Happy Birthday, Frances

Thanks to my dear Stephen at Post Apocalyptic Bohemian, I am reminded that today marks the birthday of probably the single most identifiable gay icon of the 20th Century, Judy Garland.

As someone who spent his adolescence in the late 70's, I've never fully embraced the whole Judy thing. I mean, I get it. She was a beautiful and talented young woman tragically exploited and enabled by the studio system into a spiral of self-destruction. A story we see again and again in real-life Hollywood. Does no one learn from the past?

According to LGBT mythology, the Stonewall riots were an almost direct result of Garland's death. The Stonewall was supposedly packed with fans who had come to mourn the loss of their heroine when the infamous raid and resulting riot took place.

I think this is the thing: Dorothy never really feels like she belongs, throughout the whole movie. When she's home in Kansas, she's dreaming of somewhere far away. But when she ends up somewhere far away, all she wants to do is go home. She makes new friends; has a glamorous makeover; kills two witches and exposes (well, her dog does, anyway) a fraud, while helping her new friends discover they've already had their fondest wishes, all along. Is there any one of you out there that cannot relate to at least one aspect of this story? I doubt it. No wonder gay men embraced this movie (and Garland) so much. And let's not even mention the Ruby Slippers...

Personally, I think Garland's best performances came well after The Wizard of Oz. I am especially enamored of her in Meet Me in St. Louis, in which she sang several of her signature songs:

And then of course, there's this from 1950's Summer Stock:

If you're a Baby Boomer, I hope you get it. If you're a Gen X'er or younger... well, you have no idea what you missed.

More, anon.
Prospero

The Gayest Things You'll See This Week

First, I had a weird keyboard issue that made my PC crazy last night, and I didn't get to publish until I was at work today, using archaic versions of Windows and Explorer. I have since updated and added links to my last post about The Point, so check it out.

Second, I guess I'm a bit late in wishing everyone a Happy Pride Month, but June is far from over and there are plenty of events to attend, promote and just talk about.

Of course, if I can ask your indulgence yet once more, tickets are still vailabel for the JTMF Annual AIDS Fundraiser featuring Del Shores' Sordid Lives. What better way to celebrate Pride than to spend an evening laughing while helping several good causes?

And now on to tonight's post (it's about time!). Both of these clips are via Towleroad, and both are exceptionally positive. First, a remix of Katy Perry's 'California Gurls,' from Unicorn Brady, here is 'Washington Boys and California Gurls:'

Fun!

And by now you should know how I feel about most so-called 'reality' shows. Most of them revolve around people who are willing to stoop to almost anything for their 15 minutes. I will, however admit to a certain love of "America's Got Talent." Unlike "American Idol" (which has failed to generate more than one or two genuine stars), "AGT" is open to anyone, any age with any kind of talent. Often, "talent" is left open to interpretation and some folks are admittedly awful. Sometimes one is amazed and occasionally, one is stunned. I haven't seen this week's show (it's DVR'd), but when I saw this, I had no choice but to share. I am both amazed and stunned. Ladies and germs, I give you Prince Poppycock:

Holy crap! If he's smart, Poppycock (AKA John) will do something really outre by Philip Glass or an aria from The Fly. Oh, how I have grown to love summer TV! When "The Closer" comes back, I'll be a very, very happy TV zombie.

I'm tired... the show is getting closer and I am growing madder...

More, anon.
Prospero

Forgotten Gems: "The Point"

Wow... long time since I've done one of these, eh? Every so often, something from my youth rears its head in unexpected ways and places. And I'll tell you how this post came a bout, in a bit.

I know I saw the delightful animated film The Point when it first aired in 1971 on (I believe) ABC, though if you know better, please let correct me. The original airing was narrated by Dustin Hoffman, who also voiced the father. Subsequent airings had different Narrator/Fathers, including Harry Nilsson and Alan Thicke. Ringo Starr narrates the version currently available on DVD.

I was not yet an adolescent when The Point tried to make me understand that being different was okay; that there will always be those who love us, unconditionally and that each of us has purpose in life.

Oblio (Mike Lookinland -- Bobby on "The Brady Bunch")* is a round-headed boy born in a land of pointy-headed people. After a misunderstanding, Oblio is banished to the Pointless Forest, where he and his faithful dog Arrow encounter all sorts of beings in all different shapes and sizes and learning exactly what 'The Point' is. Oh, how I loved this movie...



The animation is very much a product of its time, though director Fred Wolf does a terrific job with the Norm Lenzer's script, based on an original story by the film's songwriter, Harry Nilsson. The movie generated two minor hits for Nilsson: "Me and My Arrow" (which later went on to be the theme for a car commercial) and "Are You Sleeping?" Both songs are pure 70's "Love, Peace, Flowers, Beads, Happiness," but I always associate them with this sweet little movie's oh-so-positive message.





Were we really that innocent 40 years ago? Of course, they were saying the same thing in the 70's about the 30's and in the 80's about the 40's, etc. It doesn't matter, I suppose. We were all innocent, once. Real life changes that... and that's kind of sad, actually.

I was visiting my usual cyber-haunts when I found a silly cartoon on Jonco's Bits and Pieces, which immediately brought The Point to mind, and a wave of nostalgia passed over me. Uncle P suddenly found himself transported back to his youth in The Time of the Hippies. I was 10 years-old and had no idea why a shirtless Speed Racer made my heart race, why Batman and Robin were so appealing or why I already felt "different." I just did. The Point is one of those great little movies every kid should see, if only so they can learn that being different isn't such a terrible thing at all.

So what brought this on? A stupid panel cartoon I saw on another blog that was captioned: "Triangles and Squares know that Circles are pointless." How could that not have gone right to "The Point?"

*Remind me to tell you about my friend Jon and 'The Brady Bunch Game,' some time. It's a little sick (okay - a lot sick), but pretty damned hilarious. And there's a hilarious cemetery story to share about him, too. Hmm.... I sense a JLG post in the fairly near future. I'll be seeing him on my birthday at Coney Island, for the first time in 27 or 28 years. Yikes!

More, anon.

Prospero

Redirected

I'm currently working full time, directing a play and trying to maintain 3 blogs. Yes, just further proof that Uncle P is off his ancient rocker (no, not Keith Richards).

That's the late, great Rue McClanahan as Madame Morrible in Wicked. I wish I could have seen her play that part - she was certainly perfect for it.

I'm tired, but if you want to read me quoting people about Rue (actually, they're from two of her "Sordid Lives" co-stars and quite lovely), then you can do so either by clicking here or on the James Tolin Memorial Fund Blog link to your left.

I am coming close to being Director Zombie, with more and focus on the show, than anything else (thank goodness the day job is slow this time of year).

The show isn't quite soup yet (nor should it be), but all the ingredients are prepared to dumped in the pot... Yum!

More, anon.
Prospero

Review: "Splice"

As I am sure you all know by now, Splice is director and co-writer Vincent Natali's personal take on Mary Shelley's tale of an obsessed scientist who creates life. In fact, in a rather amusing nod to it's inspiration, the scientists are named for two actors from James Whales' masterpiece The Bride of Frankenstein, Colin Clive and Elsa Lanchester.

Splice starts off with a literal birth, shot from the newborn's point of view - an exceptionally traumatic event which ends well when the newborn is saved by Clive and Elsa, it's "parents." Well, "his" parents, I suppose as they name the curiously phallic (seriously, it's a huge penis) beastie 'Fred' and introduce him to the equally phallic "Ginger." A sort of french kiss imprinting ensues and the scientists celebrate. And so ends any happy thing for the rest of this icky and silly movie that both could have and should have been better than it was.

Of course, the big evil pharma that Clive and Elsa work for only wants the protein these things create to synthesize the next big miracle drug... or something. We know they're an evil corporation because the "Bottom Line" is their only interest. Obsessed Elsa pushes her totally p-whipped boyfriend Clive into conducting secret, illegal experiments using human DNA, just to see if they can. Apparently, Horror and Sci-Fi just don't exist in this world, and no one has learned the ancient and oft repeated cautionary: Don't Play God, Dumbass! But no, they create a "child," whom Elsa later names Dren (another double-joke involving the exceptionally unlikely acronym of their lab's name). Dren, with her ostrich like legs, prehensile toes, impossibly huge eyes and poison-stingered tail is certainly a curious (and beautifully-rendered) creature, even if she too, starts out looking like a walking penis. (I swear... ask D.) And there are plenty of other disturbing elements of this movie that put the ick in icky, that I'll get to later..

Sarah Polley's Elsa is woman of only the best intentions, who can't allow morality to stand in the way of scientific progress. Polley, usually a fine actress and director, plays the role a little too intensely, bordering on the silly, at times. Brody's Clive is a mopey nerd who only goes along with it because he knows he could never really get a girl as hot as Polley in real in life. That's really the only thing I could think might have been the character's motivation for going along with his gal's plan, even as the situation grows more and more dire. Then there's Dren, played as a child by Abigail Chu and as an adult by Delphine Chaneac, a chirping, clicking and super-intelligent sub-human in a dress. Assisted by both make-up and digital manipulation, Dren is just attractive enough to make us want to be empathetic, but dangerous enough to be wary of. The FX here are creepily effective and one of the movie's only two strengths, though Chu and Chaneac both give remarkable physical performances, even through all that fiddling with their appearances.

Despite a silly and exceptionally early montage, Splice starts out as a slick take on a classic Sci-Fi Thriller. Sadly, the plot stalls in the second act (D told me it all made him uncomfortable, in the way that being around specials needs children make some people uncomfortable. Ouch!), including a scene during which I turned to D and whispered "Puttah on de Riiiii..." and the ickiest sex scene since One Night in Paris. The third act simply degenerates into a not-particularly scary or even exciting monster hunt. What should have been a seat-jumping thrill ride, instead becomes over-thought, over-wrought psycho-drama. What Splice really lacked to make it successful, was any sort of real suspense or surprise. Borrowing heavily from those that came before (and not ironically or in recognizable homage), Splice references plots and visuals from Alien; It's Alive; Species; Jurassic Park; The Fly and dozens of other better movies, but debases those films' plot devices by tying them all together rather sloppily.

While unlike D (who turned to me after it was over and said "I so hated this movie! I never want to see it again"*), I didn't hate Splice, but I didn't really like it. It wasn't bad, exactly. It just wasn't very good, either. It's a shame, because I really like the previous work of the folks involved and so I suppose I somehow expected more. It seems like every one was more interested in a paycheck than in making a good movie, which is sadly more and more the case.

Oh, I mentioned two good things about the movie. You know I love film scores ( a full third of my music collection are soundtracks and scores). Well, the score by relative newcomer Cyrille Aufort is immediately going on my Amazon wish list. When, like with Avatar, the most effective thing about the movie is its score, you know something went very wrong. Natali's Cube was a promising debut. Let's hope Splice is simply a sophomore slump. Splice is rated R for language , gory violence and sexual situations. *1/2 (One and a Half out of Four Stars), for the score, effects and physical acting only. Save your money and wait for it on cable.

*D, bless his heart, likes some pretty bad movies, so you know if he hated it, it's bad.

More, anon.
Prospero

3 Weeks from Tonight

Sordid Lives opens exactly 3 weeks from tonight, on June 25th, and I am starting to get anxious, as I always do this time of year. There is still so much work to be done: Six billion and four props to be found; sound cues to be found and recorded; lighting to be designed; running crew to be assembled; furniture to be found and/or made; costumes to be approved; costumes to be found... not to mention rehearsals, themselves. It seems every time one thing gets crossed off the list, 3 more get added.

And that's hardly to say that every one of those items will be done by just me. Our amazing Producer and Stage Managers work their asses off, even if they think I don't appreciate them. I do. And I love them, too - and they know that, or we all wouldn't still be doing this after 7 years. And don't get me wrong. I am NOT bitching. My readers who've spent much of their lives in the theatre (and I know there are several of you), know exactly what I mean.

Tom Stoppard, in his screenplay for Shakespeare in Love; makes one of the most amazingly astute (and hilarious) jokes about live theatre. When pressed by his backers for proof that their investment will pay off, Globe Theatre owner Phillip Henslowe (Geoffrey Rush) assures them that it just happens. "No one knows. It's a mystery." How true...

Now, mystery comes from the Greek mysterion, meaning "religious truth via divine revelation, mystical presence of God..." (via) It wasn't until 1908 that the word fell into popular use for a "detective story". But there it is, once again. Theatre as religion. The ancient Greeks took that quite literally, and their plays were tributes to their gods; regaling their mythologies to the masses so that they might better understand themselves and the world around them. From these early comedies and tragedies, sprung Theatre (in all its forms) as we have come to know it today. And while "Theatre" has come to mean many things to many people, it still remains a rite of worship of sorts, for me. I never feel so alive as I do when the curtain goes up. And to do so as part of such an amazing cause, makes it so much more meaningful.

You all know by now, that I am hardly a "religious' man. In fact, I'm not afraid to say that I think just about all of it is pure hooey. Most holy texts support the moral values of good living; provide a code of ethics by which most sane people agree to abide and provide a sense of comfort in regards to the relative brevity of our own existences. I try to remain an existentialist and a humanist. My maternal family's German pragmatism offers no other sensible solution, I think. Still, I do believe in feeding my soul. Now that's not to say I think there is a "soul" that gets judged after you die (or reincarnates; moves on; haunts the place where you died; gets a pair of wings and a cloud; burns in a lake of fire or moves a level closer to rejoining the Collective Conscience). I'm talking here about the kind of thing which brings one joy; gives one a sense of purpose and makes a positive difference in the lives of others. A JTMF show does all that and more., and I am never prouder to be a member of the Theatre Community than I am at the end of each June.

If you want to make a difference and are in the Northeast, please come to the JTMF 8th Annual AIDS Benefit featuring Del Shores' Southern-Fried "Black Comedy About White Trash, "Sordid Lives. Performances on June 25th and 26th include our themed reception - this year featuring a Texas Barbecue - and a Silent Auction of goods and services from local and national donors and merchants. Tickets are $25. Bidding opens at 7:00 PM; Curtain at 8:00. The performance on Sunday, June 27th is offered at a reduced ticket price, but does not include the Reception or Silent Auction. All ticket sales go to the Open Arms Foundation of Hillsborough, NJ and the James Tolin Memorial Scholarship for Performing Arts students at Mercer County Community College, where James was a Theatre Major.

Tickets are available online via the JTMF website; the Kelsey Theatre website; by phone at 609-570-3333 or at the Kelsey Box Office one hour before curtain.

If you want to help but can't attend, you can make a safe online donation via PayPal here.

I really do hope to see you there. It would be very cool to meet some of you.

More soon,
Brian

P.S. - Uncle P will be seeing Splice tomorrow night (don't worry, I have a ZZone post all ready to go), so watch for my review on Sunday. And hopefully, sometime early next week I'll be posting our podcast, radio interview and YouTube video here; on the JTMF Blog; on my Facebook wall and on the JTMF Facebook page.

More, anon.
Prospero

The Worst Gaga You'll See This Week.

Okay - I'll admit it... I have become a Lady Gaga fan. Her often hilarious (and sometimes poignant) lyrics and infectious dance beats combined with her outrageous theatricality - not to mention her outspoken views on LGBT issues - have made her a favorite and I look forward to hearing her next CD, whenever that may be.

And there are endless (and endlessly amusing) parodies of her songs and videos out there. Most of them are quite clever. Some of them are even very good. Many of them, are downright terrible. But Michael K over at dlisted, has found what may be the worst Lady Gaga 'tribute' ever made.

Remember this gem from a few hundred posts ago?

Well, I really think Merna may have actually escaped from the psycho who was holding a gun to her dog's head, gained a few pounds, ironed her hair and managed to get into a community college's Video Production class in order to make the video embedded below. Just a warning, it ain't pretty...

Talk about 'Bad Romance.'

I know that not every theatrical, film or video project with which I've been involved was what one might consider 'good." Some of them were downright awful. None of them, however, approached the craptitude of what you have just witnessed (and thankfully, they all took place before YouTube existed). I don't know if the poor girl is delusional or clueless. And honestly, who are any of us to judge? But, really? As a certain 60's space doctor often said, "Oh, the pain... the pain!"

I know I've been away for a few days, but as the JTMF production of Sordid Lives grows closer (now, just about 3 weeks away), I find myself with less and less time for other things. I'll be posting tomorrow (we have the night off) and have tons to post about on Saturday's Zombie Zone. After that, it will be catch-as-catch-can until after the 27th.

And just a head's up - if you're in the New York area in mid-July, please join me and my friends on Sunday, July 18th at Coney Island for my Birthday Blowout. We're meeting in front of The Cyclone at 1:00. Hope to see you there!

More, anon.
Prospero