Club Kid is the Most Earnest Film of the Year

*The following review contains light spoilers for Club Kid.*

Well folks, it seems the movie of the year is Uptown Girls for people with 9+ hours of daily screentime who know what BiLatinMen.com is. 

Coming off of his 2023 leading role as an exaggerated version of himself in Sebastian Silva’s Rotting in the Sun, and more recently his appearances in Rachel Sennott’s I Love LA with a quick detour to publicly feud with the Heated Rivalry guys, Jordan Firstman makes his directorial debut with A24’s Club Kid. Additionally, Firstman writes and stars as the main character, Peter Green, a gay thirty-something New Yorker stuck in the same destructive party habits of a less washed-up twenty-something. With his life already in shambles, Peter finds out he has a biological son, a physical manifestation of his maladaptive habits as he doesn’t even remember allegedly having sex with a woman in his life. What results is a tender portrait of queer chosen family that never feels fraudulent in its earnestness, and is a genuinely impressive and tearjerking debut.

The ten-year-old son, Arlo, is played by British actor Reggie Absolom with an incredibly endearing blend of Gen Alpha disaffection and understated sincerity. A child who personally knows Shygirl and listens to Massive Attack and Cocteau Twins extensively, Arlo effortlessly worms his way into Peter’s heart. Essentially having no choice but to care for the child who was dumped at his door, Peter recognizes he has a lot of growing up to do à la Brittany Murphy in Uptown Girls (obvious comparisons are made to Adam Sandler in Big Daddy, but Firstman plays it much more earnestly). He attempts to forgo his “club kid” persona by distancing himself from the party scene he’s participated in for over a decade, to varying degrees of success. He’s not a perfect parent by any means, but his genuine attempt to give the child a halfway decent life shines through in moments like allowing Arlo to DJ at the early slot at the club (where he’s the first 10-year-old in the world to know Ninajirachi) and purchasing him a $300 Elliott Smith vinyl. 

Anyone who has been on Twitter dot com in the last decade will find themselves represented here — with references to memes that require years of screen time and layers of context, like the infamous Gina Rodriguez “mama let’s research” tweet, Nicki Minaj’s beef with Miley Cyrus at the 2015 VMAs, and a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it feature of Heather Gay and Angie Kastanevas in a scene from The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City. Even in media Firstman himself has starred in like I Love LA and other projects from the so-called internet generation don’t have quite the understanding of queer netizens and how meme culture is proliferated in both virtual and physical gay spaces. Your most online gay friend is going to laugh out loud at some of the deep-cut references made. The internet is treated as both a tool for liberation and destruction, as in the same breath as making niche references Peter and his queer friend group discuss how they can quickly and easily “cancel” their former peer Sophie (played underwhelmingly by Cara Delevigne) on Twitter.

Make no mistake, though—this is not an entirely internet brainrot project devoid of gravitas. Firstman wears his influences and interests on his sleeve. Peter makes a desperate plea to Arlo’s social worker (and later Peter’s romantic interest) Oscar, played by Diego Calva, to watch Mysterious Skin, telling him he’s “terrible at being a gay guy” for being completely unaware of Gregg Araki’s oeuvre. Club Kid is not just a coincidental title as he pays tribute to NYC Club Kid culture through a variety of costuming, hard drugs, and even a cameo from Amanda Lepore. The soundtrack featuring Kelela, Slayyyter, and a father-son piano rendition of “Thoroughfare” by Ethel Cain will certainly please your local playlist curator. 

While Firstman and Calva are heavyweights in the cast, many of the most powerful moments in the film come from its breakout stars. Saturn Risin9 plays Saffron, a Black trans DJ who Arlo quickly takes an interest in because of her Pioneer DJ equipment. It is not lost that the bonding moments between Saffron and Arlo feel particularly radical during this time of manufactured fear of queer and trans people being in proximity to children, and with increasing anti-LGBT legislation across the US. Peter’s queer friend group immediately takes in Arlo as their own, rounded out by hilarious yet lived-in performances from Alaska Riley, Miss Benny, and Nigil Whyte. Two of the funniest performances in the 120-minute runtime come firstly from Kirby Howell-Baptiste who makes the most of her short appearance with clever quips and a chaotic presence guaranteed to raise the blood pressure of those around her. She plays Edison, the temporary guardian of Arlo who made a promise to his late mother that she would put the child in Peter’s care. Secondly, Azerbaijani actor Eldar Isgandarov plays the heartwarmingly delusional roommate Nicky that Peter can’t find it in his heart to kick out. When Peter lightly suggests his roommate get a job, Nicky rebuts that he can only do his dream job, responding “Lowkey, a philosopher” when pried on what that would be.

The film’s conclusion might leave much to be desired by some, with Peter’s desperate plea to the UK court to grant him custody over Arlo that feels reminiscent of a grand profession of love in a rom-com. However, Firstman’s surprisingly effective dramatic performance makes this denouement feel grounded rather than an Oscar-baity entreaty. Club Kid, and by extension Firstman, knows it’s not for everyone—and it’s completely fine with that.  

Firstman took a big swing in his first project, and successfully avoided many of the traps first-time filmmakers fall into. A worse version of this film would involve Peter immediately cleaning up his act once and for all in service of Arlo, and would ultimately feel like a cheese fest. The beauty is to be found in the mess and the dysfunction of this found family, so the sentimental moments never feel like audience manipulation. We’re here, we’re queer, and we really fucking love Arthur Russell.

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