THE STORY – A closeted small-town Ohio bodybuilder clashes with his devoutly religious mother as he navigates his gay identity and the dark world of performance-enhancing drugs under a renowned coach.
THE CAST – Brock Yurich, Tammy Blanchard, Mike Edward, Paloma Garcia-Lee & Matthew Morrison
THE TEAM – Sam McConnell (Director) & Brock Yurich (Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 113 Minutes
Considering how incredibly homoerotic bodybuilding is, it’s slightly surprising how full the sport is of toxic heterosexual masculinity. Or, perhaps, that’s not as surprising as the fact that so many (male) bodybuilders vehemently deny their sport’s homoerotic undertones, to the point where it may seem like there are no gay male bodybuilders at all. Actor Brock Yurich knows this world well: The son of a bodybuilder who has taken up the sport himself, Yurich’s experiences as a queer man in this space have led to his screenplay for “Test”, in which he plays Eddie, a Midwestern aspiring bodybuilder living with his codependent alcoholic mother Joanne (Tammy Blanchard), who also helps coach and prep him for his bodybuilding shows. Joanne doesn’t know the inner workings of the bodybuilding world, though, and when well-respected coach Mike (Mike Edward) notices him backstage and gives him some tips, Eddie seeks him out to train with him. Naturally, Joanne doesn’t take this well, pushing Eddie away out of spite.
Yurich’s emotionally generous screenplay gives each character ample space to express their inner truths while staying locked into Eddie’s perspective, culminating in a stunning finale that marks a true moment of growth, and perhaps the truest expression of who Eddie is inside. Growing up in a religious household in a conservative community, Eddie has had certain ideas of manliness drilled into him since his youth, meaning that he’s never had the opportunity to become his fullest self. While the film never goes too deep into the characters’ pasts, there’s enough subtext given through dialogue and reactions to paint a reasonably full portrait of Eddie’s life, including a caring church community led by the conservative Pastor Gregg (Matthew Morrison), a high school girlfriend (Paloma Garcia-Lee) who left town to pursue her dreams as a ballerina in New York, and a side hustle as a cam model on a gay website. When he and Mike, estranged from his own son, start making eye contact, it’s hard to tell at first whether they’re doing so with paternal/filial love or lust. When they eventually kiss, it’s surprising not because it comes out of nowhere, but because Yurich and director Sam McConnell have so thoroughly established the boundaries of the world they inhabit. Their relationship instantly feels dangerous for a whole mess of reasons, and both Yurich and Edward flesh out their characters so much that their relationship feels like it takes up a larger amount of the film than it actually does.
While the film stays focused on Eddie and his journey, the other characters never feel short-changed. Mike’s characterization is surprisingly rich for his relatively small amount of screen time (given how provocative Mike and Eddie’s relationship is, it’s hard not to wish it received even more prominence), and Garcia-Lee does heartfelt work ensuring that Eddie’s ex, Abby, always feels like more than a device to dive into Eddie’s character. Her chemistry with Yurich feels completely natural, and the way she pushes Eddie to embrace his more feminine side through both ballet lessons and emotional intimacy is endearing. Blanchard has the most prominent supporting role, and her deeply personal connection to the character shines through. Joanne’s codependency feels deeply tied to her addictive nature, and Blanchard seizes on this, swinging between motherly over-attentiveness and ice-cold dismissal. As Eddie spends more and more time away from her and starts coming into his own, Joanne becomes more erratic and self-pitying. Blanchard delves deep, giving a performance that feels dangerous for both character and performer, fully giving herself over to Joanne’s gut-wrenching desperation for human connection.
That human connection provides the film with much of its vibrancy. Yurich and McConnell build a world where its inhabitants feel believably trapped. Even Abby, who made it out to the Big Apple, is pulled back to care for her mother and run her dance studio when she becomes ill. Eddie works as a waiter at a barbecue joint, and his coworkers seem to have no aspirations beyond their town. Simultaneously a reflection of the dire economic straits for young people and of the limited worldview they’ve been given, the film taps into a potent strain of ennui recognizable to anyone who grew up in a “small town”. Eddie knows he wants something more, but the only way he’s found to get it is bodybuilding. Even though he’s willing to go to great lengths to get his pro card, cutting out his mom and subjecting his body to all kinds of physical and chemical stress, he finds himself unable to answer when Mike asks him why he feels like he needs it. It could be his ticket out of there, a path toward greatness, or maybe the only thing he can think of wanting. After all, his church likes him and takes care of him, and even though his mother is clearly too involved in his life, she also cares for him deeply. Eddie is too deep into the world that has been built for him to know even who he really is inside, and watching him take the first tentative steps towards becoming that person and building his own world is heartrending, especially as the film piles on the melodrama in the last act.
Somewhat surprisingly, the film’s ending feels ambiguous. Eddie manages to eke out a major personal victory for himself, but the expression on Yurich’s face tells a more complicated story. Has everything he put himself through drained him so completely that his emotions are shot? Is he defiantly standing up for himself and holding back the “I told you so”-style victory speech? Or does he feel this victory is hollow, devoid of meaning because it hasn’t fundamentally changed the material circumstances of his life? It’s the cherry on top of Yurich’s charismatic, wholly endearing performance. As Eddie’s world collapses in on him, Yurich keeps showing more and more depth, fully investing himself in the screenplay’s dramatic turns without ever going over the top. His emotional openness and vulnerability are striking onscreen; we don’t often see men built like that express such feelings. McConnell’s stylish direction never pushes too hard on those notes, recognizing the simple power of Yurich’s performance. “Test” is quite a remarkable debut for Yurich as a writer, but even if this ends up being the only thing he has to say, his performance proves that he deserves a long career as an actor.
