What if a cure for AIDS was found? What if the scientist
who discovered it was homophobic enough to destroy it?
Sara is the smart, pretty co-worker of Peter, a renowned
young scientist with a 190 IQ. Peter recently engineered a drug that initially
converted 34 of 40 subjects from HIV-positive to HIV-negative in its first test
but 0 of 40 subsequently. Suspicious, Sara has plotted for Peter to come to her
home to meet Ken, her "fiancé".
Ken soon begins to press Peter on his study. Ken and Sara
propose that he intentionally altered some ingredients. Insulted by the
accusation, Peter prepares to leave until Ken physically blocks him from
exiting. It's revealed that Peter was only moved from Alzheimer's into HIV
research as a form of "sensitivity training" after assaulting a gay
colleague. Peter makes the assumption that her pretend "fiancé" Ken
is actually gay, as he somehow argues their points a little too well. Tensions
flare.
Peter finally blurts out something that sounds quite a bit like a confession...
Or is it? Ken retrieves something in a brown paper bag and draws it on Peter,
demanding the truth. Is he truly willing to shoot Peter for the answers, or is
the whole situation a big bluff? Is Ken, as Peter soon accuses, so desperate
for the cure because he himself is infected with HIV? In a world of
experimental science, did Peter even commit any wrongdoing, or might he be shot
simply for not approving of homosexuality?
Several years ago I was on a date -- a third date. Romantic songs on the radio, a couple of glasses of wine... A song came on the radio byMelissa Etheridge, which prompted from my date a fairly off-color remark about"those people".
"What people?" I asked.
"Fags," she said, simply.
Then began an extended, hateful rant about homosexuals,
minorities... you name it. Once she started, the floodgates had been
opened.
What I listened to for the next hour or two were some of the most
disturbing things I'd ever heard someone say.
Eventually I sent her out of my home and we never spoke
again, but it remained with me for weeks, like a cold I couldn't shake. I think
what bothered me most, perhaps even more so than the homophobia, racism and
hatred itself, was just how well-constructed and intricate her arguments were.
Over and over in my head, I replayed the things she had
said: her twisting of religious tenets, her justification of different forms of
persecution, the various rationalizations she had for her hate.
While I was
able to argue a number of points with her, I believe she may have out-debated
me, and likely left my home with few (if any at all) of her views having been
changed.
The problem was that she had made me so angry and
incredulous with the things she'd said that night that I was almost too shocked
and enraged to compose my thoughts properly. Indeed, if it was a man saying any
number of those things to me, it may well have come to blows.
What it did do was make me think.
I wanted to do a film where the audience would be put in
the same position, forced to think. Just knowing someone is wrong is not
enough. You have to know why.
I purposely did not give the protagonists of the
film all the right answers, all the perfect rebuttals, just as I purposely left
many questions left open-ended.
The Cure hopefully is a film that will challenge an audience
to strengthen their own beliefs & opinions, on their own, and hopefully to
inspire debate. I wanted a film that would work as a mind-grenade, to expose
the minds of the audience to thoughts and feelings that may indeed be quite
awful, which are unpleasant and ugly, but hopefully by taking the time to
consider them and respond to why they are wrong, will help us all to rebut and
extinguish them if & when they are forced upon us in real life.
