philipp Karner and Denver Milord respectively. To quote Karner’s pitch for the film, “I wanted to tell the story of one couple as they commit to saving their relationship when it hits a major rough spot.” This, from my first viewing, stood true. However, now having viewed the film a second time, I would contest that there are enough nuances in the film to suggest more to the story. This is to say, Like You Mean It is less about two men in love and more about Mark and his inability to love.
Factually, the plot for Like You Mean It does follow Mark and Jonah’s relationship, however, the story does not follow both characters equally. For starters, the camera often follows Mark and his narrative: we get to see mark audition for jobs or interact with other characters independently of Jonah. Moreover, we also get to see Mark in settings where he is completely alone, like when he is rehearsing lines in his car, listening to his stereo, or going through a carwash. In someways, the camera attempts to convince the viewer that they are in a passenger seat, watching Mark silently; a nuance that no other characters in the film received. Additionally, the film also includes flashbacks. And although it’s a bit hard to discern why the flashbacks are there, we can reasonably deduct that they are Mark’s as we eventually see Mark close his eyes in his car, then experience the flashback of Mark and Jonah at the beach, only for Mark to open his eyes again.
Anyhow, if we agree with the premise that the film is about Mark and his experience with the relationship, then we as the audience can knowingly approach the relationship via Mark’s point of view, attitudes, and actions. And although both want to continue the relationship, it is ultimately Mark who instigates it’s demise, long before other major plot points (most notably, Mark’s father passing away).
When I reflect on this film, I believe that its real intrinsic value lies in the complexities that Mark has and is. For example, an ongoing plot point throughout the film revolves around Mark stating repeatedly how Jonah wants to “go back to the beginning” in respect to the relationship — the irony being that it’s only Mark that mentions “beginning” and only ever watching Mark go through the film’s flashbacks. Jonah’s input on the relationship could be summed up with “I want us to act like a couple. Like we used to. Have fun again.” So while both of them want the relationship to be like how it used to, Mark’s approach is more restoration oriented as he’s the only one wanting the relationship to return to some historical moment, some genesis. Jonah, more so, wants to have the relationship work in the present but with some familiarity of the past.
All things considered, it would be safe to assume that Jonah’s ‘supposed’ desire to go back is both a projection and a disguised cry for help from Mark. By repeatedly crediting these sentiments to Jonah, Mark absolves himself of taking responsibility for such desires.
To briefly recap where Mark is in his life, we frequently see him auditioning for acting roles but often receives poor outcomes. Moreover, in his few interactions with interviewers or employers, Mark consistently gets treated with a cold shoulder, making him feel dejected as he never really has stable employment nor gratifying work. Aside from this, there are infrequent instances where Mark either struggles with his mental health, masculinity, or sexuality, which I will get to later in this article.
To return to the idea of sabotaging, we see Mark throughout the film doing things that would harm the relationship rather than save it, regardless of how attentive and kind Jonah is towards Mark. For example, Mark un-consensually fetishizes Jonah (e.g., encouraging Jonah to act as a straight stranger during a sex scene, which essentially robs Jonah of not only his sexuality but his identity as well). Later on, Mark un-consensually drugs Jonah with ecstasy and admits to doing so when Jonah begins to feel strange. At another point in the film, Mark un-consensually schedules a couple’s therapy without having asked Jonah if that’d be okay.
Lastly, although this didn’t directly affect Jonah, Mark knowingly cheats on Jonah. During an errand, Mark runs into an old acquaintance named Kyle and lies about being in a relationship with Jonah so that he could hook up with Kyle. The hookup turns slightly awkward when Mark tries to hold hands with Kyle — something that Mark has only done with Jonah. It should go without saying, a lot of the film is Mark being a hypocrite by borrowing bits of Jonah and using them elsewhere, e.g., Jonah calling Mark’s attempts at seduction “weird” (e.g., drunk Mark dancing alone in the dark for Jonah), but later on, Mark calls Kyle’s attempt to seduce him as “weird” (e.g., Kyle playing porn in background for Mark, despite how Mark actually enjoys porn).
I should also say now that having written out all these details, Mark seems like a really bad guy; you’d almost think this is a horror movie instead of a romance movie based off the cheating and the lack of consent in the film. Don’t get me wrong, Mark is actually a pretty bad person, but part of the issue with the film is how it’s being told. While you’re watching Like You Mean It, you may feel the need to root for Mark simply because he is the protagonist. And so it becomes hard to tell when Mark is actually in the wrong throughout the film (and it doesn’t get any easier with Mark projecting his desire of wanting to go back on to Jonah). If you’ve ever watched 500 Days of Summer, it’s somewhat similar to that — where the audience more or less is tricked into rooting for the protagonist simply because he is a protagonist, despite that he’s problematic.
For those of you who haven’t watched 500 Days of Summer, the male protagonist attempts to “win over” a girl who was very clear about not wanting to be in a relationship and then we proceed to feel bad for the protagonist when things don’t work out for him in the end; the film being a subtle commentary on how men can be overbearing, yet, are still afforded sympathy by the viewer.
This is all to say, Mark did bad things in the film, but because he is the protagonist and because he’s also having a hard time (which likely illicits pity from the audience), we can easily forget that he’s a jerk. Of course, this is not to say that Mark is all of a sudden the antagonist in Like You Mean It, rather, Mark resembles a tragic character more than anything else. Or at least, that’s my take.
In this next part of the article, I will briefly comment on some notable elements of Like You Mean It that I personally wanted to flesh out. Specifically, I want to talk about some of the nuances of mental health, gender, and sexuality.
For starters, portions of the film show how something is wrong with Mark’s health. Early in the film, Mark is seen taking natural supplements, Mark assuring Jonah that they are ‘working’ and then changing the subject. Later in the film, Jonah brings up a past agreement between Jonah and Mark regarding “weird” behavior. Towards the middle of the film, Mark is seen trying to get back on anti-depressants, which initially work but trigger a panic attack later in the film. Lastly, although less pivotal to the storyline, Mark frequently asks Jonah to lay on top of him so as to put weight on Mark. Granted, from my years in psychology, this is the one thing in the film I had trouble understanding. From what I was able to infer, physical pressure can sometimes be used to relieve stress and anxiety, similar to how autistic folks sometimes respond positively to pressure. The reason why it’s worth pointing all of these different details out — and without attempting to purposefully cause offense — is because Mark is, undoubtedly, a receptacle of mental health issues.
This in mind, Like You Mean It incorporates mental health and queerness into the same plot. Although the question now becomes: how well does Like You Mean It do this? I’d personally argue that it is incorporated well.
From common knowledge and research studies, it goes without saying that queerness is frequently associated with having some sort of mental health issue. And I’m not referring to homosexuality as a disorder, like how previous DSMs have suggested, rather, the tendency for queer folks to have a predisposition for depression, anxiety, etc., more so than our non-queer counterparts. And so, Like You Mean It manages to integrate these two elements without it feeling forced or skewing it from reality. For example, there is no “anti-psychotics are bad!” theme that filmmakers sometimes exaggerate nor is there some pivotal trauma that requires some symbolic “cure.” Rather, Like You Mean It portrays the nuances of something being wrong without it being named — which is a relevant reality for some seeking therapy.
For those unfamiliar with the psychological and counseling industry, it is not uncommon for clinicians to work with patients without assigning them a diagnosis. A lot of times, folks find themselves stressed and simply need to talk with a clinician; e.g., recall Mark admitting to Jonah that he’s “stressed” early in the film when the two of them are at the dinner table. And so some clinicians choose not to assign a diagnosis if they don’t have to. It’s not too different than visiting a licensed marriage and family therapist and walking out without someone having diagnosed you. It’s simply not a requirement at times. As for the psychiatrist in the film who prescribes Mark the anti-depressants, I’d only like to comment that a prescription doesn’t always translate to a diagnosis. Anti-depressants, as were used by Mark, can be used as short-term solutions for personality disorders or anxiety disorders; so as a viewer, we can never confidently pinpoint what is going on with Mark.
The point I’m trying to make is that — for some folks in a healthcare system — there tends to be a common theme of maladjustment without a diagnosis, which at times can make us feel like we’re stumbling around in the dark. And so in the film, we know that something is recurrently wrong with Mark, but we as the viewers, don’t know what. And as much as we may feel compelled to draw definitive conclusions from the pharmaceutical nuances in the film, we simply can’t. This being said, Mark’s experience in someways echoes the reality of some queer folks in the counseling and psychological services industry. To be going on and off care for unspecified conditions.
If I haven’t already bored you out of your mind, I will now talk about gender and sexuality. For starters, in a late night scene between Jonah and Mark, Jonah lies on top of Mark, and after a short silence, Mark asks Jonah, “Do you think I’m masculine?.” Which Jonah responds with “Yea, of course. Why?” Mark then ends with “I don’t know. It’s just to know what I’m missing, you know?”
Although subtle, I think that this interaction spoke to Mark and his struggling identity, likely stemming from his inability to secure an acting career or meaningful work all together. This is to say, his inability to accomplish his goals likely produce self-doubt in Mark, which is why he asks Jonah about whether or not he’s still masculine. And although I’m glad to hear that Mark is willing to confide in Jonah as to how he’s perceived, another part of me really feels for Mark for having to check in on something like masculinity in the first place.
As for my commentaries on the sexuality, I’d like to revisit the sex scene where Mark fetishizes Jonah. As mentioned earlier, Mark encourages Jonah to act as a straight stranger in bed, despite Jonah clearly disliking it. This interaction, in my opinion, was a rather disheartening scene in the film. This sentiment of gay men lusting over straight men has been a long and recurring theme within our community — both in fiction and in real life. However, these sentiments can sometimes double up as internalized homophobia, e.g., gay men not wanting to be reminded of their gayness. That is to say, internalized homophobia will sometimes lead a gay man to avoid flamboyant twinks, and instead, seek men that are masculine and straight-passing. And although this interaction between Mark and Jonah could have been a harmless fetish that Jonah wanted no part in, it could have easily been a commentary towards gay culture and some of it’s problems.
As I wrap up my final sentiments and thoughts on Like You Mean It, I decided to draw on two scenes that could offer us valuable insight on some things that were not being said throughout the film. The first scene I’d like to highlight happens on the 35 minute mark where Jonah and Mark are driving together following their couple’s therapy appointment.
Mark: “How do you do it?”
Jonah: “What?”
Mark: “You’re just always in a good mood.”
Jonah: “I don’t know. It depends on what you focus on, I guess.”
Mark: “Right… I just think we’re different.”
This second scene takes place between Mark and Nicole (i.e., a good friend of Mark’s). Around the 26 minute mark, Nicole is trying on an outfit for her wedding. Mark briefly comments to Nicole about his relationship with Jonah. (Nicole in this scene arguably doubles up as a parallel to Mark as she’s also dating someone whose “too nice”).
Mark: “Jonah thinks that if we can just go back to the beginning everything will be alright.”
Nicole: “Because you’re the jerk and he’s the victim. People always put you in that role, it’s very convenient.”
The problem with this scene is that we don’t know how well Nicole and Mark know each other for Nicole to read Mark like this. Moreover, because Nicole doesn’t get much screen time, we can only put so much credibility towards her judgement.
Anyhow, based off the car scene between Mark and Jonah, Mark understands that Jonah is the much happier and attentive partner while Mark himself is essentially an antithesis. However, in the second scene with Mark and Nicole, Nicole turns the tables assuring Mark that there might be more to Mark’s story and that people tend to unfairly default Mark to be the “jerk” while others (e.g., Jonah) get to play the “victim.”
And so as audiences, we are left to judge who is right, who is wrong, and who should we feel for, but unfortunately, Like You Mean It never tells us how to definitively do any of this. Like I stated before, Like You Mean It is the type of film that manages to punish the audience for paying attention.
Interestingly enough, the scene with Nicole reading Mark’s situation might have been the closest moment in the film where the fourth wall was breached. Letting the audience know that they are playing into what everyone else has done. To write off Mark as a jerk because it’s convenient. Essentially, as Mark mulls over this “go back to the beginning” concept, Nicole manages to give out one of the most crucial lines to Like You Mean It.
“Because you’re the jerk and he’s the victim. People always put you in that role, it’s very convenient.”
The audience is no longer able to make a definite decision on Mark because we simply don’t know anymore. Ironically, much like Mark throughout the entire film, we merely don’t know. But unlike Mark, we don’t run the risk of losing a romantic partner.
And as the film concludes, we simply feel. After all, what else is there to do but that?
— The end.
Because I loved this film so much, I’ll part with you Mark’s last lines to Jonah once again. Arguably the most painful lines to have to been read and heard throughout the entire film. By Mark, for Jonah, and for the viewer.
Dear Jonah, this is a list, in no particular order, of some of the things that I appreciate about you and will never forget. If you ever think of me sometime in the future, I hope you don’t just remember the bad moments but some of the beautiful ones we shared, as well. I know I will. Okay, like I said, in no particular order…
Thank you. With lots of queer and painfully tragic love,
