What a heartbreaking movie. Generally set in the 50s and maybe early 60s, there is nothing particularly heartbreaking about the movement of the queer characters and the way they talk around identities and desire. I don't even think the particular relationships between Julius and Henry or Muriel and Sandra were quite heartbreaking in themselves (it is a period piece, after all). It's the build-up to the conversation between Julius and Muriel when Muriel rejects Julius and then again, really devastatingly, when Muriel meets Henry at the bar without even realizing who he his. Not that Julius returns to Lee's empty house, just that moment in passing in the bar when Muriel meets Henry.

It's a heartbreaking movie when it's about queer friendship. Otherwise it is just a period piece retreading fraught relationships. For me, the heartbreaking-ness of the friendship or the quality of the friendship, struck me so much because of some of the feelings of my anxiety. My anxiety has partially been about...I don't know, some concern over relationships, intimate relationships, and feeling like that is missing or unachievable (neither are true, this is exaggerated by the anxiety). To see Julius and Muriel ineffably related to one another and then to see Muriel reject Julius at a penultimate moment...

And, I don't know, there's something about the queer bar itself and the meeting between Muriel and Henry at the queer bar. Was that place real? I think yes, of course, but also there was such an imaginary quality to it. Something fantastical about the characters retreating there, of the wall of notes like a crossroads or a map.