It’s a Monday night and three whiskeys in (courtesy of Salvi’s, a small Italian-American bistro just around the corner of Extended Stay), I’m contemplating the notes I took on What’s Up, Scarlet?, a little gem of a gay flick about an uptight matchmaker, Scarlet Zabrinki (Susan Priver), who meets her match in the form of a mysteriously foreign and homeless actress named Sabrina (Musetta Vander). We’re first introduced to Scarlet at a bar mitzvah where her mother is pimping her to any eligible suitor in sight. She rather unceremoniously announces to the relentless boner she gets cornered by that she has to go home and walk her dogs. Quick cut to Scarlet under a heap of pups and I began to wonder if I would be alone forever as I observed my own canine wonder sweetly licking his balls under my favorite hoodie. But I suppose things could be worse. He could be humping the hoodie.
Anyway, Scarlet’s life ain’t bad except she ain’t got nobody. Until she gets tail-ended by the enigmatic Slav (?), takes her home and pretty soon has a new roommate. (Don’t ask, it’s implausible, but at eighty-four minutes you can live.) Her mother’s stoked because she thinks baby’s acquired a Venezuelan housemaid – see BAD GAYS/WRITERS? – and Scarlet actually starts enjoying herself, which consists of a trip to the theater and an almost lethal threesome to more lethal muzak at around forty-one minutes with Sabrina and a French lothario.
Eventually she falls into bed with roomie, Mommy walks in and flips shit, and finally Scarlet gains confidence and tells the overbearing matriarch to hit the road. Some dumb intrigue ensues with Scarlet’s dope of a brother when he gets a snatch attack and tries to fuck Sabrina, but the guy’s so innocuous, nobody’s gonna be shaking in their clogs over that one. (If details are of any interest to you, he’s a stoner attorney dating an ex-porn star. I generally ignore the straight characters in these films.)
What am I to say about this movie? According to IMDB, fuckers had an estimated budget of over a million bucks. Clearly the project was close to someone’s heart. I had a nice time. It didn’t appear any animals were injured in the production. But I still need lesbian Los Angeles explained to me because the sheer quantity of lipstick shizz available on IGLN tells me there is a big enough subculture and apparently a market for this sort of vapid long hair on long hair action. The queer vag-lover in me wants to know what it’s all about. And this time I’m not watching every episode of the L-Word again to get to the bottom of it.