I’m not gonna lie: I love action-adventure movies, and so does my boyfriend. We saw Surrogates together in an actual movie theater. Yes. We each paid $15 to watch Bruce Willis play a robot version of himself and blow shit up for two hours. What can I say, we’re dorks. But last night, the boundaries of our relationship and its tolerance of awful act-ad films were tested when I forced him to watch Surge of Power: The Stuff of Heroes with me at 1am. I literally have a bruise on my ribcage from every time he pinched me out of utter pain and in my iPhone notes, I actually wrote the words “some Meisner workshops would have gone a long way.”
Many questions linger in my mind after my first (and hopefully only) viewing. Is Lou Farigno gay? How did the film’s star, Vincent J. Roth, find time to also write the film, memorize his lines, eliminate all expression from his face AND design costumes? Was this film actually dubbed? Did they really pay someone to write that awful Tears for Fears-inspired superhero theme song that’s barely audible? Will I ever get those 85 minutes back (at least karmically)?
Good news for you: my boyfriend moved to California, so I’ll be watching a lot more homoflix (and eating) to cope with the loneliness. What better place to start than a movie that purports to deal with San Francisco, hustling and domestic abuse? The Stranger In Us was just the ticket for my overworked, under-cuddled state, and not only is it the first gay guy, non-MO CLASSIC movie to be dubbed FULL ‘MO, but it also introduces PHAGAMONES, a new category that reps gay dudes doing stereotypically nasty gay things.
The best part about this film for me was Raphael Barker playing lost-soul Anthony. I know I’d seen him before in Shortbus, fucking that chick against a glass door, but never realized that he looks just like my boyf, only with more manicured eyebrows! So I can safely say that my slight approval of this film is heavily influenced.
Every once and a while life seems to be doing weird things to you. You’re confused. You feel like your art is confounding you and maybe you’re having some trouble getting laid. You’ve got a lot of shit to deal with, but you just can’t. And for some reason, you’re having trouble feeling anything. During these times, you might just need a good fucking cry, to bawl your eyes out, sob alone in the comforting darkness of your empty apartment. If that’s what you need, then Longtime Companion is the film for you. And fuck it, if it isn’t what you need, you should still fucking watch this movie if you haven’t, cuz this be a MO CLASSIC.
If you’ve been living under a heterosexual rock and haven’t heard of this film, here’s the breakdown : seminal, groundbreaking, late-80s film that unabashedly, un-glamourously and honestly portrays the AIDS crisis, and its effect on the gay community, featuring phenomenal performances by young Mary-Louise Parker and Campbell Scott, and young-ish Harry and the Hendersons star, Bruce Davison. It is and was one of the best artistic representations of how AIDS actually effected real people, and is extremely moving, educational and inspiring.
Don’t say I never did anything for you. It took me nearly three hours to watch an hour and change of the first season of the web series We Have to Stop Now. I nearly exhausted my beer rations in the first sixty minutes, had a nervous breakdown over a Facebook message my ex sent me in the next, but by the last third had grown so accustomed to the prehistoric Internet connection offered to me courtesy of Extended Stay America, I couldn’t imagine watching an Instant Netflix selection any other way. That’s right readers. I’m writing you from the cozy suburbs of Dublin, Ohio where I will be for the next month and Daddy got some time on his hands. Bring on the lonely nights!
With a hurricane pending and a pretty free social calendar since my sweetie starting remacking on cisgender dudes, what better way to spend a Saturday night than kicking it with my girl Rel, her girl Amanda, some questionable shrimp pad thai and The Itty Bitty Titty Committee? Stumped? Well, I couldn’t think of one either so me and my pup Blue made the trek out to her no-man’s land sublet for some second-wave meets third-wave feminist showdown rom com cooter candy and we were not disappointed. This movie kills!
Anna (Melonie “Great Lips, No Range” Diaz) is smarting from a break-up from her gf Jacinta. With big sis getting married and no college prospects in sight, she spends her time working as a receptionist for a plastics guy specializing in breast augmentation. (She also wears some pretty unfortunate khaki flares for the first twenty minutes of the film.) But this all changes when she meets Sadie (Nicole Vicius), a ridiculous hottie she catches spray-painting the tit clinic after hours. Sadie announces that she’s the ringleader of an activist organization called Clits in Action (CIA) and that Anna should totally stop by and jam on their covert activities if she’s ever in the hood. And she’s about to get more “in the hood” than she ever expected. Bad news though: Sadie’s got a sugar momma (guest lecturer second year at Smith, thanks) and she’s not givin’ up the perks of living with the director of a nonprofit for the wiles of just any baby dyke who wants to learn the ropes of Rrriot Grrl. No. It’s going to take more than that and that’s just what this film is about: Anna’s journey to herself and the politicized pussy of her dreams.