August (2011): A Quiet, Messy, Beautiful Gay Drama About Second Chance
August (2011) – Love, Nostalgia & the One That Got Away
“August” (2011) is one of those films that looks small and quiet on the surface, but if you have ever had an ex walk back into your life at the worst possible moment, it will poke exactly where it hurts. You sit down expecting a simple reunion story and end up revisiting every unfinished conversation and every bad timing decision from your twenties.
Old love under a new heat
Troy comes back to Los Angeles from Barcelona with the classic excuse – he is just “visiting,” checking out possibilities, feeling a bit homesick. Of course. That is usually code for “I am nostalgic, confused, and ready to stir up trouble.” The city is in the middle of a brutal heatwave, fires are burning, the radio keeps talking about record temperatures, and right away you understand that this is not just about the weather. Everyone is overheated, restless and searching for air.
Jonathan, Troy’s ex, has moved on. At least that is what he tells himself. He has a boyfriend now, Raul, a shared apartment, immigration lawyers, birthday plans and a life that looks stable if you squint hard enough. And then Troy calls. One coffee leads to a visit to an old apartment, a beach day, a birthday party – and suddenly the past is not past at all, it is sitting right next to Jonathan, with a shaved head and a familiar smile.
The triangle that never quite balances
The dynamic between the three men is where the film really lives. Troy is charming, flaky, and full of romantic ideas about coming “back home.” Jonathan is torn in the most annoying way – he wants to be a good boyfriend and a responsible adult, but his body language around Troy gives him away in every scene. Raul is the one who can see the whole picture, and that makes his position both stronger and more painful.
What I like is that nobody here is turned into a villain. Raul is not the boring obstacle, Troy is not a simple homewrecker, Jonathan is not just a victim. They are all doing the best they can with the emotional tools they have, which unfortunately are pretty basic. One wants stability, one wants clarity, one wants to know he did not throw away the love of his life by getting on a plane five years ago. There is no clean way to resolve that.
Timing, regret and that stupid thing called hope
“August” is obsessed with timing. Characters keep circling around the same question – what if we had met later, what if we had stayed, what if we had gone. The film quietly suggests that sometimes you do not get a second chance, and even when you do, it does not look the way you imagined it in your head.
Troy wants to believe that coming back will magically fix everything that felt unfinished. Jonathan, deep down, wants proof that he was not crazy to fall for Troy in the first place. Raul wants the man he loves to choose him clearly, not out of guilt or paperwork or comfort. Everyone is negotiating with their own memories, and you can feel how seductive nostalgia is – soft, warm and completely unreliable.
By the time the birthday party comes around, the triangle is stretched to its limit. There are stolen glances, awkward conversations, too much alcohol and that one moment when you can almost see a different life opening in front of them. Almost. The film never pushes it into melodrama. It stays in that cruel but honest zone where you realise that love is not always enough, and that people can hurt each other without being monsters.
Heat, apartments and the weight of small spaces
The setting does a lot of quiet work. Los Angeles is not presented as a shiny fantasy playground, but as a place of cramped apartments, smoky skies and endlessly long drives. The heatwave is more than background noise – everybody is sweating, opening windows, fighting with fans, talking about air conditioners. You can feel how hard it is to breathe, physically and emotionally.
The film spends time in small, intimate spaces – a café table, the brother’s house, Josh’s apartment in Venice, a cluttered kitchen, a section of beach that carries too many memories. These rooms have history. You feel that the walls remember the things that were said there years ago. When Troy and Jonathan return to the apartment where they used to meet, it is less a location and more a time capsule. The scene is simple, but the silence between them does most of the talking.
Performances and that uncomfortable realism
The performances match the script – low key but sharp. Murray Bartlett’s Troy has that mixture of confidence and inner panic that makes you understand why people fall for him and why they should probably know better. Daniel Dugan makes Jonathan feel completely real – he is not a tragic hero, he is a guy who is scared of making the wrong choice and ends up hurting people by trying to keep all options open. Raul’s mix of kindness, jealousy and exhaustion is painfully relatable to anyone who has ever watched their relationship threatened by a ghost from the past.
The film refuses big speeches and dramatic breakdowns. Most of the damage is done in half sentences, in texts that are not answered, in decisions like shaving a head to match someone else or skipping a party that obviously matters. If you are used to louder romantic dramas, this might feel “small,” but that quietness is exactly why it works. Real life usually does not come with background music and declarations in the rain – it comes with long looks across a crowded room while someone brings out the birthday cake.
Why “August” stays with you
In the end, “August” does not offer a satisfying fantasy. There is no perfect couple walking into the sunset. There is a choice, there is a plane ticket, there is the realisation that sometimes things broke in a way that cannot be glued back together without destroying something else. It is bittersweet, a little cruel, and strangely comforting if you have your own set of ghosts.
This is a film for anyone who ever thought “if only I went back, maybe this time it would work.” It quietly answers that question without preaching. Maybe it would, maybe it would not – but the price is never small, and the past is rarely as innocent as we like to remember it.
If you enjoy intimate gay dramas that care more about inner weather than outer spectacle, “August” is worth spending an evening with. Just be warned: you might find yourself thinking about your own version of Troy, and about the one summer you never quite got over.
