Saved it for later. I still have a headache. Short summary: I am thinking of staying on this blog instead of moving to a new one, and I saw the trailer for Brokeback Mountain and noted that it’s being given The Notebook treatment, no matter what the movie might actually be like. If I were gay I’d be insulted by the schmaltzy strings and gloppy voiceovers emitting ridiculously fulsome praise of this film (Heath Ledger is better — at everything — than Jesus!, and it’s going to get every prize in the universe including the Nobel Peace Prize and the Proxima Centauri Gamma Irridium Star of Intra-Galactic Excellence). Then again, I still think of gay people as examples of wit, charm, and fashion, but that apparently hasn’t been true since Noel Coward died. Gays are now Just Folks, and are expected to tear up and reach for the hanky when one male movie actor makes googoo eyes at another male movie actor as the violins swell, just the way 99% of my sex does when they watch pinky goo crap like Bridges of Madison County. The only thing keeping pedophiles from getting this treatment is the Catholic priest scandal; when the church gets rid of the teen-altar-boy robe-lifters in its ranks I wouldn’t be surprised if the next Hollywood “art” blockbuster will feature the doomed romance of a middle-aged adult with a preteen (or younger?) child. Or maybe they’ll tackle incest first, who knows? We’re running out of things to do with our genitals, so I can only hope they’ll stop before they get to the insertion of inanimate objects, or man-chicken relations. Don’t believe me? Then you haven’t been paying attention for the last thirty years.
Just one more thing: I am more than half convinced that all this increase in crude sexual display in the movies is actually a symptom of a fear and even hatred of true sexuality, especially between the opposite sexes. Let me ask you this: is there one single movie released in the past, say, five years that was even one-tenth as sexy in its entirety than one five-minute sequence in any movie made up to the early sixties? I will illustrate: last night I happened to catch the last few minutes of the musical Band Wagon, starring Fred Astaire, Cyd Charisse, and others. Now I don’t care for musicals — unless they have Fred Astaire. There is something so self-assured and relaxed about Astaire, so adult yet enjoying it that no male actor of today can bring off even as a pose. It’s simply not possible for our overgrown adolescents to display such confidence. And Astaire was kind of goofy-looking, not really what we consider “handsome” these days. But compared to someone like, say, George Clooney — oh please, don’t make me laugh.
Anyway, I turned it on in the middle of a dance sequence. The cast is putting on a play (it’s a play within a play, you know, like Shakespeare was always putting in his plays), and there’s a stylized film noir set. Then the camera pans to Cyd Charisse, leaning against the bar and wrapped in this amazing black coat. She’s gorgeous. Then she slowly unwraps her coat (revealing this scarlet sleeveless dress with slits up to there to show off her famous legs) and she and Astaire do this dance sequence which was so sexy if I were a man I’d have passed out on the coffee table. So what do we have today to compare to anything like that? Madonna?