‘JFK’: A mystery wrapped in an enigma

“‘Bout as subtle as a cockroach crawlin’ ‘cross a white rug.” “All this badinage can be so easily misunderstood.” “You got the right ta-ta but the wrong ho-ho.” “Oswald did badly on the test, he says. ‘He only had two more Russian words right than wrong.’ Ha! That’s like me saying Touchdown here …(points toContinue reading “‘JFK’: A mystery wrapped in an enigma”

At war against gay Americans

Here we go again: A shooting at an LGBTQ club in Colorado Springs killed five people and injured 18 others overnight, police said early Sunday. Club Q, where police said the first call came in minutes before midnight, described it as a “hate attack.” Lt. Pamela Castro, a police spokesperson, told reporters the suspect wasContinue reading “At war against gay Americans”

For once, no doomgloating

With more than two-thirds of Americans supporting gay marriage, the Senate voted on Wednesday for a failsafe measure should the Supreme Court vitiate Obergefell v. Hodges, which might happen if Clarence Thomas, Samuel Alito, and the other dishonest ghouls use constitutional fig leaves to mask their disgust for queer folk holding hands. A dozen Republicans,Continue reading “For once, no doomgloating”

To cosplay is human: ‘Tár’

For audiences who want to relive the “canceling” of Kevin Spacey and Harvey Weinstein, Tár stands up and takes a bow — at first. Its plot could’ve showed up on a tweet linking to Daily Beast reportage. One of the world’s best composers, appetites monstrously gratified, finds herself in jeopardy when her habit of groomingContinue reading “To cosplay is human: ‘Tár’”

‘My Policeman’ offers bucketloads of gay misery

On progress Malcolm X said: “If you stick a knife in my back nine inches and pull it out six inches, there’s no progress. If you pull it all the way out that’s not progress. Progress is healing the wound that the blow made.” Depictions of queerness onscreen still don’t reflect the complexity of queerContinue reading “‘My Policeman’ offers bucketloads of gay misery”

I’d like to put you in a trance: Madonna’s ‘Erotica’ at 30

Happy birthday to Erotica, the darkest and most exhilarating album of Madonna’s career. 1992 came draped in black bunting. A month earlier R.E.M. had released Automatic for the People, a rummage through memories of film star adoration and swimming nude with dear friends as age, marriage, and AIDS snuffs out those loved ones. Apt toContinue reading “I’d like to put you in a trance: Madonna’s ‘Erotica’ at 30”

When we dead awaken: George Michael’s ‘Older’

The first difference listeners will note is with George Michael’s voice. Gone are the generous swoops that signaled his commitment to the material and the performance: the arias in “Careless Whisper,” “One More Try,” “Praying for Time,” his cover sof Queen’s “Somebody to Love” and Adamski-Seal’s “Killer,” the latter released a mere two and aContinue reading “When we dead awaken: George Michael’s ‘Older’”

Don’t knock the hustle: ‘Moneyboys’

They love him, he pays their rent. Or he pays their rent, they still don’t love him. A seasoned hustler, Fei (Kai Ko) is a dutiful son and nephew, sending money back to the family stuck in a village. Yet his sexuality disgusts them. Uncles share gross remarks about homosexuality. Women cough and change theContinue reading “Don’t knock the hustle: ‘Moneyboys’”

I love you, you pay my rent: ‘Peter Von Kant’

A certain kind of queer kitsch last forever. Arch, clinical, The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant (1972) is the least approachable of Rainer Werner Fassbinder’s major films: the depiction of a love triangle between a fashion designer (Margit Carstensen), her mute and much-abused assistant Marlene (Irm Hermann), and Karin (Hannah Schygulla), whom Petra wants toContinue reading “I love you, you pay my rent: ‘Peter Von Kant’”

‘Moonage Daydream’ a valentine to the grandest of poseurs

No talking heads. No explanations. The David Bowie of the documentary Moonage Daydream emerges as the ultimate in autopoiesis, a self-creation. Other than the light self-mockery delivered in an unswerving Cockney, no traces remain of the David Jones who hightailed it out of Brixton without acknowledging any family except half-brother Terry, who introduced him toContinue reading “‘Moonage Daydream’ a valentine to the grandest of poseurs”