I Don’t Know Who You Are, the first feature film from M. H. Murray, does for access to PEP what Never Rarely Sometimes Always did for abortion access.
Never miss a great film again. Get exclusive content and hidden-gem recommendations you won’t find on the website.
Click here to sign up for the Seventh Row Newsletter.
The first thing I did after watching I Don’t Know Who You Are was google how to access PEP (post-exposure prophylaxis for HIV) in Toronto. I didn’t want to believe that the stressful horrors Benjamin (Mark Clennon, in a star-making first feature film role) faced in search of PEP after a potential HIV exposure from sexual assault was a likely outcome. It’s a sign of a compelling social issue drama that I invested so much in the character’s struggles against a hostile healthcare system. Although things technically should go more smoothly than they do for Benjamin, based on current regulations in Ontario and clinics in Toronto, I fully believe what he goes through is possible. It’s not a worst-case scenario but far from the best-case scenario.
M. H. Murray’s directorial debut, I Don’t Know Who You Are, does for PEP what Never Rarely Sometimes Always did for abortion access and Test Pattern for rape kit access. It’s a character drama that exposes a systemic healthcare access failure. Benjamin gets to the ER easily enough, thanks to his perceptive and pushy best friend Ariel (a terrific Nat Manuel who elevates a walking plot device). There, they offer him a prescription and his free dose of PEP for free.
A PEP prescription is not guaranteed
Unfortunately, getting a prescription for PEP is not guaranteed in Toronto or Canada, even though Canadian guidelines recommend it for low-risk exposure. Most ERs should stock PEP and offer at least one free dose. But not all ERs are highly familiar with treating HIV and exposures to it. Not all doctors know they should prescribe PEP for non-occupational exposures. We also still live in a world where physicians can make a moral judgment preventing you from getting essential healthcare. Homophobia is quieter now, but it isn’t gone.
Getting the prescription is only half the battle. The medication costs about $900. Provincial health insurance doesn’t always cover it (more on this later). To be effective, you must take PEP within 24-72 hours of exposure. It causes severe nausea, so there’s a strong chance you’ll vomit it up. Those first doses need to stay down for it to work. Some federal and provincial funding programs exist. Knowing how to access them and being able to do so within that 72-hour window is another issue — one the film doesn’t address.
Although Benjamin’s ER doc is kind and sympathetic, prescribing the medication without hesitation, she doesn’t warn him about the costs. She doesn’t inform him that Ontario’s healthcare plan will cover PEP for sexual assault victims. (Ontario doesn’t cover it for the result of consensual exposures, like a broken condom, because we’re still a puritanical society. Some provinces are more forward-thinking and will cover it.). When the ER doc asks Benjamin if he wants to report the assault, she doesn’t inform him of the potential consequences of not reporting. He only finds all of this out at the pharmacy. He doesn’t have the cash, and he doesn’t have anyone to help him navigate the system.
M. H. Murray sets I Don’t Know Who You Are over a single weekend to ratchet up tension
Set over a single weekend, I Don’t Know Who You Are follows Benjamin in the events leading up to the assault, establishing his life and milieu. It follows him as he calls on every possible favour he can to get the money together to pay for his prescription. That includes his ex (Kevin A. Courtney), music lesson clients, and a former close friend (the always excellent Deragh Campbell) he lost touch with well before she married her racist husband. It’s a film that’s as interested in Benjamin’s character and complicated relationships as it is in the systemic failures. This puts it a notch above Never Rarely. But it also manufactures drama by having the characters repeatedly behave in thoughtless ways. It has first screenplay-itis.
The limited timeframe of the film (and to get the drug) ratchets up the tension. Sometimes, this is realistic, but it also feels like a screenwriting convenience. Best practices in Toronto are for ERs to give out two doses of PEP, which would buy Benjamin an extra 24 hours to find the cash after vomiting his first dose. In Vancouver, some ‘starter packs’ offer five doses. Not all hospitals in the country even stock PEP.
Summing up a life
The 72-hour timeline also means that Murray has to sum up Benjamin’s life in so many hours, arranging encounters with key players in his life. Murray writes just a few too many Important Meetings that it strains believability, a common problem for limited timeline films. (Films like Oslo, August 31st are the rare exception by avoiding giving us every important character. Co-writer Eskil Vogt discusses this choice in our forthcoming book Existential Detours.) It’s a minor quibble for most of the film until its final act, when characters become walking plot devices and silly choices get made because it’s convenient to the plot. Considering how enlightened Ariel is about the need to go to the ER to get PEP, it’s surprising that she doesn’t know about the cost issue or how to navigate specific services to help queer people in this situation in Toronto.
Benjamin’s pride is nearly his downfall in M. H. Murray’s I Don’t Know Who You Are
Benjamin is a natty dresser, signalling his pride in his appearance (physical and otherwise). That pride is a believable obstacle that almost prevents him from getting the help he needs to get PEP. Since procuring funds for the drugs requires a bit of emotional bloodletting for Benjamin, the film comes just shy of suggesting that getting nonconsensually potentially exposed to HIV might be just what Benjamin needs to kickstart repairing his relationships. By contrast, I appreciate that no character in the film shames Benjamin for his potential exposure. The film also introduces us to an HIV-positive character living with HIV whose status is the least important fact about him. Murray effectively contrasts the mad dash to get PEP with the fact that getting HIV isn’t the end of the world anymore.
The production design throughout the film is great, especially how it contrasts Benjamin’s solitary home with his shitty ex-boyfriend’s bigger and less welcoming loft. The film opens with Benjamin starting the day with coffee and a Bessie Smith record inside an apartment with dark walls, art, and plenty of plants. This is all crucial work to establish Benjamin’s life. He’s a former touring musician who now teaches music lessons. His saxophone is his prized possession, which may be the only way to finance PEP. (But that’s only because no one tells him about his other options!!). He’s house proud — another thoughtful way of showing us how his pride might hurt him in his current situation.
An ambitious first feature
If I Don’t Know Who You Are doesn’t get everything right, it’s a hugely ambitious first feature. Murray wears his influences on his sleeve, Kieslowski chief among them. He handles the sexual assault scene without major issues, avoiding graphic violence and focusing on Benjamin’s hazy reaction. Even films about sexual assault still struggle with how to depict it without contributing to the violence. However, Murray underplays Benjamin’s reaction to this trauma because there are too many other plot points to take care of. The assault often feels like a plot device to enshrine Benjamin as a member of the Deserving Poor and the Good Queer. He wants a relationship rather than casual hookups, cares for his family financially, and his HIV exposure is through no fault of his own.
Although HIV stories are becoming increasingly common, it’s still rare to see one from a Canadian context, especially a fictional one. I love that the film is unabashedly set in Toronto, featuring streetcars and their screeches. I’m not aware of any other fiction film that deals so precisely with the actual process of getting PEP. The excellent French film Theo and Hugo depicted a casual sexual encounter cut short by a possible exposure and a trip to the hospital. Still, the details of the medical treatment weren’t the film’s focus. Despite its flaws, I admired and enjoyed I Don’t Know Who You Are and think it’s essential viewing because it deals with HIV exposure without losing sight of character.
Inventing obstacles rather than dealing with the existing ones
I’m disappointed the film invents many obstacles for the upstanding Benjamin rather than addressing the often messier reality. Condoms break. Responsible people can still consensually end up exposed to HIV. Irresponsible people still deserve protection from HIV, which is part of why Toronto has piloted the PEP-in-pocket program. Especially since Murray spends little time addressing the assault, excising it would have left more than enough drama for an effective story fueling righteous indignation with our healthcare system without an assault.
To find out more about HIV Access issues in Canada, please visit catie.ca. Many thanks to their team for helping me research this article.
Editor’s Note: This review was originally published in capsule form during the 2023 Toronto International Film Festival. It was published on September 7, 2023. For the film’s Canadian release, it has been updated to the full review.
Related reading/listening to M. H. Murray’s I Don’t Know Who You Are
More on HIV/AIDS stories: Listen to our podcast on AIDS on screen and Angels in America.
Films like I Don’t Know Who You Are: Never Rarely Sometimes Always and Test Pattern both have a large procedural element about, respectively, the challenges of accessing abortion and rape kits.
More from TIFF 2023: Read all of our TIFF 2023 coverage.
