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(1) Jeffrey - Whether it be the self-consciously clever tone; the prevalence of gym clones; the show tunes; or the bad dance numbers, it just irks me. The only relatively funny part was the false-liberal society matron played by the woman who portrays Marianne on Cybill, and it is too brief and too easy.
(2) Rock Hudson's Home Movies - This also annoyed me, for different reasons. I was not surprised that Rock Hudson was gay - I don't remember ever not knowing that (and I also don't recall finding him remotely interesting as an actor or person). This take lines which are clearly not meant to be read as being queer (even given subtext, it pushes its point) and has a sniggering, mean-spirited tone. The far superior Celluloid Closet gives better examples of dialogue that has double meanings from his work and makes a more compelling case for 'hidden agendas' than this does.
(3) When Night Is Falling - I just don't know about this one, really. Perhaps it's because I'm not a woman, but I just didn't get it. It felt wrong, somehow - too Hollywoody - too 'and here's an IRONIC, FORESHADOWING LINE!' - too, ultimately, lacking in credibility. It looks nice, I'll grant...but it doesn't hold up...
(4) Philadelphia - I should out myself as heartless immediately, I guess. This film seemed to be consciously tear-jerking; obsessed with creating perfect icons instead of characters; too fast-paced in character development; too, ultimately, calculated. Even the opera scene, which was supposed to reveal Tom Hanks' character's relationship with and attitude towards impending death, fell flat for me. Denzel Washington's homophobia seemed both too cartoonish and too easily diffused. I didn't HATE this movie - I just found it static. (If it helps my stony image any, I cried a river during Torch Song Trilogy.)
(5) Longtime Companion - An early AIDS movie. It is about middle-class queers on Fire Island, with too much money and way too much detachment from reality, and how AIDS devastates their lives (again, very sad, I'm sure, but the film does not portray the sadness very effectively...). A mainstream film that is 'for' a group and allows little entry for others is a failure, and I did not know these characters (and did not want to). Its biggest failing is the post-death scene, where all the characters reunite with their favourite, living fag-hag, since:
(a) WHOSE HEAVEN IS THIS? Presumably not hers. (Because, much as I love my friends, an eternity of cooking and cleaning for them would be hell to all of us...).
(b) One of the few rules of writing I respect is the borders of a story-type. Dragons do not show up in police dramas, for example, and, similarly, surreal sentiment added to a 'docu-drama' wounds the mood and credibility of the picture fatally.
In Britain, this film caused quite a stir, as the age of consent set by law was (then) eighteen for queers, and the main characters who have a relationship herein are both sixteen.
It is surprising there was such a fuss, as it is a warm, cuddly, family-values-affirming picture in its own way.
The basic plot deals with Jamie, a boy who lives with his mother (who dreams of owning her own pub) in a depressing London Council flat building. Steve lives a few doors down with his abusive father and brother.
Jamie and his mother take Steve in one night to protect him, and the lads share a bed. Jamie rubs some ointments into Steve's bruised and cut back, and a tender loving sexual encounter gradually develops while, in the next room, the mother watches "The Sound of Music". "You Are Sixteen" - I will never hear that piece the same way again...
Steve does have some second thoughts, and Jamie's mother does find out about her son's sexuality dramatically, while various other characters drift in and out - but the movie is basically about the relationship between these two boys with very little outside influence (their few contacts with mainstream gay culture are alienating - I can relate...).
The ending is beautiful, sentimental and perhaps too good to be true, but: (a) I am getting old and mush and (b) it is nice, as a het friend of mine said, to see a queer movie where no-one gets murdered or dies of AIDS.
In short, a nice bit of sunshine and entertainment...and even the ol' Noise Queen can
use a bit of both in his life...
The People Vs. Larry Flynt (US, 1997, directed by Milos Forman, with Woody
Harrelson (Larry Flynt); Courtney Love(Althea Flynt))
Quite a few reviews of this movie begin with words to the effect that, though the critic finds both Flunt and Hustler offensive, s/he defends his right to free speech. In fact, in the foreword to Larry Flynt's autobiography, even the director of this movie says: "I must admit that I have never bought Hustler magazine, and I believe I never will."
Nor have I - nor do I intend to. Goodness - why would I? I was, of course, familiar with its reputation and various legal suits.
I like to think I approached this video with a relatively open mind (as someone who would probably draw the line at snuff).
The first thing I noticed about this movie was the inside jokes. At the beginning there is a cheap crack about a stripper named Alanis from Ottawa (pause) Kansas. Ha, ha... Larry Flynt's brother is played by Woody's brother. The first judge Flynt faces in Cincinatti is played by Flynt. Cute...
Another notable feature is the attempt at class analysis, no matter how contradictory. Early on, Flynt says in reference to Playboy's upscale, sophisticated image: "If you don't make $20 000 a year, you don't jerk off?" Are we to conclude that Flynt's magazine would be more in touch with the working class? I don't think so.
Later on, when he is making a mockery of the court system, he says: "I've got money, and that gives me the power to shake up the system." No - that makes you part of the system - and, while that hardly precludes struggle with the ruling structures, it is something to bear in mind.
The American propaganda also gets a bit thick in this production. I should think the selective prosecution, religious/right-wing ties and ugly police tactics would tend to indict the system, but the film puts forth "America is #1" messages with blind faith.
As to the high praise of Courtney Love? She is vivid - she steals scenes - she is pure energy or lethargy as needed - but she is no Bette Davis yet. Promise is shown...
It is also an outrageously sexy picture (even a dedicated monogamist like
On balance, the best stuff in the picture is the courtroom drama. As Betty in Archie Comics once said: "How much do you charge for contempt of this court - 'cause I've got a lot of it."
I also find myself wondering whether Ruth Carter Stapleton, the woman who converted Flynt to Christianity shortly before he was shot and paralyzed, was really as charming and fun as the individual playing her.
Not bad entertainment, and worth renting - but not a classic of our times.
I Shot Andy Warhol (US, 1997, 104 minutes, directed by Mary Harron,
written by Mary Harron and Daniel Hinahan, with Lili Taylor(Valerie
Solanas); Jared Harris(Andy Warhol))
As it happens, Lou Reed did not want anything to do with the Velvets in this movie, because he argued that it would be as though, oh, someone made a movie called 'I Shot Arne Ledet' (my boyfriend) and asked to use one of my songs in it.
As Mary Harron is a charter member of the VU appreciation society, this had to sting. However, it is wrong to try and read this as a "Yay! I shot Andy Warhol - it was a good thing!" production - though the reverse does not work either.
As a result, there is a scene in the Factory where an unidentified band is seen playing, clearly in a Velvets style. As it happens, the band is Yo La Tengo, and Georgia Hubley makes a fabulous Maureen Tucker.
But what about the movie, you say? It's well-organized; has some good mock-documentary elements; some Warholian qualities; campy moments; and a very patient pacing except during manic episodes in Valerie's rapidly disintegrating life leading up to the shooting.
The movie concerns Valerie Solanas, a writer/prostitute/dyke/self-styled revolutionary and how she gradually got involved with Andy Warhol and other vague/manipulative men from 1966-68, culminating in her shotting Warhol to stop him from controlling her life, as she saw it..
Though the script does not shy away from depicting the more troubled and irrational moments of her life (it can be hard to be rational in a world that rarely is, of course), Valerie tends to come off as witty, smart, mostly level-headed and fairly practical.
Warhol initially comes off as the passive, shy creature we've been fed, but the portrayal becomes complex. Gradually, a malevolence grows behind the blank, rather old and simultaneously infantile persona. No-one can be that empty and not have to fill it with something - such as others' lives and vitality. We begin to see the vampire behind the voyeur (not for nothing was he called 'Drella', a cross of Dracula and Cinderella).
Some parts of the movie strike me as contentious. While Candy Darling (Stephen Dorff) may have ben that pathetic, most accounts suggest a stronger persona. I'm also not sure what the point of having Valerie consort with and even fuck an unnamed male revolutionary was, except to perhaps get a het scene in and find an excuse to blare "Kick Out the Jams" by the MC5.
However, on the whole, it seems an attempt to fairly portray a woman who may have been touched by 'idiot madness' (Lou Reed), but may also have been 'beginning to see the light' (him again).
If you were interested in knowing more about Valerie, you might try her book "The SCUM Manifesto" (AK Press, $7 CAN).
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