Ira Sachs, the director of the modern queer film *Passages*, makes his return with *Peter Hujar’s Day*, a two-character exploration set in 1970s New York that emphasizes atmosphere over plot. Nearly entirely confined within a single apartment throughout the span of a single day, this 76-minute feature unfolds at a meticulously slow rhythm, a decision that proves crucial to its effectiveness. Few filmmakers have so vividly evoked a bygone era without ever peering outside to capture the external reality.

This film draws inspiration from a recently uncovered transcript of an interview with openly gay New York photographer Peter Hujar (*Passages* lead Ben Whishaw), conducted by writer Linda Rosenkrantz (Rebecca Hall). Once presumed lost, this recording resurfaced in 2019 and was subsequently published by Rosenkrantz as a book sharing the same title. However, Sachs goes beyond merely recreating the interview; he constructs a cinematic piece that encapsulates an entire lifetime distilled from a single day’s conversation.

### What is *Peter Hujar’s Day* about?

At its essence, *Peter Hujar’s Day* presents a seemingly straightforward narrative, and therein lies its appeal. The story commences on a December morning in 1974, as the curious Rosenkrantz, a friend and contemporary of Hujar, prompts him to reminisce about the events of the previous day. As her two-spool tape recorder whirs — the sound reminiscent of a film projector — Hujar recounts his day with vivid, poetic detail. The pair meanders through his East Village apartment, transforming what may have appeared ordinary into something deeply resonant upon reflection.

This progression parallels Hujar’s photography. His black-and-white portraits, which once received minimal attention compared to peers like Andy Warhol, have now been acclaimed for their subtle richness and texture. As photographer Nan Goldin once noted, Hujar’s work captures an intimacy that transcends the surface, offering a rare insight into the physical and emotional essence of his subjects.

While Sachs doesn’t directly mimic Hujar’s photographic style, the film reflects its authentic dimensionality. The cinematography — frequently still, occasionally gliding gently through the space — fosters an ambiance of subdued fascination. Ben Whishaw’s portrayal of Hujar is equally precise, embodying a mix of freedom and spontaneity, whether he transitions between rooms or simply shifts restlessly on the couch.

Sachs excels at finding vitality in transitional moments, and *Peter Hujar’s Day* stands as one of his most visually and emotionally rich works. The film not only encapsulates the spirit of a particular time and place but also connects the past of the 1970s with the present day.

### *Peter Hujar’s Day* as a bridge between eras

The New York of the 1970s, marked by its rough edges, inherent risks, and creative dynamism, feels distinct from the city we inhabit today. During this era, the East Village served as a haven for emerging artists, contrasting sharply with the gentrified areas of today. Hujar’s casual references to his address and the venues of other creatives he visited the previous day serve as subtle acknowledgments of this transformation.

However, appreciating these nuances necessitates some understanding of New York’s current landscape, which may narrow the film’s audience. Yet, this specificity enhances the film’s experimental essence. It’s a work that “tells” rather than “shows,” though its dialogue is far from mere exposition. Rather, the film “shows” in a broader manner, unveiling Hujar’s feelings and views through his narratives, with Rosenkrantz acting as a mostly silent yet observant counterpart.

The film’s 16mm cinematography, executed by Alex Ashe, conjures the raw, textured visual style of the No Wave cinema movement, reminiscent of John Cassavetes. The slightly washed-out highlights and tactile flaws impart a DIY quality, as if it were a relic from the period it portrays. The sound design amplifies this impression, with ambient New York sounds — sirens, street conversations — seamlessly merging with the clinking of glasses and the rasp of chairs. The tape recorder, often featured in close-up, serves as both a visual and auditory anchor, constantly reminding viewers that this is a recreation of yesteryear. Sachs even incorporates meta elements like a clapperboard and glimpses of contemporary crew members, but these Brechtian touches do not undermine the film’s immersive authenticity.

Despite its self-aware construct, the characters never breach the fourth wall. They inhabit their world entirely, enabling the audience to experience historical figures through a modern perspective. This duality — the dynamic between past and present — emphasizes the film’s exploration of life, art, and memory.

### Humanizing history

So, what precisely constituted “Peter Hujar’s day”? As Hujar details, it was a blend of everyday frustrations — chasing payments