Short Film "Word Is Bond" Misses Its Mark

First-time writer and director Alex Mastoon made her debut with the short “Word is Bond” this Sunday at Outfest Fusion, a film festival that promotes films and shorts made by queer people of color. “Word is Bond” is a narrative that explores what it is like to be a closeted gay rapper trying to make it big in the ‘90s. However, that is a bit of a generous explanation of the short.

“Word is Bond” is exactly what one would expect to see from a story written by a person about an experience that is entirely not her own: cliché at best and stereotypical at worst. Let me explain:

The short opens with four young boys riding their bicycles through the rundown streets of an unknown city, potentially meant to be Los Angeles. The boys then arrive at a house where a man holding a dog on a chain leash is standing. All of the boys, except one, the protagonist Tracey, inexplicably bark at the dog. The camera pans to the boy who refuses to bark with the others; he has a pained look on his face and leaves on his bicycle without saying anything to the others. Clearly, this is a tool meant to demonstrate that Tracey is queer. Scenes of a man in a kitchen with two women flash; the purpose of this filler is unclear, we never learn who the man or the women are or what they have to do with the story. We skip abruptly to the future, where the sensitive boy from the past is dancing to some terrible bubble gum pop song alone in his bedroom. Another clue that he is gay, obviously. He hears a knock on his door and quickly throws down his CD player. His brother enters the room and they banter for a minute about East coast rap, then his brother finds a set of photos of a shirtless guy on the floor next to his brother’s bed. Gay slurs ensue, but this confrontation is interrupted by the rest of their crew walking into the room. The group raps together in the room, throwing around more gay slurs and propositions about Tracey being gay. The boys then walk together to a yard where cool ‘90s rap battles occur, and Tracey steps up to do a freestyle of his own. A guy from the watching crowd moves closer and eyes Tracey in an impressed and allured way. The brother realizes what the look means, and though Tracey has no reaction to this man whatsoever, the brother leaves in anger. The end.

Look, I was skeptical when Alex Mastoon, a cisgender, heterosexual, white woman stood in front of the crowd to introduce her short. Mastoon stepped in front of an audience of primarily queer people of color with her husband and two actors from the short and told us that the story she wrote had been one she dreamed of telling since she was a young child. She spoke about how much hip hop meant to her growing up and how she stood before us all as an ally to the LGBTQ community. G. Lane Hillman, who plays the protagonist, Tracey, took the mic and spoke about how he accepted the role of a closeted gay rapper despite being straight and how this film touched on homophobia in the black community, which is rarely talked about. Dominique Willingham, who plays Obi, spoke next, handing his drink to the director with a swift, but meaningful “could you hold this for a second?” He spoke animatedly to a crowd of his peers and threw out his Instagram handle. Then, in an awkward moment as they were all leaving the stage, a producer for the short grabbed the mic and gave his thanks to Outfest for having them there and introduced himself as Alex’s husband. This entire interaction was strange and felt out of place.

Here are questions that I have following this event: Why was it a cisgender, heterosexual, white woman’s childhood dream to tell a story about a closeted gay rapper in the ‘90s? Why choose a straight man to play a gay character when so many queer people in film are advocating that actual queer people play queer characters? And then why screen it at a queer movie festival that champions people of color in queer storytelling, queer actors, and queer crews in filmmaking?

I felt that “Word is Bond” missed the mark. It was a shallow and unoriginal insight into an issue that is still relevant today. If the point was to illustrate a snapshot of homophobia in the rap community, it lacked a point, substance, and clear direction. The story left the audience with no conclusion or resolution to any issues presented. Instead, “Word is Bond” served to illustrate how a closeted man could face persecution and stereotyping in the rap community with no conversation as to how to overcome these issues personally or as a community. Ultimately, “Word is Bond” was unsatisfying, misguided, and seemed out of place at Outfest Fusion.