On a chilly winter Thursday in 1974, author Linda Rosenkrantz documented photographer Peter Hujar as he shared details of his life over a 24-hour stretch. While the intention was to ignite a larger artistic endeavor, that idea never materialized. However, it finds a fresh interpretation nearly 50 years later in Peter Hujar’s Day (2025), directed by Ira Sachs. Featuring Ben Whishaw and Rebecca Hall, who faithfully recreate much of the audio recording’s dialogue, the film presents a series of vignettes set in Rosenkrantz’s eclectic ’70s apartment. Blending elements of an eccentric buddy film (who wouldn’t enjoy watching them dance to a Tennessee Jim record?) with a heartfelt exploration of Hujar’s artistic journey before achieving acclaim, Peter Hujar’s Day illustrates how conversations between two intellectually vibrant friends can transform the ordinary into the extraordinary.
Filmed languidly on 16mm Kodak, the narrative transitions smoothly from one area of Rosenkrantz’s home to another; whether on the sun-drenched balcony or in the cozy candlelit kitchen, the pair are thoughtfully arranged while the camera retains a static position. Their interactions feel authentic and relaxed, possibly thanks to Sachs’ unique approach as a director who opts out of rehearsals. From chats about Susan Sontag’s influence in the gallery world to their astonishment at the soaring price of cigarettes (56 cents!), viewers become engaged witnesses, with the sound of the tape recorder punctuating the varying segments of their conversation throughout the day.
Whishaw enchants even while shelling nuts, and Hall is fascinating while serving tea. However, without the contemplative dialogue between them, the film might dissolve into mere star-watching. Their on-screen chemistry reflects a bond forged through years of shared laughter, frustration, and relaxation. As Hujar’s conversational partner, Linda combines witty retorts with sincere inquiries; her expressions form a delicate canvas responding to Peter’s yearning. “I want my work to … stand alone without a single star in it,” he reveals softly. When her eyes well up towards the film’s conclusion, it raises questions about whether it stems from compassion for her friend’s social ambitions, her own unfulfilled creative dreams, or perhaps a mix of both.
Though Peter Hujar’s Day exhibits an obvious artistic flair, it steers clear of sentimentality and nostalgia. Hujar’s meager diet leads to discomfort after a few small sandwiches, underscoring his struggles. His work appears prominently in esteemed publications, often with those outlets finding loopholes to get around payment. The absence of hot water becomes a recurring trouble in the East Village. There are hints of a notorious suggestion from Allen Ginsberg—delivered either in jest or earnest—that Hujar should consider fellatio to gain favor within the gay literary scene.
Despite its rawness, the film eloquently highlights the significance of two endangered artistic traditions: the fluid medium of film and the enriching experience of an unhurried, in-person dialogue. Leaving the screening, I felt as if I’d spent a fulfilling day with two intricate, creative companions and found myself nostalgic for previous, uninterrupted conversations with another, devoid of digital interferences.
Previously, I have written about how Hujar’s portraits capture the “pedestrian peculiar, or the quotidian queer.” Sachs’ cinematic expression achieves similar results using his reflective visual style. We are invited to observe—and listen—with the captivating intensity reflective of Hujar’s subjects.
Peter Hujar’s Day (2025) is directed by Ira Sachs. Following its debut at the New York Film Festival, the film will open on November 7 at Film at Lincoln Center, along with a selection of Hujar’s portraits displayed at the Furman Gallery in the Walter Reade Theater (165 West 65th Street, Upper West Side, Manhattan).
