Queen of Manhattan adds to this a side plot of a gay policeman, Carley (Jessie Metcalfe), trying to investigate the porn industry owned by Mickey (David Provel). Carley has a lover, Scott (Thomas Steven Varga), who is being nursed through terminal Aids disease in his apartment. Provel’s work on screen is a new level of “porn vermin” in his portrayal of the disputable Mickey, giving people a hard time because he owns it all, especially film director Phil (Shane West), who wants to try something different, thus triggering Vanessa’s career. It is a lovely moment with a production crane on the set.
“…evokes both nostalgia and nausea.”
Mignone refuses exploitation and titillation even in a story centred in the porn industry. The sexuality mixed with horror is not in what we see, but in how long we’re asked to sit with the consequences. Vanessa’s tenderness toward her broken friend is a moment not overplayed.
New York City of that time pulses in garbage with each sex shop and marquee, a cell in a diseased, glittering heart. The production design, from the damp stairwells to the glassy reflections of police sirens, evokes both nostalgia and nausea. Cinematographer Eric Zimmerman keeps the framing close, almost claustrophobic, with bursts of light and camera flashes, and neon reflections. Queen of Manhattan lingers like another New York story: All That Jazz. The picture is a bruised valentine to the city that made and nearly destroyed one Latino woman who rose from its mire and refuses to disappear.
"…refuses exploitation and titillation..."
