Started my new film year with a short film from 2013 called Proximity, an 11 minute thriller from director Ryan Connolly and co-writer Seth Worley that is well worth the watching. My last stage boyfriend, Chino Cougar Devine (yes, he spells it that way), a hot little Latino with an adorable fiancee, shared it on Facebook and after watching it, I knew I had to share it with you.
Intriguing from the outset, Proximity starts as two men unload a truckload of bound and hooded men in a remote area. They cut their bonds, remove their hoods and wait to see what happens. What follows is a smart, intense Sci-Fi take on The Defiant Ones that's loaded with action and surprises. If this is what Connolly and company can do in 11 minutes (and reportedly shot in only 10 days), just imagine the feature they could make, given the budget. You can watch the film below, along with the trailer for 1958's The Defiant Ones, starring Tony Curtis and Sydney Poitier.
Now that I have Netflix, I plan on seeing and reviewing more films than I had last year. I still haven't gotten to the movies since Gravity, I think, and that makes me sad, especially with holiday gift cards in my wallet. Dear D owes me at least two... Anyway, enjoy Proximity and look for more from Connolly on his YouTube channel.
Here's to seeing more movies in 2014!
More, anon. Prospero
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Thanks again to Netflix, I was able to enjoy yet another movie I've been reading about for several years: director Ti West's 2011 haunted hotel movie, The Innkeepers. I recently saw West's debut House of the Devil and found it a bit tedious, but the he has upped his game here, creating compelling characters we actually care about (it may have helped that the young lead reminded me of a very talented young actress I've had the pleasure of directing twice - Yes, Sarah, I mean you!).
It is the last weekend for the soon-to-be-closed Yankee Pedlar Inn leaving Claire (Sarah Paxton) and Luke (Pat Healy) in charge. Luke is a wannabe paranormal investigator who swears he's encountered the hotel's ghost, a woman who supposedly committed suicide after being left at the alter. The only guests are a single woman with her young son and a former TV star turned psychic (Kelly McGillis). As Claire investigates the story of Madeline O'Malley and McGillis warns about going to the basement, the tension rises toward a truly scary ending. Taking cues from The Shining and even The Sentinel, West manages to create a modern ghost story with a kick, using a single location with a likeable and talented cast (which includes an hilarious turn from "Girls" creator, Lena Dunham). I can imagine Dear D squirming in his seat through this one. It certainly got my blood pumping, especially in the third act! *** (Three Out of Four Stars).
Fans of smart, tension-building horror should be quite pleased by The Innkeepers. Rated "R" by the MPAA for bloody images and language.
More, anon. Prospero
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I'm still recovering from and dealing with the aftermath of Mom's passing (ugh - who knew there was so much to do after someone passes?), so I've been rather absent. But there is so much I want to talk about today that I had to post. So let's get started, shall we?
First, news from Broadway: In a scenario right out of a Mel Brooks movie, Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark (a show I've railed against since it was announced) will close on January 4th after having lost $60 million dollars. Playbill.com reports that the problem-plagued show (which cost $75M to mount and nearly ruined the career of director Julie Taymor) will leave many investors without seeing a dime in revenues. Taymor directed Disney's still-running biggest Broadway hit, The Lion King, but on-set injuries and a disjointed second act led producers to fire her (Taymor sued but the case was settled out of court). It got to the point where people were going to see the show in hopes of witnessing one of its many epic fails. Apparently, no one was going just to hear the rather lame score by Bono and The Edge. The show is so infamous, it even inspired and episode of "Law and Order: Criminal Intent." Still, it will live on in future Las Vegas and German productions, as well as a touring stadium show where some investors may recoup some of their losses. Good riddance to bad theatre, I say.
Next up, a story my sister, Dear D and sweet Mia will hate (sorry kids). Thanks to a video link on Towelroad, I have discovered one of the most interesting performers I've seen in quite some time. Puddles is a 7' tall sad clown with a rather amazing voice and range of styles. The video from revisionist cover band Postmodern Jukebox features Puddles as lead vocalist in a haunting cover of Lorde's "Royals:"
Intrigued. I looked up Puddles Pity Party, which led me to additional YouTube videos and this rather hilariously disturbing death-metal cover of Celine Dion's insipid Titanic theme, "My Heart Will Go On:"
Puddles has several other rather fascinating videos on YouTube, which I highly recommend to those among you who are decidedly not coulrophobic. While I truly admire his work, I can't help but feel a slight pang of jealousy at not being clever enough to come up with a character like that of my own.
And finally, though hardly last, the still amazing gay icon Cher has given us what may well be the gayest music video ever, outside of an Adam Lambert song. The video for her latest single "Take It Like a Man," features some very hot guys in teeny-tiny Speedos, washing cars; diving off of sailboats and generally acting like they're in a soft-core gay porno. Muscles; tatts; twerking and bulges abound (not that I'm complaining):
Whew! I'm spent.
More, anon. Prospero
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November isn't just about Thanksgiving and Turkeys. Just as October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month (pink ribbons everywhere you look), November has been dubbed "Movember" for Men's Health Awareness Month (the Mo comes from Mustache, which men aren't supposed to shave instead of wearing a pink ribbon).
Uncle P is a traditionalist and wears the goatee he's worn for twenty years because a) I look ridiculous without it and b) it helps define my face. The only time I shave it is if I have to for a show. The last time it came off was last for three weeks in April 2012 to play Edna is Hairspray. And that was the first time in a very long time.
Unlike my Dear D and a few other hirsute gentlemen like myself, I don't have a magically regenerating beard (D get's an 11:30 AM shadow), nor nearly the thickness of facial hair to engage in anything fancy, like the Batstaches below:
Of course, some men have made their mustaches their trademarks:
And while some guys can really rock facial hair:
Other guys fail really well at it:
This Guy is the Real Dracula?
If Theodore Geisel had Been a Barber
Prince Justin D'Bague of Douchylvania
Of course, if you're really good at it, you might end up as a contestant in a beard and mustache competition like these weirdos:
Whether or not you shave this month is really irrelevant to me. What's not is our health. Yes, I said ours. Without you, I have no one to write for. Without me... well, who am I kidding? You'll find another blogger... or whatever is going to replace the format, eventually. Anyway...
Gentlemen, check yourselves for testicular, prostate and breast cancer (yes, men get breast cancer) regularly. If you are over 40 get a regular prostate exam and regular colonoscopies should start at 50. You get one body, guys. You should know it well enough to know when something's wrong. For more information, visit Movember United States. You can also donate money there towards men's health initiatives, including mental health groups. I'm not one to talk, but eat right (I really try and am getting better at it); sleep well (always an issue for me); move - if you can't outright exercise, just get up and walk around; stretch; wiggle; chair-dance; whatever - move!; stay in touch with friends and family and make time for them more often than you think you can.
Just promise you won't try to grow a 'stache if it's going to look like the douche canoe in that last photo.
More, anon. Prospero
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Pasta, now? Really? So Guido Barilla (yes, Guido) blathered on about not wanting gay people to eat his pasta. And now we're all supposed to boycott Barilla pasta.
I keep wavering back and forth on boycotts, simply because they don't usually work. However, as a statement of protest and displeasure, a boycott can draw attention to a cause. I don't remember that last time I had delicious Chick Fil-A sandwich. I have managed to find delicious frozen waffle fries and a home-recipe for the sandwich that's very close.
Growing up, Mom was a San Giorgio user, if memory serves. Dad and I both preferred their rigatoni, because they "held the sauce." Dad also liked linguini. Unfortunately, he liked both of them cooked to death. The first time I had properly cooked pasta was revelatory. Mom's meatballs were the size of softballs, and while her sauce was delicious (she was taught by our Sicilian landlady when I was toddler), after Mom taught it to me, I tinkered with it and made it my own, finally learning realistic meatball sizes; spice and herb proportions; the best tomatoes and cheeses to use and make me proud to serve them. And while both my Dear D and the mysterious Italian superhero Pax Romano (both of whom I love, dearly) insist on mistakenly calling their tomato pasta sauce 'gravy,' my sauce kicks some serious ass and deserves a pasta which is worthy of its unabashed superiority. Yes, I am that proud of my meatballs marinara, bitches!
I have used both many dried and fresh pastas over the years. Of course, fresh is better. My Hungarian grandmother's homemade soup noodles were amazing! In my 20's, I would get fresh pasta from the product demonstrators when I worked in The Cellar. Those were pretty good, too.
I don't actually remember when I first tried Barilla pasta. I'm sure it was because I had coupon. But I liked it and continued to like their whole wheat and Plus lines, which actually tasted a lot better than similar products from other companies (outside the more expensive imports and specialty brands). I have several boxes of Barilla pasta in my cupboards and my pantry. I'm not going to throw them out - that would be wasteful and stupid. The money spent on them is long their coffers and I don't know about you, but I can't afford to throw away perfectly good food.
Competitor Bertolli wasted no time in pointing out their inclusive advertising, As did "Fresh" (i.e. refrigerated) pasta-maker Buitoni. Bertolli has previously sponsored programming on the LGBT network LOGO:
And then there was this Bertolli olive oil campaign with a mostly naked chef:
I initially balked at yet another boycott, but I can hear One Million Morons firing their tiny brain engines to organize both a boycott of all other pastas and a push to buy Barilla. I probably won't be buying any more Barilla. The search for a new whole grain pasta is on. Any and all suggestions are welcome. Medium Shells, Rigatoni, Penne, Elbows and Angel Hair preferred. Gay Foodie White Whine over.
More, anon.
Prospero
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My Birthday Celebration 2013 continues and Dear D treated me to the 7:45 screening of director James Wan's 'Based on the True Story' much-touted (currently at 84% Fresh on RottenTomatoes -- almost unheard of for a horror movie) The Conjuring at our favorite (and mutually local) multiplex.
After a brief prologue involving a rather terrifying doll and the introduction of so-called 'Demonologists,' Ed (Patrick Wilson) and Lorraine (Vera Farmiga) Warren, we meet Roger (Ron Livingston) and Carolyn (Lily Taylor) Perron as they move themselves and their five daughters from NJ to a secluded house in rural Rhode Island in 1971. The family is excited to explore their new digs but their dog refuses to enter (D turned to me and whispered "Leave. Leave now.") and the horrible things start to happen almost immediately. By the time Carolyn convinces the Warrens to help them, the family is sleeping together in the living room; doors are tied shut to prevent them from rattling and banging; Carolyn is covered in mysterious bruises and the girls are terrified. The Warrens determine that this not a haunting, but an attempt at demonic possession and vow to get a priest to exorcise the demonic entity. Sadly, the script is by brothers Chad and Carey Hayes (House of Wax; The Reaping) and it never reaches the height of creepy as Wan's last movie (written with Wan's Saw and Dead Silence partner Leigh Whannel), Insidious.
A caveat - as a non-believer, possession movies (nope, not even The Exorcist) just aren't scary to me (not that any horror movie is ever really 'scary' to a jaded horror fan like Uncle P). But while D and most of the very packed audience jumped and screamed a whole lot more than I did (I'll admit to jumping once -- the maid!!), but the creepy finesse of Insidious just wasn't quite there. What saves the movie are the earnest performances of the very talented cast who sell some pretty absurd dialog with earnest conviction. Wilson is fine as usual and Livingston (whose character is a trucker, leaving him away from home for work) isn't given enough to do. Taylor, an Indie darling whose last horror movie was the deplorable remake of The Haunting, gives one of her best performances to date as a loving, terrified mom desperate to keep her equally terrified family safe. But this is far and away Farmiga's movie. Having just spent the past spring watching her astonishing performance as Norma Bates on AMC's "Bates Motel" and seeing her create and totally lose herself in diametrically opposed character in a very different genre piece, it's obvious she she should make more scary stuff. Another Indie darling, Farmiga seems so at home in genre work and you can't take your eyes off of her whenever she's onscreen. Lorraine comes across as both strong in faith and character and I almost believed she could see the evil she claimed to see.
Joseph Bishara's (Insidious) score works well and allows plenty of room for nostalgic period music while all of the design and art direction gets the 70's pretty right (at least as well as I can remember, I was actually quite young in 1971... sigh... ). Don't get me wrong, The Conjuring is hardly a bad movie and not even a bad horror movie. It just wasn't quite creepy enough for me to make it a great horror movie. It's fun and has lots of shocks and weirdness and appropriate, tension-relieving humor as any good horror movie should and Wan does know how to build suspense, even if the payoffs weren't always what I hoped they could have been. Of course, a few of the payoffs are visually striking and startling at the same time. The movie works best at those moments, but they're to few and far between to make up for things like a non-religious family immediately buying into the religious aspects that the Warrens extoll to them without question.
D loved it, saying it was one of the scariest movies he'd ever seen. I must admit to enjoying his reactions and jumps and yelps even more than the movie (you know I love you, D!!). I can understand why this movie (just like The Exorcist) works for so many people. It just missed for Uncle P. **1.2 (Two and a Half Stars). The Conjuring is rated R for "Terror." And for the first time in a long time, I saw no inappropriately young people in the audience! Thanks for being responsible, Hamilton, NJ movie-goers!
The Warrens are real people, though Ed passed away in 2006. There is already talk of a franchise surrounding the couple's exploits as 'paranormal investigators' and there is an amusing Easter Egg in the end referencing their most famous (and highly-debated) case in one Amityville, NY.
More, anon. Prospero
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"I Could Ride That Lip All the Way to Trenton!" ~ Uncle P's Mother
Once again, some links in this post may be NSFW.
So, last night... Uncle P spent 90+ minutes writing, researching and linking hilarious and informative links in a post which I failed to revert to draft, forcing me to re-log into Blogger and lose everything I had painstakingly worked on to give you, what few faithful readers I have, a few moments of weird entertainment. I wasn't happy, but it certainly wasn't the end of the world, nor the first time my own neglectfulness had led to such an issue.
Today, my sweet, thoughtful mother (who is nothing like the Gerald Scarfe illustration linked in the Pouty Picture's caption) presented me with an "Anti-Fathers' Day" present. And before all you Grammar Nazis question it, the apostrophe is used the way it should be used in this case, meaning all fathers, rather than just yours, which would be written as 'Father's.' (Can you tell I'm in a mood? Thought you might.) Anyway... In the wake of my previously mentioned BIL's greatly appreciated semi-decimation of my long-neglected backyard's overgrowth, the task of disposing over-sized nuisance flora left behind by his Herculean effort seemed nothing short of over-whelming to yours truly. Mom, in her infinite thoughtfulness, saw this set of ratcheting pruning shears on my sister's competition and ordered them (in blue), thinking they might save me time and effort
And boy, was she right. I tried them out almost right away and found that they cut through some rather tough branches with little effort and thinner ones with almost none at all. Like 'buttah.' The hand shears took on weeds, smaller shrubs, saplings and rose branches just as easily, once I figured out how to open the damned things (no instructions led to some consternation when it came to figuring out the safety lock). I honestly haven't been so pleased by a practical gift in a very long time. If you're looking for a gift for Dad; Mom; Dads; Moms or even if you're just a homeowner with an overgrown yard, I highly recommend them. They were purchased from the major home-shopping channel that is not located in the F state. And if that doesn't help, it starts with the same letter as one of my dearest friend's name.
Sadly, my joy over the amazing pruners was soon negated, once again by own stupidity. Plans had been made for Q, Dale, K and I to see Man of Steel at our central (i.e. default) AMC multiplex. In an effort to control my credit card spending, Uncle P chose not to buy tickets online, instead picking up K in time (or so I thought) to buy tickets once at the theater. For the first time in all my of memory, Uncle P was shut out of a sold-out movie. Of course, Q and Dale (like sane people) had pre-purchased their tickets on-line. After much texting and an actual phone call; malfunctioning automated ticket machines and an aborted attempt to buy tickets to another movie at the same time (thanks to the aforementioned MTMs) K and I went for a drink and then went home. I will have other chances to see Man of Steel this week, though there's nothing like seeing a movie with one's best friends.
While I'm still hoping that Dear D, Mike and I will see This Is the End this week as well, I came home to find a friend had sent me a link the very Bromantic video embedded below, which actually made me feel a little better. What can I say, but 'Kiss Me, Guido?'
Yes, I know there are people who can barely feed their families, let alone afford to go to a movie. Yes, there are far worse things in the world than lost blog posts and sold-out movies. I'd like to think of myself as someone who not only has compassion and empathy for others (i.e. 'Not a Jerk'). I volunteer and do charity work. I smile at everyone (even those who refuse to smile back), though I don't suffer fools, easily.
None of that means that I don't get to pout now and then, does it? I mean, I know plenty of folks who pout regularly (in fact, almost incessantly) on various forms of social media. Am I being a 'drama queen' tonight? Maybe. Churlish? Possibly. A 'White Whiner?" Perhaps. But who isn't, at least once a while? Damn! I really wanted to see some Cavill, tonight!
More, anon. Prospero
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The Gayest Breakfast You'll See This Week (4 Bears Only)
Notice: Some links in this post may be NSFW, depending on where you work. I hope by now, no one really needs the link to that acronym.
Anyway...
I actually did make pancakes and sausage this morning for brunch, though not nearly as many of the Pride Cakes (Flip Jacks?) as you see in the image on your left. Mine were actually much smaller, rather misshapen* and regular pancake colored, even though they were whole-wheat. And I used local honey in place of syrup. I do try, though I simply refuse to give up butter. I don't go nuts, but I'm not about to eat something even poop-eating flies supposedly won't touch. Butter's flavor and texture are so necessary for so many recipes. While most, if not all of them, can be made using less butter combined with olive oil, they simply cannot be made with hydrogenated vegetable oils, which are far, far worse for you than honest-to-goodness cow's milk butter.
Sorry for the tangent... because this post isn't about food or cooking or diets or anything other than the fact that June 1st marks the start of Pride Month here in the U.S. Usually at this time of year, Uncle P is either directing or in a JTMF benefit show (our only event this year isn't until October, but more on that, anon). This year, I have the leisure of being able to attend multiple Pride events, should I so desire, without having to man a booth or table at any of them. I've never been to NYC Pride or even Philly Pride. I've only ever been to NJ Pride which is held in Springsteen Central, Asbury Park at the Jersey Shore, which is being held tomorrow. I've been three times, but have never gotten to see the parade, because I was always manning the JTMF table, in hopes of drawing audience members and/or donors. I have a very funny NJ Pride story about D & Siah; a Velcro fly; a very drunken, horny twink named Noel and an Evil You-Know-What for another time. While I have always had time to wander the grounds and visit the other booths, I was never able to see the parade or really mingle with the multitude of gay Guidos on hand.
Here's the thing: I'm not sure I really want to go to any of them. But I actually kind of do. I may decide to brave the traffic and the crowds and go to Philly Pride next Sunday. I've always had a great time checking out the different booths and vendors at NJ Pride (yes, and the hotties), and expect I'd like Philly's version just as much, if not more. I just need to convince someone to join me. Any takers?
Although, if this is the best promo they can come up with, maybe we're all better off staying home:
Really, Philadelphia? Find a new agency, quick, before the Copyranter craps all over that crap. As well he should.
This June, celebrate yourselves, no matter what you sexuality! Celebrate your loved ones who support you and love you for who you are!. Celebrate your partner, if you are lucky enough to have one. Celebrate love, because that's all any of us want and everything all of us deserves. Don't ever stop fighting the haters and the liars.
We've seen more wins than defeats, this past year. Hopefully, SCOTUS will rule in favor of Marriage Equality and the U.S. will join the 21st Century along with the 14 other countries who have embraced marriage rights for all their citizens.
More, anon. Prospero
*Don't even say what you're thinking, perv!
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