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Showing posts with label Gay Movie Icons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gay Movie Icons. Show all posts
The Hand That Rocks the Cradle is a camp classic. It stars Rebecca DeMornay and Annabella Sciorra. Wow ~ What marquee could feature those two names, plus its long-winded title, together?
It's all very by-the-numbers as far as psycho-thrillers go. I remember seeing this at a theater in Park Slope with my friend Kevin Scott Hall and we howled throughout at the campy conceit of it all. That seemed to annoy some patrons who were taking this in dead earnestness so we tried to stifle it.
DeMornay plans on breaking up Annabella's home ~ especially by yielding a gigantic wrench. Throw that into the works. "Wrenching them apart" ~ get it? Oh, this film is sly.
To be fair, the movie contains an ample share of suspense and pure horror. But how did the cast keep straight faces through this. Maybe they didn't.
Mark McCoy is the hot husband Rebecca craves. And don't we all. after all? What a hunk!
Julianne Moore is a friend of Sciorra's... and you know what happens to them in fright fests.
The Hand is a great damsel-in-distress flick that's currently on video. Suggested viewing.
Madame X is a Ross Hunter production for Universal starring Lana Turner and John Forsythe. It's campy fun mostly but have some Kleenex on hand for its finale.
This is a deluxe production and Hunter and the cast and crew pull out all the stops to put this across.
Constance Bennett portrays John Forsythe's mother, though she was only a few years older than he and Ms Turner. Still, she shines as the villainess of this film who causes Lana's downfall.
Though the film is a period piece, the hairdos and clothes are strictly 1960s throughout. Lana's frocks and hairstyles are fabulous, however, despite historic inaccuracy.
Ricardo Montalban is Lana's backstreet lover, an indiscretion that costs her dearly and sets off her downward spiral. Burgess Meredith pops up as a sleaze bag con man, and Keir Dullea (2001: a Space Odyssey, David and Lisa) plays Lana's son.
It's all about a mother's self-sacrifice in the end don'tcha know! You may giggle initially but you'll be in tears by the end, guaranteed.
Far from Downton Abbey, Maggie Smith doffs her make-up and gowns to play an eccentric homeless woman who lives in her van. The UK film displays the star's amazing versatility and should have gotten her an Oscar nod. It's said to be based on a true story.
The British do films like The Lady in the Van so well. It's a charming, simple comedy with a great team of supporting players.
Smith was nominated for a BAFTRA and Golden Globe Awards though, unfortunately, won neither.
I remember going to London and seeing Dame Maggie in the West End production of Peter Shaffer's Lettice and Lovage. She would camp it up onstage with broad, bravado hand gestures. When she got thunderous applause, she'd do it again -- and again when she felt like it. She knows how to play to a crowd and how to milk things for laughs. She brings the same type of energy to her performance in Van.
There ain't nothin' like a Dame! Not Dame Maggie Smith, anyhow. I highly endorse this extraordinary film. Treat yourself to it!
Nicole Kidman tackles risky but interesting projects. The burning question is how many box-office flops can her career withstand?
This picture paints a picture of an unchanging Middle East. It is a biopic of photographer Gertrude Bell, and a very fascinating one at that.
The sands are alive with the sight of Gertrude. Kidman looks great in this, playing a much younger character. Next thing we know she'll be playing Queen of the Jungle.
This actress is still a screen queen still despite box-office receipts, however. James Franco is her co-star. Quality drama!
I can distinctly recommend watching this flick. Unfortunate it didn't get wider distribution. After all, sand worked for Matt Damon; why not for Nicole?
Raquel Welch gives her most wrenching performance as a roller derby queen and single mother of two kids in Kansas City Bomber. While meant to be a straightforward, serious film, it is probably best enjoyed as camp.
It was nominated for a Golden Globe Award for Raquel's co-star Helena Kalliataniotes, which was a kind of a slap to Ms Welch, who I think is excellent in this. But nobody wanted to take this brunette beauty seriously. Perhaps her beauty eclipsed her talent.
Still, this is a riveting flick. Very 70s. The ever-handsome Kevin McCarthy (Invasion of the Body Snatchers) is also in this as the team manager.
Kansas City Bomber is a film with loads of talent, drama and tension. Distinctly on Buddy B's highly recommended list.
The jazz background score by Don Ellis adds to the gritty quality of this film. Now on video from MGM.
John Waters again proved what a witty and clever raconteur he is, bringing his hour-long stand-up comedy act to the stage at City Winery in NYC.
A tall, slim figure in a garish holiday suit. wearing his trademark pencil-thin mustache, he played to a very appreciative packed house, regaling us with his sharp, off- beat monologue. There were no videos or music; just Mr Waters on-stage with his comic patter.
I wanted an image of him onstage, so I took a photo, thinking no one would ever notice, even though we'd been notified that pictures and videos were strictly forbidden. I figured that, in the spotlight, the director would never see that little, old flash from my cell phone. Guess what? He did.
As we were right aside the stage in front seats, he looked at me and firmly reminded me of the club's policy. Mr Waters asks us to unleash our inner rebels and iconoclasts. But, obviously, not when he's performing. I was secretly pleased to have unleashed his inner diva, but let a word to the wise be sufficient. Upon reflection, though, I thought it might be fun to proudly say I got 86'd at a John Waters show. After all, what could possibly offend him? Well, now I've tested the Waters so that we all know.
However, he must have cast of spell. The photo never came out after all that trouble.
Kevin at City Winery
The director was back with his updated obsessions of celebrity worship, sex, movies, music, politics and pop culture, making the season bright... and gay! The show, entitled "A John Waters Christmas: Holier and Dirtier" was also funnier.
The q&a with the audience at the end of the show displayed John's ability to think on his feet and still be brilliant. He payed homage to Andy Warhol, an obvious influence, when he talked about Holly Woodlawn, who died this night in one of the show's rare touching moments.
When asked if he thought any of today's politicians had ever seen Pink Flamingos, he quipped: "Bill Clinton definitely. Hillary probably not." Then he moved on to mention what a great First Lady Bill would make. "Like our new Mamie Eisenhower!" Advice to today's rioters: "I'm with you but don't burn down your own neighborhoods! Burn down a country club!"
The Star stars Bette Davis, Sterling Hayden and a teenaged Natalie Wood. It is reportedly a roman a clef about Joan Crawford. Bette has a field day.
Bette is a down-on-her-luck movie star. Like Crawford, she has a mooching mother and brother. "Don't you understand?" she screams out at them in the best Bette bravado. "I'm broke! Cold, flat, stony broke!"
The film was made in 1952, the year I was born. I never saw it until it played one night, at the old Theatre 80 St Mark's Place in the '70s.
The film has numerous highlights. Like Bette's drunk driving calamity with her Oscar on the dashboard, as if it were her St Christopher icon. She winds up in a women's prison where she has to share a cell.
And then there's her disastrous attempt at a comeback in a serious but unglamorous co-starring part. She decides to tailor her costume to make it more form-fitting. (As Ms Crawford was known to do.) Bette has Crawford's mannerisms and "blessings" to the crew down pat. Impossible to watch these scenes and not see she's caricaturing Crawford with great relish.
Bette's Margaret Elliott is one of her best characterizations, made between her hits All About Eve and What Ever Happened to Baby Jane. Her scenes with Hayden (who's quite the hunk in this) and Wood (for whom Davis had great affection) are wonderful.
The Star is a self-destructive one, but that makes great drama. She sacrifices the love of a simple, adoring man for her career. It was scripted by a husband/wife team who knew Crawford well.
Highly recommended. On dvd and on download from Amazon and Barnes & Noble.
This was Susan Hayward's first of two Best Actress Oscar wins (the next would be for I Want to Live; both biopics). Being a star vehicle, the red-headed Hayward refused to go brunette to portray Lillian Roth, obviously thinking nobody knows what she looked like anyway, plus the film was in black-and-white.
Roth was what may seem to some to be a paradox: Jewish and alcoholic. But, believe me, I've known quite a few in my life. One, a woman named Ruth who set her apartment on fire when she passed out with a cigarette and two children in their penthouse.
Much later, she tragically died by passing out and bleeding to death after her head hit the coffee table. After that, her son and daughter paid for her burial but refused to attend. The rabbi gave a damning speech that shocked us before she was put to rest.
But enough about Ruth and more about Roth as I digressed!
The screenplay of I'll Cry Tomorrow is by Helen Deutsch, who blames Roth's stage-door mother for her problem. Very Freudian. Mom is played by the brilliant and intimidating Jo Van Fleet. Richard Conte and Ray Danton play the men in Susan's life. Hayward sang her own songs in this one, babies, and don't you ever forget it even if Broadway doesn't go for booze and dope!
Nothing's better than Susan playing the martyr, however. We expect as much from her. And nothing's better than her reprising playing a drunk as she did in Smash-up! She does it so convincingly!
There are marital problems, tragic losses, divorces, and domestic abuse. Great suffering Susan! Of course, as in Smash-up, there's her male friend, again played by Eddie Albert, to lead the way, getting more romantic with her on this outing.
Oddly, when Lillian Roth is seen at the AA meeting, everyone gets up and gives their full names. The total antithesis of Anonymous. Just not how it really goes, fyi.
Beautiful black-and-white cinematography by Arthur E. Arling.
Moments of this movie were spoofed in John Waters' Polyester with Divine.
The Nanny (1965) has absolutely nothing to do with the popular Fran Drescher tv series of the same name. In this film, La Davis is even scarier than Nanny Fine, so don't be a Nanny ninny.
It is one of two movies Ms Davis did at UK's Hammer studios in the mid-Sixties. Hammer is known for their horror films, and while Bette is as frightening as Christopher Lee's Dracula in this film, she renders a very controlled and admirable performance. She didn't need bloodshot contact lenses; she's got Bette Davis eyes.
The Nanny poses a mystery: who killed baby sister and, later, the baby's mother? The little boy who is her brother or Davis, the family's nanny for two generations? By the denouement, things become abundantly clear. Ah, what these Nanny diaries could tell!
Wendy Craig and Jill Bennett star as the boy's hapless mom and aunt. Jimmy Sangster (Curse of Frankenstein) directs with effective, mounting suspense. Pamela Franklin is in this and young William Dix is solid as the creepy kid.
The type of British thriller frequently referred to as "crisp" in the States, The Nanny will still grip most viewers today, and is one of Bette Davis' best post-Baby Jane motion pictures.
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