Lisbon love affair.

A fledgling film festival in Portugal wins enthusiastic gay and lesbian audiences and support from city hall

In O Fantasma, a dark and brooding first film by 34-year-old Portuguese director Joao Pedro Rodrigues, a young man (Ricardo Meneses) surrenders to his kinky same-sex desires, dressing head to foot in formfitting black latex and thus transforming himself into the phantom of the movie's title as he stalks the night streets of Lisbon in search of sexual prey.

In America the film's full-frontal frankness would probably earn it a restrictive NC-17 label, making it a target for opportunistic politicians. Not so in Portugal: Lisbon's city government not only lent its support to O Fantasma but also helped underwrite the fourth Lisbon Gay and Lesbian Film Festival, where the film made its local debut in September as the event's closing-night attraction.

"It would have been impossible to make this film without the support of the city of Lisbon," Rodrigues testifies. "And it's important to hold a festival like this in Portugal, where people don't have so many images of gay sexuality."

On the ever-expanding international gay film festival circuit, Lisbon's gay fest is a newcomer. The International Lesbian and Gay Association of Portugal, the city's oldest gay and lesbian organization, is only five years old itself, and it was just four years ago that at its behest, the enterprising Celso Junior, a Brazilian-born artist, improvised a retrospective of gay films by screening his personal videotape collection--marking the birth of the Lisbon film festival.

This year, as director of the burgeoning festival, Junior proudly presided over an ambitious three-week event that screened more than 45 films in three different theaters. The event earned "strong official support from the mayor of Lisbon, Joao Soares," Junior notes. Adds his associate, Nuno De la Jura, "Everyone here in Lisbon is very conscious of the value of freedom and has respect for civil rights."

For American filmmakers making their first visit to Lisbon, the enthusiasm of the young festival's eager audiences proved contagious.

"Portugal is one of the last European countries to [acknowledge] an openly gay society, and as a result the audiences just seemed to appreciate the films so much more," observes John Scagliotti, who presented his documentary After Stonewall. "It reminded me a little bit of a new gay bar in the rural countryside where everyone in town, whether they're wearing leather or drag, all show up."

Susan Muska, codirector of the documentary The Brandon Teena Story, which screened alongside its companion feature, Boys Don't Cry, adds, "We were warned there might not be too many questions after the film, but the Q&A went on for over an hour. There was a real consciousness about the subject of transsexualism."

And unlike with many filmfests where the filmmakers see only the inside of auditoriums, this festival's organizers were eager to show off their city, reserving plenty of time to explore its cobblestoned streets. Los Angeles director Harvey Marx--who has traveled with his newest feature, a warmhearted romantic comedy called Swallows, to festivals from Toronto to London to Turin, Italy--left saying, "Most of the time when you go to festivals, you are on your own. But the folks in Lisbon were terrific about taking care of us. The conversation wasn't just about film but about the country, its politics, and its history."

Adds Scagliotti: "As the Lisbon festival grows, it could definitely become a real presence on the gay festival circuit."

Find more information about Lisbon and the films mentioned in this article at www.advocate.com

Kilday also contributes regularly to Premiere and Salon.com.