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Even if
you’d never heard his name before, you might
think you knew him. Something about the
slightly petulant, pouting face, and the
arresting blue eyes, so unwavering in their
gaze, daring you to follow, anywhere he led
in those skintight white pants, or the black
leather ones with the fringed boots, his
curtain of blond hair catching the breeze
beneath a faded cowboy hat. Something so
familiar about him, as if he were a
repository of every gay fantasy, and
especially that prodigious crotch. Something
almost alarming about that member packed in
so tight, outlining everything from meat to
potatoes. And you might swear that you’d
seen him leaning at the Meatrack the other
evening, or wandering the piers the night
before. And also cruising the park and the
beach and late at night down on Folsom
Street. And you’d be right in thinking you
knew him, because that boyman was Peter
Berlin. So known as to be notorious, so very
well-known, he was recognized by his walk,
that cocky strut, as well as the blatant
sexuality of his clothing, and the complete
absence of shame, none whatsoever about all
that he was and represented to gay men.
That Man: Peter Berlin, Jim Tushinski’s
poignant documentary, lets you see the man
behind the icon, the story behind the myth.
And over the course of the film’s eighty
minutes, it becomes increasingly apparent
how far-reaching Peter Berlin’s influence
has been in matters of fashion and fantasy.
Still comfortable with his persona at
sixty-three, Berlin exudes a kind of relaxed
sexuality, a man in touch with his desires,
who happens to have made his desires his
art, and his art his life. There are
certainly worse ways to live the years given
you on this planet and Berlin is a testament
to the self-confidence that can come from
learning early on who you are and what you
need. In an almost elegiac reverie, Berlin
recounts one of his first nights cruising in
a German forest, not long after realizing
that his family could not provide him with
that he most needed to become the person he
knew himself to be, and his detailed
remembrance of that night and the smell of
the linden flowers and his awareness of the
freedom which was happening all around him
serve to remind all of us of the very great
freedom which comes from honoring one’s
self.
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