Shocking Revelations & Late Independence in the Stunning ‘Summer Solstice’ Review!

The genre of visually appealing, emotionally troubled individuals experiencing distress in idyllic, sunny settings – a tradition that stretches from Eric Rohmer to Nicole Holofcener – has found an engaging new contributor in Noah Schamus, a writer-director based in Brooklyn. This assertion is based on their first feature film, “Summer Solstice,” an adroitly constructed narrative of anxieties that unravel during a weekend in the countryside.

The film features Bobbi Salvör Menuez playing the role of Leo, a trans man and aspiring actor navigating the complexities of auditions and romantic relationships in the city. He is visited by Eleanor (Marianne Rendón), a good friend from college who is passing through New York. Despite the fact that Leo has an important callback during the following week for a potential role in a series, he agrees to accompany the persuasive and vibrant Eleanor for a few days to a deserted country house upstate.

Part of the trip’s appeal for Leo is as a diversion from his classmate and occasional fling, Alice (Monica Sanborn), who has been fending off his subtle advances for something more serious. (A scene where Leo waits an entire day for a response to a harmless flirtatious text, only to receive a “haha yup,” is wonderfully humorous and cringe-inducing.) However, Eleanor’s unrestrained dramatic flair becomes an emotional booby trap, layered with a theatrical and somewhat defensive arrogance about her life situation (she claims to be a photographer but doesn’t carry a camera with her) and a penchant for identifying perceived issues in Leo’s life. Over time, Leo realizes that his current identity – self-assured and future-oriented, desiring to be anything but performative – doesn’t align with the energy his old friend is looking for.

Unsurprisingly, this means the unspoken matters from what appears to be a one-sided friendship from the past are set to be revealed. They encounter Oliver (Mila Myles), another trans actor whom Leo once viewed as a rival, and Oliver’s bisexual friend Joe (Yaron Lotan). Pool time, fancy cheese, and wine foster a sense of camaraderie among the three individuals who identify as queer, leaving Eleanor, increasingly intoxicated, feeling like an isolated outsider in a new group. (“I wish I were queer,” she utters in a pitiful attempt to create a sense of belonging.)

Eleanor, a character with the potential to dominate a narrative about a friendship in crisis, is skillfully handled by the talented Rendón, whose range of facial expressions, line delivery, and physicality provide a potpourri of emotions. However, Schamus ensures that she doesn’t disrupt the harmony that was established early on by Menuez’s delightful and understated charm. Menuez, with his ginger hair and soft-spoken demeanor, is so instantly endearing that whenever Leo rehearses his lines for his audition, we hang on every syllable, searching for any clue that he might not land the role.

Therefore, when Eleanor persuades him to adopt a more aggressive approach to the role – a move rooted in the control she once exerted over him – it feels like a disaster unfolding in slow motion. Yet, we don’t lose confidence in the ability of these two to navigate through the complexities of gender dynamics, unravel their secrets and desires, and establish a new level of intimacy.

With Jack Davis’ subtle yet striking cinematography that blends the allure of the rural with the changing moods of the actors’ close-ups, and Margaux’s melodic guitar score seamlessly connecting the scenes, Schamus’ humorous and sensitive first film fully explores its tensions and delights for proper contemplation and appreciation of their transitory nature. Perhaps most significantly, “Summer Solstice” offers a sunlit comedy of manners to the emerging canon of trans visibility in film. Despite its modest ambitions and light-hearted approach, it holds promise that, in the vein of Rohmer, trans narratives will eventually encompass all seasons.