‘The Test’ review: An eager-to-turn-pro bodybuilder struggles with issues of faith and his emerging sexuality in a nuanced character study

Like Elijah Bynum’s stunning entrance at the 2023 Sundance Film Festival, Ahlam magazinea film whose commercial life was derailed by domestic violence allegations against star Jonathan Majors, exam It is a tightly focused character study about a bodybuilder whose mental health sometimes seems to be hanging by a thread. But what makes Sam McConnell’s film so fascinating is the deeply personal nature of the drama, written by star Brock Yurich and clearly inspired by his own story. It explores the corrosive inner conflict of a young heavyweight pushed to turn professional as he struggles to reconcile his budding sexuality, his faith, and his need for independence from his stiflingly dependent mother.

Unlike Ahlam magazinemodest but satisfactory exam It avoids a steep descent into violent psychodrama that veers into hallucination Taxi driver lands and undermine the integrity of this film. McConnell’s direction and Jurich’s screenplay may be earnest at times, but the film’s emotional authenticity and depth of empathy make it a poignant character study — a meditation on hard-won queer identity that is sentimental and often sad but wise to avoid overblown tragedy.

Eddie Owens (Urich) lives in eastern Ohio with his uptight, boozy mother Joan (Tammy Blanchard), a sanctimonious singer who sings about the blood of the lamb while lovingly using Eddie’s spray at a local contest. Joan is more like an older sister than a mother; They fool around and make each other laugh. She’s also Eddie’s No. 1 cheerleader, manager, trainer, and nutritionist, although whether any of these responsibilities are the result of specialized training or simply Joan’s need to control her son is an open question.

To fund his bodybuilding endeavors, Eddie waits tables at a barbecue restaurant, where his co-worker Trig (Evan Hall) supplies him with performance-enhancing drugs. But Eddie also makes money through a secret life in his room at night, when he logs on to a site called “Midwest Muscle” and collects tips as a truck driver, demonstrating his competition-level posing skills naked before masturbating to the sound of shaking money.

After a disappointing third-place finish in what should have put him one step closer to the prestigious Ohio Classic, Eddie seeks help from experienced trainer Mike Reed (Mike Edward), a former bodybuilder. This leaves the volatile Joan feeling isolated and deeply resentful.

Mike drives Eddie hard in the gym and is upfront about his flaws, not to mention his view that Joan is holding her son back. Mike tells Eddie he’s taking the wrong medications, and starts a new regimen that includes insulin, which helps build muscle quickly but carries serious health risks. There are hints of Mike’s mysterious past in his failure to explain why more than one bodybuilder suddenly stopped training with him, including his son Cody (Drew Gitchie), who hasn’t spoken to him in two years.

Realizing that he may be stiff and lacking in coordination in the acting portion of competition events, Eddie takes it upon himself to begin basic ballet lessons with his ex-girlfriend Abby (Paloma Garcia Lee), who went to New York to pursue a dancing career and returned to Ohio for family reasons. This leads to renewed sexual sparks between them, although there are subtle hints that perhaps Eddie is just trying to prove something to himself.

This suspicion increases when Mike and Eddie confess their mutual desire with a kiss and begin communicating regularly. They keep it low-key, but word soon spreads. To make matters worse, Joan enters one of Eddie’s online sessions and seems to think she is helping her son by going to Pastor Greg (Matthew Morrison), the head of their local church, for guidance.

While this results in Eddie being told that he is no longer welcome in the church, Urich’s script keeps standard manifestations of homophobia to a minimum, instead making Eddie the main obstacle to his self-acceptance as a gay man. Abby is the least judgmental of the people in his circle, but Eddie pushes her away, compounding his isolation. When Cody reappears, Mike is distant as well.

McConnell gets solid performances from his actors, none more so than Urich, who clearly took a huge leap by assigning his story to someone else but pours himself into the role to a degree that inspires complete confidence. Eddie is a solid frame, but his fears are crippling, which makes Abby’s tender words ring true when she admits that she thinks of him as a “really scared little kid.”

There is a tenderness in the story’s example that masculinity and weakness are not mutually exclusive. It’s the rare extreme sports movie with a fragile heart.

Urich traces Eddie’s escalating loss of control and drive toward self-harm with raw emotion, and both writer and director take risks in a final act that can be construed as triumph but never quite glosses over the enormous physical and emotional cost. exam Fairly open; The hope that Eddie will feel comfortable with his identity and live more freely is diminished by persistent depression.

Through dramatic, brutal and desperate twists, this is an intelligently observed and compelling film about masculinity, about the collision of sexual desire and religious belief, and about muscle mass as armor – a shell to hide in. This last aspect is intensified by the shift in DP Ava Benjamin Shorr’s imagery, from the dull shadows of Eddie’s environment to the bright golden figure he projects onto the darkened stage.

One beautiful scene shows a competition action routine set to the song “The Swan” from Saint-Saëns Animal carnivalEddie incorporates the physical grace that Abby taught him at her family’s dance studio. Ultimately, grace is what the film gives its chaotic hero, without erasing his pain or resorting to clichés.