In the 1993 Oscar-winning courtroom drama Philadelphia sex plays no part in proceedings. Representations on screen reflected that closeting of the HIV+ experience. Those who were HIV+ and survived were stigmatised by the press, the wider public and within the queer community itself. Campillo, who wrote and directed BPM and drew from his experience in ACT UP, has said that when the disease first spread in the early 80s, he like many, was so scared by media reports that he did not have sex for the next ten years. Sex became tied up with death, something to hang your gay shame on. Media reporting was hysterical, the queer community spooked. When the AIDS crisis unfolded in the late 20th century, sex became the enemy. Instead, in two major scenes, one of which takes 12 minutes to unfold, the men have really hot, explicit sex. These tales tumble out as pillow talk, but Campillo does not skip the sex part.
Each comes to ACT UP with back stories: Nathan’s ex-boyfriend died from AIDS related illness Sean is HIV+ from his illicit first sexual experience. In between campaigning, the activists Nathan and Sean fall into bed together. The political drama is compelling, but it is the way in which Campillo puts sex into the story that proves most empowering. They argue over the politics and tactics that they then put into action: spraying big pharma offices with fake blood to gain column inches, interrupting school lessons to hand out sex education pamphlets, spreading their safe sex message at Paris Pride. Much of the drama plays out in the lecture theatre, where the activists share medical research that might save their lives. It’s an epic account of young advocacy, governmental negligence, corporate greed and social ignorance. Robin Campillo’s film centres on the Parisian outpost of ACT UP, the early 90s direct action AIDS activism group. This is especially true in 120 BPM, an AIDS drama that does more than depict the consequences of a sexual encounter.