“BPM (Beats per Minute)” is a defiantly messy film, portraying both the personal and political lives of the Paris ACT UP chapter in the early 1990s as they struggled to bring AIDS out of the shadows, by confronting the public and state with its devastation while providing help and community to victims. There’s a deeply earned feeling of authenticity to the film, drawn from the personal experiences with ACT UP of director Robin Campillo and co-writer Philippe Mangeot. That sense of “they were there” immediacy makes the film deeply personal, but it also allows the filmmakers to provide tremendously useful and widely applicable lessons on activism.
Activists are well known in cinema, as Hollywood never met an underdog story it didn’t like, but their stories are usually distorted beyond recognition to provide story elements like a moment of triumph and a heroic protagonist. These distortions may sometimes make for a more palatable narrative for audiences, but they do a disservice in obscuring how activism really works. The un-glamorous truth is that successful activism is more about groups than individuals, and that most activists will never have a moment of triumph, rather if they’re lucky their efforts might be recognized long after they’re gone. “BPM” both understands and teaches these lessons, highlighting the process of running ACT UP and the tough decisions that activism entails.
READ MORE: ‘120 Beats Per Minute’ Is An Urgent & Riveting AIDS Activism Drama [Cannes Review]
The opening of a good film can tell you a lot about it and “BPM” starts out with an unthinkably un-Hollywood beginning; with new members of ACT UP being initiated into the rules of procedure that govern their meetings. Usually in movies, rules are made to be broken, but the ACT UP members, many of them HIV-positive, recognize that time is short and adhering to the rules means being more productive. The rules are there to ensure that the goals of the group take precedence over any individual grievance – something totally logical to anyone who’s ever tried to smoothly run a meeting — but a group-first dynamic is surprisingly rare in the film world, which tends towards depictions of exceptional individuals. “BPM” is very frank about the fact that a successful group must encompass people who don’t like each other very much. The earnest sensibility of middle-aged mother Hélène is mocked by some of the acerbic gay men of the group and Sean clashes repeatedly in public with chapter leader Thibault, yet the group recognizes that their shared interest takes precedence over any individual disputes.
“BPM” is also extremely clear-eyed about the fundamental tension of activist tactics – how far is too far? Activists rarely have an obvious path forward; some degree of confrontation is necessary to be noticed, but going too far alienates the very people who need to be convinced. The ACT UP members negotiate this by rigorously avoiding real violence (laying flat in total non-resistance when police arrive) but by enacting symbolic violence, through throwing fake blood, that reminds the recipients of the life and death stakes of their fight. Even with these guidelines for the group, individuals frequently go too far in the moment, as in one scene where ACT UP makes a loud entrance into a mostly sympathetic crowd and palpably loses the crowd when two members impulsively handcuff the speaker onstage. That scene points to another truth about activism, which is that you’re rarely confronting groups that totally disagree with you, but usually groups that have overlapping but somewhat different agendas. In “BPM,” ACT UP clashes with other French groups that are supporting AIDS research and development with good intentions, but with far less urgency than needed. Far more complicated is the relationship between ACT UP and Melton Pharmaceuticals. Obviously the infected men need Melton to a degree, as it provides the drugs for treatment, but the lab is also using them as guinea pigs in trials without providing toxicity results and is accused of creating an artificial shortage of drugs. One of the first scenes shows ACT UP invading their offices and causing chaos with fake blood, and while those tactics infuriate the company, by the end, ACT UP wins the moral/publicity battle to the point that Melton representatives attend an ACT UP meeting, if begrudgingly.
In many ways, the question of “how far is too far” is one that has also stymied filmmakers trying to make films about these topics. Many American films about AIDS and homosexuality have attempted to appease a tentative mass audience by providing a very polite look at gay life and appending it to a familiar genre, like the courtroom drama in “Philadelphia,” or the political biopic in “Milk.” Those films shouldn’t be condemned for that; just like activist groups, socially conscious films have to negotiate how confrontational they want to be with their audience in order to persuade them. Yet it’s heartening to see how much further “BPM” can go than those past films. Whether because it’s French, or because it’s now 2017, “BPM” doesn’t suffer from any such insecurities and it proudly shows a holistic view of life for HIV victims, where moments of humor and sex coexist with tragedy, just like in real life.
“BPM” is an aesthetic achievement on many levels, but read about those somewhere else. In this time of political instability, when many are seeking to make their voices heard, “BPM” can be an exceptionally useful film, giving the audience a detailed and intelligent look at the messy work of changing hearts and minds.
