All language subtitles for Passing Strangersvvnvnnbn

[instrumental music]

[funky electronic music]

[projector noise]

- Outside line please, Carolyn.

- Tom's number again?

- Uh-huh.

His ad just came out in the Barb.

- Tom is running an ad?

- Yep, uh-huh. A sex ad.

Although it's not quite the usual kind.

- Artie, I'll get you his number.

You send the paper down here
when you through reading it.

I'd love to read it.

[dial tone]

[dialing]

[phone ringing]

- Hello, Tom.

- Yes, this is Tom.

- Well, Tom, it's out.

- Oh, Artie. What's out?

- Your ad. I just finished reading it.

Where did you ever come
up with the idea for it?

I didn't know you wrote poetry.

- Well, Artie. I don't.

I copied it out of a book of poems

that I have in my room.

I tried to write a regular ad but

I couldn't come up with anything,

except the usual Barb trip.

You know, gay, white, male, 28 years old,

6 foot 3, 160 pounds,
blond hair, blue eyes,

seeks...

- Seeks what?

- I drew a blank.

So, I sent in that poem
by Walt Whitman in instead.

Are you at the theater?

- Uh-huh.

- How's porno heaven?

- It's about the same Tom.

Two new flicks off from L.A.

Washed out colors,

shitty prints, lousy soundtracks.

The house is about half full.

You figure it.

- Yeah. What are the films about this week?

- Well,
one supposed to take place in Paris,

but it's the usual, boy meets girl.

Boy fucks girl.

Girl does everybody in town.

There's a beautiful dude
in the second feature

and the Paris one has a good fucking scene

in it near the end.

They're just about par for the course.

Were you late for work this morning?

- Artie, these days,
I've been late for work

just about every morning.

I went to the bar last
night and stayed 'til last call.

Then I cruised Polk Street,

and got home by 3:30 a.m. alone.

I was half asleep on the bus this morning.

I've been stumbling
around the office coasting

until lunchtime.

Listen, Artie.

What did you think of the ad?

I mean if, if you didn't know me at all,

would you answer it?

- Well, I like the last part, you know,

where it says, "I wake at night alone.

I do not doubt, we shall meet again.”

Heavy shit, but, no,
I wouldn't answer it, Tom.

Poetry is not my style.

- Well, I hope somebody answers it.

- Tom, you know who will answer your ad?

- Dear Box1154,

My name is Robert. I'm 18
years old. I've never answered

an ad in the Barb before.

But yours seem so different
from the others in the paper that

I thought I'd write to you.

It's been very difficult for
me to enter the gay world.

I live with my parents and I go
to school down by Aquatic Park.

I don't like school
that much. It's a hassle.

Being new to the gay scene is scary.

Even writing this letter is weird.

I don't know what to write.

I've thrown away six tries so far.

I'm going to mail this one
no matter how bad it is.

I wish you had put your name along
with your post office box number,

it would have made answering easier.

I'm into movies,

especially old ones.

I like music and I have a
pretty good collection of records.

I don't know how to end this letter.

I'm wondering about what you're like,

what your life is like.

Right now, things for me

are pretty heavy.

I guess that's why I'm answering your ad.

I wish I could put down
on paper what I'm feeling.

Sincerely, Robert.

P.S. My address is 2468B
Day Street San Francisco.

If you answer,
don't put your name and return

address on the outside of the envelope.

My parents might ask who you are.

[instrumental piano music]

[projector noise]

[sleazy electronic music]

[TV sounds]

- KDUX San Francisco
in cooperation with the

Worthington Foundation presents

Silent Screen Classics,
films from Hollywood's

Golden Era. Tonight,
D.W. Griffith's Broken Blossoms, starring

Lillian Gish and Richard
Barthelmess. Released in 1919, Broken

Blossoms, marked Griffith's
return to the simple melodrama

after the commercial failure
of his masterwork, Intolerance.

Broken Blossoms is a story of
the doomed relationship between

an Oriental man and a
White girl filmed in 19 days.

[Broken Blossoms playing on TV]

- Dear Robert, thanks for answering my ad.

I got your letter yesterday at the
post office. I'm, I hardly know where to

begin. First,
I didn't write that ad by myself. I copied

it out of a book because, well,
I'm not a very good writer

and it was hard to think of
words to describe my scene

these days. I hope you understand.

You asked about me in your letter.

I'm 28 years old.

I've lived in San
Francisco for about 5 years.

I was born in New York City.

I work at the telephone
company in an office downtown.

It's a job.

At night, I go ask the bars.

The Stud is my favorite place.

On weekends,
I usually the windup with the baths.

I've been going there a lot lately.

I like the baths because

I can be close to a man without all the

hassles and introductions

and heavy bar cruising.

Things that the baths don't last too long.

But,

I've met some good folks there.

My friend, Artie,

says that sex is my
primary interest in life.

I don't know.

But then again,
he may be right because on Sunday,

unless it's raining very hard,

I'm out cruising.

On Polk Street.

[instrumental ragtime music]

- You said in your letter,
Robert, that it's hard for you to

enter the gay scene.

I started on the street
when I was really young.

I'd see some man who turned me on.

I'd look and wish we could just
go somewhere and go to bed.

Finally, a guy came over and talked and

said hello,

and that was it.

Some of my friends think
cruising the streets is trashy but,

I still dig it.

It's out in the open and I can always

back out if I change my mind.

I live close enough to
Polk Street to walk home

with whoever I meet.

And,

just have good time.

If any of this stuff makes sense,
write back.

I'd like to get to know you better.

Love, Tom.

P.S.

If you answer,
you don't have to write to Box 1154.

I live at 3098 California Street.

Zip, 94115.

[instrumental rock music]

[telephone clicks]

[dialing]

[dial tone]

[sleazy electronic music]

[telephone rings]

- This is a recorded message
of the program at the Variety

Cinema on Turk Street.

San Francisco's oldest Art Cinema.

Through next Tuesday, two films from
Miracle Motion Pictures,

Nymphets Go to Paris
with Gabrielle Gabrielle

and Lina LaMont in Fuck Me,
Fuck Me, My Sweet.

Nymphets at 10, 2, 6 and 10 p.m.

Fuck Me at noon 4, 8 and midnight.

For further information, hold the line.

- Hello, Artie?

- Tom, how're you doing?

- Okay.
- How's it going with the letter writing?

Well, I've written three more
to Robert since I saw you

last.
- What's he like? I know, you told me, he's 18, but

what else?
- Well, I think he's really neat. I mean, he sounds

a bit lonely,
but I can relate to that. He doesn't like

school too much. He seems
sincere. I'd like to meet him

soon. - Did you write that in your last letter?
- No. Well,

let's see. I just mailed the
last one yesterday. I wrote

about my day and I asked him to send me his picture.
- What?

- Well, I just asked him to
send me a photograph of himself

so I could see what he looks like.
- Do you think that was

an okay thing to ask for?
- What do you mean? - I don't know.

It could sound freaky. Is
it that important? I mean,

- how he looks?
- Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is.

[eerie instrumental music]

[discordant instrumental music]

[wind blowing]

[instrumental music]

[trolley noises]

- Dear Tom, it's nighttime.
I'm sitting in my room writing

this and feeling sorry for
myself. I guess I'm digging

it. I've been thinking about
what you wrote in your last

letter about getting together on Saturday,
June 23rd. I'm

pretty scared to actually meet you,
scared that you might

not like me or that all the
feelings in me might not come

out. I want to love someone
but I've never gotten outside

my head about it. Besides,
I'm getting used to writing to

you. It's funny, you know,
more about me than anybody else

and we've never really
met. I don't understand you

too well. You wrote that you
have friends and that you've

had lovers, and yet you said
you're not at all that happy.

That blows my mind. Right now,
I wish there was someone

to hold on to. Anyone.
School is a continuing drag. I

hate P. E. class. I keep
wondering if anybody can tell I'm

gay just by looking at me.
I feel skinny and weird. In

the showers,
I freak out trying not to get an erection.

It's a bummer. I hope I'm
not boring you with all this,

but I'm lonely and I'm getting
tired of being lonely, which

is worse. I don't know. At school,
I always get 70 in English.

My teacher says,
I don't write enough on my assignments.

I can never think of what
to say. So I just sit there and

hand in whatever comes to
mind. But writing to you is different.

I can get some of it out on
paper at least. I guess it's

because you're not here in
my room looking at me. Your

friend, Robert. P.S. About Saturday,
I'm sorta freaked out.

But I'll meet you near the point
at Land's End by 10 o'clock.

I hope you'll be there.

[birds chirping and wind blowing]

[♪ Open Waters by Jack McMahon ♪]

There wasn't anybody listening,
but a white gull glistening

across the open sky. She called
away to open waters. There's

a place here without borders,
fix themselves upon demise.

And then, he's gone.

So long. Beyond the sun.

Oh, the night upon the ocean,
like a drink of gypsy potion

makes you leave the world
behind. Would fill the darkest

eyes with moonglow. It'll linger
and it won't go without your

dreams inside. On the sea,
the sleepy deep.

Now, there's a new day in
an hour. We might fill our fists

with flowers when we reach
that port of call. I've been

reading in these faces,
a filling in of spaces and the

cost so very small. For we are all.

One and all.

La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la

La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la

[wind blowing]

[♪ Gymnopédie No.1 by Erik Satie ♪]

[instrumental piano music]

[wind blowing]

[♪ Gymnopédie No.1 by Erik Satie ♪]

[wind blowing]

[playful instrumental music]

[romantic instrumental music]

[♪ Great Expectations by Jim O'Connor ♪]

Gonna take my song down out of the attic.
Gonna dust my shoes

off,
take them out of the closet. I'm gonna get

that old time magic, back.

Gonna spend some time
just the way that I ought to

Hope you like the song and
the smile that I brought you

These lazy days are driving me crazy now

Great expectations

I think I'm gonna get to
loving your city. If I never told

you, I think that you're pretty. Now,
could would take walk

down by the sea

Great expectations

Gonna take my song down out of the attic

Gotta dust my shoes off,
take them out of the closet

Gonna get that old time magic back

I'm gonna spend some
time just the way I ought to

Hope you like the song and
the smile that I brought you

These lazy days driving me crazy now

Great expectations

Gonna take my song out of
the attic. Gotta dust my shoes off

take them out of the closet.
Gonna get that old time

magic back

Great expectations
Great expectations

[playful instrumental music]