Chris & Don: A Love Story

This documentary covers a lot of ground: sexuality, aging, death, spirituality, art, literature, war, celebrity, alternative life styles, tragedy, mental health, drug use…and love. Pure and simple love.

Now I went to this movie reluctantly. The subject matter of the lives of the famous has worn—if not all of us—me down with the 24 hour news cycle. Christopher Isherwood's literary contributions were more a bridge than, say, the works of W.H. Auden which stand alone in any age. To unveil, posthumously, his private life examining the testament of his living lover, I was braced for something like testimony contesting Rock Hudson's estate.

But, I was very wrong.

Whether you can sit and hear the word "queer" and flinch or not (in any of its incantations either pejorative or defiance), it quickly doesn't matter. There is such a wealth of first hand material (photos, film footage, paintings, drawings, interviews) we don't have time to judge (as I was prepared to do) the age difference of the two subjects or their lifestyles.

Whatever the staying power of Isherwood's written words, his legacy as a gentle human being is forever preserved in this film. And whether or not Don Bachardy was "abused" by an older man or not, we're so dazzled—as the young Bachardy must have been—by the world he's invited into with Isherwood, we don't have time to sit in judgment of anyone. And that's a good thing, because at the end of the day, and at the end of this film—as at the end of these people's lives—it's for them to say whether their story was one of fulfilled love or something pathological. And what is revealed here by both the diaries of Christopher Isherwood and the loving testimony of his partner cannot be denied.

I had some quibbles with the choices made by the filmmakers, however. The use of animation seems like unnecessary padding. Only once (during a rough period in the relationship) is it well used, and the score is patchy. When jazz from the period is used it matches what we see on screen; but the original music seems generic. My biggest objection was using actors to stage some crucial events. There is such a wealth of archival footage that I began to doubt which was real and what was staged. I think using actors sells everyone--including the audience--short. What the principals have to say is so powerful, we didn't need what has become an almost obligatory trend in documentary films.

The interviews are all carefully chosen and never intrude into anything we'd call inappropriate or salacious. And the central character here, Don Bacarady, is allowed the freedom to say what he wants (most of it very funny) and he holds little back.

It's a great love story, and it's told at a time when our Country is considering whether or not it should sanction same sex marriage. Well, there's nothing here that would point towards not doing that. Yet no one on the screen has an agenda or an ax to grind. I think it was during an interview with Leslie Caron when she remembers something Isherwood says—he delays his death because "Don isn't ready"—that I realized this was no ordinary love story, it was a true love story. And it's heartbreaking and a mind-opener. Go see it.

This movie can easily be seen as a meditation. It is a kind of wonderful meditation on impermanence, the transient nature of youth, beauty and health, on the inevitability of loss and finally on the Triumph of Death. An art of losing and dealing with sorrow.

It is not often in our days that someone has the time and is being allowed a slow pace when talking to you as in this film. Especially not on very subtle and intimate matters. That is praiseworthy. Not often either do you see love treated spiritually. Not often do you see someone follow a life partner to the very gate of Death and past. Making drawings of the corpse, lovingly, without disgust or even crying. That is an impressive remaining within reality.

Highly recommendable.

I know nothing, before see this documentary, about this relation. But it was not so surprising remembering the novel A Single Man and its adaptation by Tom Ford.

A provocative love story between two men defined by 30 years age difference. This is the premise and it works very little because, scene by scene, in the embroidery of Don Bachardy memories, grace to wisdome of directors and words of guests, footage and the precise- profound inspired definition of levels of relation and biography of both, , the eccentric, presumed , romance , forbbiden, easy to blame, becomes only a beautiful portrait of friendship, education, decisions, crisis , noble decision in tough moment, affection, relation with its ordinary ingredients and image of a form, not so original, of happiness. And, I admitt, scene by scene, myself I was falling in love for Don Bachardy.

At the end, touching works not as the worst word to define this long term relation, impling education, affection, comradery and define of life together.

I stumbled upon this documentary on the Sundance Channel and the name Don Bachardy sounded familiar to me so I began watching. Then I realized that he was the artist who authored a book called "Stars In His Eyes" that dealt with many famous film personalities that posed for him. Each actor/actress had their portrait sketched and he wrote interesting details about the experience of setting up these meetings and how the sittings went.

So I watched, and discovered that he was Christopher Irsherwood's lover since he was a youth, meeting the writer when he was an unformed adolescent and quickly becoming his lifelong companion. It's a touching documentary, detailing the closeness of their relationship which began in the Hollywood of the 1950s at a time when discretion had to be uppermost in the minds of anyone contemplating a same sex relationship.

Bachardy was fascinated by the many well-known people that Irsherwood's associations included--everyone from Montgomery Clift to Julie Harris to Leslie Caron--and quickly became a part of that world when Irsherwood sponsored his education as an artist. Later, he would be doing portraits of these famous people and have his own opening at a gallery.

But the story deals mainly with the intensity of their close relationship over the years despite some difficulties due to their age difference. However, I found some of Bachardy's choices rather morbid, such as the endless fascination with sketching the dying partner during his final months, again and again.

Bachardy himself does much of the narration and ends by saying that he's reading Irsherwood's diary from the back toward the beginning because he can't wait to get to the part where they first meet.

Make of it what you will--it's all there for the viewer to ponder.

Portrait artist Don Bachardy, still active in his seventies, reflects on his 30-year love affair with British writer Christopher Isherwood, who was 30 years Bachardy's senior. Meeting in early-1950s Southern California, the bright-eyed, star-worshiping young man and the immigrated author-turned-screenwriter seemed to have little in common, yet their attraction and devotion to one another proved all their naysayers wrong. Although intriguing as both a microcosm of homosexuality in the '50s (and the ways in which it was greeted by the heterosexual community) as well as an enduring love story, this exquisite documentary also touches tenderly on age, on talent, on family and friends, and on reflections of the past from a still-sharp and brilliant mind. Bachardy is a colorful character, a sweet and sentimental fellow, and his thoughts are heightened visually by wonderful home movies of his journey with Isherwood, days both blissful and turbulent. Michael York narrates succinctly from the diaries Isherwood kept from 1939-1960, and several celebrities and biographers recount their experiences in knowing or researching the two men. This is as complete and satisfying a documented memoir as you're likely to see. It's also an extraordinarily moving testament to the human condition. ***1/2 from ****