“Mutt”

[Spoiler alert: several scenes and topics of the movie “Mutt” described in some detail.]

Last night, I watched the movie “Mutt”, recommended to me by one of my genderqueer transmasc friends. 

My only qualm with this movie is that in two distinct moments it gives a clear but wrong message that getting on testosterone as GAHT for AFAB people can eventually serve as birth control. This is untrue: for AFAB persons who keep all their “female” organs, testosterone alone will not be sufficient, or reliable, or safe birth control — as any responsible physician will tell you!!! 

Other than that point, I think the movie is excellent and very true in showing what it means to be trans — and specifically transmasc — not only for the trans person but also for those close to & around them. 

There are several scenes in the movie that really touched me deeply, with which I could fully relate and have experienced myself. 

The scenes in which Feña has interactions with strangers and all the (mis)gendering issues come out are powerful and very relatable for me (I’m not sure what pronouns the transmasc main character, Feña, uses in the movie, so I’ll use he/they here). There’s the instance at the bank that is extremely frustrating especially in its daily reality. Feña is trying to cash a check but the name on the check (issue by his/their employer who uses his/their chosen name) doesn’t match the name on the legal/official ID so the teller says she cannot cash the check. Feña tries to explain the situation, saying clearly that he/they is a transmasc person — which in itself already requires a lot of courage and vulnerability. Despite Feña’s polite and transparent clarification, the teller not only still refuses to cash the check but even addresses Feña as “M’am”. Feña looks at the teller, sad and disappointed but also like this has happened so many times before, and just says, “‘M’am’, really? I’ve just told you I’m transgender”! Oh boy, how many times has this happened to me… it’s so infuriating! On the other hand, the scene at the pharmacy where Feña is addressed by the elderly man pharmacist as “Sir” and “young man”, and you can see the evident joy mixed with incredulity in Feña’s eyes, is also very real and relatable for me: those moments in which you can hardly believe that the person in front of you is actually seeing you as you feel (or at least close to how you feel, in my case, because unfortunately most people are just unable to see anything other that “men” and “women”, “Sir” or “M’am”, which is a whole other, infuriating, topic). 

I also really appreciate the direct manner in which it is made clear that transmen can like men and that sexual attraction is something different from (albeit at least partly related to) gender identity. One of the instances when this is made clear is in a difficult conversation between Feña and his/their father, whom they/he hasn’t seen in two years, since transitioning. So, of course, this is an extremely loaded encounter which for me has additional levels of potential trigger due to my own relationship with (& recent loss of) my father. But there’s a moment when exasperated Feña exclaims to their/his father, “Liking men doesn’t make me a woman”! Such a great truth! But also one of my own fears: what does it mean to those around me that I like (also) men? 

Another scene that I find extremely truthful and powerful and (for me) very relatable is with Feña’s cis & straight ex-boyfriend John and John’s young cis-female cousin who’s turning 22. Feña & John have just run into each other by chance at a club after a painful breakup and not having seen or heard from each other for a year and a half, since Feña’s transition. John’s cousin invites Feña to join them in sharing her “birthday coke” so they all go to the bathroom and John’s cousin (who apparently has been told that Feña is transmasc) asks Feña if they/he has a penis. So Feña replies, “First of all, you should never ask this. But no, I don’t have a penis”. The cis-woman cousin is relentless, though, and proceeds to ask why: “Don’t you want to be a real man?”. And here I find Feña’s reply wonderful (& to me extremely relatable): “You don’t need a penis to be a real man”!

But the interactions that maybe touched me the most deeply and tenderly are probably those between Feña and his/their cis straight ex-boyfriend John. The scene in the laundromat where they take shelter together after having got caught in a downpour of rain: here they are now, after clubbing, soaking wet to the bone, in the middle of the night in a laundromat. John offers Feña one of his dry shirts to change into. At first, John takes it for granted that Feña, who has had top-surgery, will just change & be momentarily bare-chested in front of him, but Feña asks him to turn around. John is confused and replies, “But I’ve seen you naked!” but Feña replies that this is different. So John turns around but then actually gets to see Feña bare-chested in the reflection of the washing-machine in front of him and when Feña realizes this, he/they is terribly upset. Once Feña is less upset, though, and facing John again, John gently asks if he “can see” and Feña says “Yes” and takes the shirt off again. Then John asks if it hurt (i.e. the surgery). And Feña’s brutally honest reply is so perfect — “yes, they [i.e. the breasts] were cut off and it was all a mess inside and I had tubes coming out of my body and couldn’t really move my arms for two months”. And then Feña lets John touch: touch the scars, the new nipples, the chest. And John asks if Feña can feel [the touch] now and Feña replies, “Yes”. This whole scene and this particular moment of it are, in my opinion, extremely sensual & erotic and one of the most tender of the whole movie. I could relate to this scene so much, so deeply: the fear of being seen naked, bare-chested by someone with whom there is, or has been, some form of deep physical intimacy; the vulnerability of letting someone see, and touch, those scars; the vulnerability but also the liberation in telling the whole brutal truth about top-surgery; that mix of fear and yearning for physical intimacy & touch; the sweetness of being seen and touched physically, intimately, once trust is established. 

Feña & John eventually have sex (it’s not portrayed in the movie but it’s clear that they have PIV intercourse). And while it troubles me that their sexual intimacy happens when they’re both still partly drunk and/or high, I find the explicit representation of John’s own internal demons or fears or questions about being sexually attracted to someone who identifies as a “man” or “guy” to be extremely truthful & real for so many “straight” cis-men. 

Finally, I also find one of the moments between Feña & John towards the end lovely and tender and very relatable. Feña asks John if he/they look different to him. And John replies something like, “Yes, but it’s still you, I still recognize you. The difference is mostly that you look more comfortable now, you’re not tense when you move”. And Feña smiles, like this answer makes sense, and adds, “People say I look happier now”. Gosh, how I understand and can relate to this conversation!

All in all, I find movies like this one extremely valuable and powerful and necessary.