Thursday, April 26, 2018

What A Fucking Bitch!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                          Colleen Campbell may not be as bad as whom I call the "Kiss My Fuckin' Ass Subway Bitch," but this skank thing from Philly is enough to be named this week's winner of The Raving Queen Bitch Of The Week Award.

                             Just look at the attitude on that face!  You can tell she is a bitch, from the get go!

                            This mother ho', would you believe is a graduate in Journalism, from Temple?  I almost went there for the same thing, back in the Seventies.  Shows how low their standards have come to admit garbage like this.  Colleen is no graduate of Miss Porter's or some Chestnut Hill Main Liner.  She main lines, all right!  She probably was raised among prostitutes on the streets of Kensington, amid crack vials and pipes!  Who the hell do you think you are, Colleen!

                             And this tramp bargained her way into Channel PHL-17, for a first job that her behavior one Sunday eve, outside a bar in Center City, which she patronized and then drank herself into a stupor, but not enough to knock her out, got her eventually fired from!!!!!!!! All this started back on the evening of June 4, 2017!  When a cop confronts her on her behavior, what does she do?  She tells him to lick her A-hole, calls him a cocksucker, and I would not be surprised if some racial epithets were hurled!  Real classy, bitch!!!!!!!

                            Miss Wrong Side Of The Tracks is not so high and mighty now, is she??????  Hey, Colleen, why don't you team up with that other piece of garbage, Rose McGowan, and do an a bitch rant!  What else have got to do, anyway??????????

                             Now, darlings, I hear Colleen has said she has been getting death threats, over this.
That is going a bit too far.  Her A-hole behavior is not heinous enough to merit death; just a night in jail or a padded cell for making a fool of herself!!!!!!!!!!!!

                               Congrats, Colleen, on being a first class bitch!

                                How does it feel to be out bitched by a bitch???????????????

                                Take a look at this piece of trash!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wednesday, April 25, 2018

Now, Here Is A Haunting Sight!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                           With "Carousel" now back on Broadway, my fascination with abandoned amusement parks, or attractions, has been revived.  I don't know where this was, but how enticing is the design.  It makes me want to walk into it, right now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                             There should be a museum for such things.  From all over the world!  Now, there is a project I would love to work on!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                               This Devil looks so much fun!   Who could resist him?

                                We might come out, looking like Barbara Steels, as Asa, girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Corporatization Of Manhattan Has Made It Difficult For Individuals To Come Here, And Re-Invent Themselves!!!!!!!!!!

                                   Like Blanche Du Bois, Rollerena, doyenne of the Manhattan camp tier social scene in the Eighties and Nineties, was the embodiment of self-invention.  I always thought--and still do--that he is, secretly, my move mad friend, Harvey.  The other rumor I have heard is that Rollerena was some downtown Wall Streeter.  What a joke on corporate America that would be.

                                     But there is no room for jokes and senses of humor anymore, because Manhattan has become such a corporate beehive where its denizens take themselves SO seriously, they might as well have sticks up their asses.  And I could name you several, who do!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                       What ever happened to Rollerena?????????  If you lived here, during the Eighties or Nineties, you were privy to a sighting.  But now, where has she gone?  Is she even still alive?

                                          Worse yet, I know there are aspiring Rollerenas, or those who yearn for self-invention, out there, but Manhattan culture does not allow for such at this point in time.  In some ways, we are back to the era of 'Streetcar' where any expression of individuality is branded as insanity, with those confined, like Blanche, to institutions.

                                            Well, I say, listen to Blanche.  "Don't hang back with the brutes!"  Times change, the pendulum will swing, and those honchos who think they are so on top of the world are going to topple and fall.  It is something to hope for!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                              May I live to see the re-emergence of Rollerena!  This sort of spirited vivacity is desperately needed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You Didn't Know Blanche, As A Girl! No One Was As Tender Or Trusting, As She Was! But People Like You Abused Her, And Forced Her To Change!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                                 The recent exhibit, on Tennessee Williams, at the Morgan, got me to thinking not only about Blanche, 'Streetcar', and the two women who embody the role--Jessica Tandy and Vivien  Leigh--but all the Blanches still out there, which I sometimes include myself among.

                                  So, let us discuss this.  There is not much to go on regarding Tandy's performance, except photos, and 29 minute series of excerpts to be heard on You Tube,

                                   These photos illustrate the heartbreak of Blanche.  Tandy is less attractive than Leigh, so she comes off as more faded, more damaged, as an unattractive spinster falls into the clutches of alcoholism and nymphomania--before being destroyed, in calculated fashion, by her brother-n-law.  Look at the heartbreak on Tandy's face. She is in glorious character as the broken Blanche, and her performance must have been shattering.

                                     Now, Vivien Leigh's attractiveness would draw the men Blanche craved, but in the end, she knew she was being used. She thinks she is in control, which, is why, at the close, her Blanche seems to have more strength.  By the time she walks through that room a final time, she has eyes for no one but the doctor.  Though Kazan turns his camera on the sadness of Mitch, who shares complicity in her destruction, she has no idea he exists.  And, when the camera goes around the corner, past the Four Deuces, Blanche is seen, almost resigned and accepting to what lies before her. Which makes her even more tragic than Tandy--once Blanche arrives at the mental hospital, what is there left of life for her?  Vivien's Blanche makes viewers wonder how things continued for her after the story's end.

                                   Stella is also a tragic figure.  There is no doubt in my mind that she knows Blanche is telling the truth--that Stanley raped her sister.  But she is as trapped as Blanche--and with a baby yet!!!!!!!!!!  Blanche had no place to go, but was on her own.  Stella would have faced the same, but with a baby--and consider the time of the story!!!!!!!!!!  Both sisters caught in a trap, set for both, by Stanley!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                     Am I Blanche?  I wonder.  As Vivien Leigh drives off in the car, there is a semblance of Scarlett's strength, seen in those eyes, that will enable her to deal with what she must.  Sometimes I think I have that, myself, but sometimes I am as fearful about being left alone as Blanche is, and having to face the realities of a corporatized world I simply do not approve of.  Like Blanche, I simply will not "hang back with the brutes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                                     And yes, when young, I was as tender and trusting as Blanche.  I never  lost my capacity to love, but what happened to that innocent lad who believed in the goodness of everything, until around junior high???????????   Did I become stronger?  Or weaker?

                                      I wrote, awhile back, about being Savannah Wingo in "The Prince Of Tides," a true descendant of Blanche.  Maybe it is not so much my being them, as knowing where they have come from.  I have empathy for both characters, and have experienced, in smallest similarities what they have experienced.  Similarities, to a degree, we all, more or less, share.

                                     Now Savannah, despite the suicide attempts, finds strength, just as Vivien's Blanche is seen summoning the strength to deal with what is at hand.  They are survivors.  In some ways, I feel that I am, too.  But I don't like my survivorship being tested!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                      Blanche's most heartbreaking line is in her monologue about Allen Grey,, when she says "And then the searchlight which had been turned on the world was turned off again, and never, for once moment since has there been any light that's stronger than this kitchen candle."  Blanche lost more than Allen; she lost her capacity to love, in one act of cruelty, which she can never forgive herself for, and has deprived her of the capacity to love.

                                       I have never lost that capacity.  My heart goes out to Blanche.  I have actually seen, someone, a childhood friend, not unlike she, disintegrate before my eyes.

                                        I pray I have the courageous Blanche in me, and not the self-destructive one!!!!!!!!!!!


Time To Welcome A New Reader, Girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                          Always glad to have a new reader on board.  I have no idea of whom that may be, so I will just call said individual No. 72, as the follower indicator now is up to that number.

                         The year has been a rough one, what with my father's passing, so I will try not to go all Joan Didion.  There is still plenty of gossip, fashion, and camp, to discuss.  If you peruse the last couple months, I think you will see I have tried my best to maintain a balance!!!!!!!!!!!!

                          And, of course this blog goes great, with coffee.  I never write, without it!!!!!!!!!!

                           So, welcome, No. 72, feel free to comment, and now, this blog's unofficial theme song!!!!!!!!!!!


Tuesday, April 24, 2018

What The Hell Is A Chocolate Brazilian Wax?????????????????

                         On my way to the D train platform, around the corner from the Waverly Diner, in the Village today, I passed a spa offering this--a Chocolate Brazilian Wax.  Now, hons, I was not born yesterday, but just what the hell is it?  Is it some kind of sex fetish thing, where you get to lick the chocolate off you, or the one who gives it to you.

                          How fresh is that chocolate?????????  And how hot does that wax get?  It could sting and itch, at the same time.  Not to mention feeling your body is chocolate covered all day.

                           I have to admit, it sounds intriguing.  But, girls, if you really want a chocolate experience, stick with mine--licking the pudding remainder from the bowl, with a spoon!!!!!!!!!!!

                            Lots more fun, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh, God! I Almost Forgot What Day It Was!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                             How could I not blog in, and let readers know today is BARBRA's birthday??????????  She has seen better days, still sounds good, and is with us, at 76,  Mr. Brolin has his work cut our for him today, as BARBRA stuffs an entire tube of coffee ice cream!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                              Get out your vinyl, CD's, or DVD's.  "Funny Girl," "Hello, Dolly!<" or what ever you desire.  Even if is "Enough Is Enough," with Donna Summer!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                Here is Camp BARBRA, mugging it up with Louis Armstrong, who very nearly steals the moment from her!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 Enjoy!  This should be declared a Gay National Holiday!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                  Someday, it will be!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Monday, April 23, 2018

I Want My Own Collection Of Legionaire Stauetttes!!!!!!!!! With The Sixties Costumes I Remember!!!!!!!!!!!!

                            Color reigned supreme in the DC Comics of my Sixties childhood.  And it was never put into better use than in designing the costumes for the Legion Of Super-Heroes!!!!!!!!!!

                              Back when he was in Smallville, Superboy had all these statues in his basement. When they all lit up, that meant he was being summoned to the 30th Century, to help the legion with an assignment.

                               I most wanted to be Lightning Lad.  It was the combine of red hair, blue and orange and gold, and that cape!!!!!!!!!  And to have electric bolts flashing from my hands, at will.

                              But I went for the most colorful costumes, of course--Saturn Girl, Cosmic Boy (pink, darlings!!!!!!!!!), Element Lad (who was gay!), Sun Boy, and, of course, Saturn Girl!!!!!!!!!!

                               When the legion was modernized, it lost its charm.  And I loved Shrinking Violet's fashion green, and necklace!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 How I would love to these statuettes for myself!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 But, then, Baby Gojira might get jealous.  No one is as colorful as he!!!!!!!!!!!!

Did Cucumbo Invent The Drone??????????????????

                            I always thought Cucumbo, the star of the 1956 classic, "It Conquered The World," defied gender.  Sure, there was these things coming out from under his veggie dress, but if the creature had been female, it would have been named "Cucumbette!"

                             But, really, look at this baby thing.  The eyes suggest a baby Cucumbo, and while it may look cute here, there is nothing cute about when it flies into action.

                              Which caused me to notice the resemblance to today's drones, and wondered--were they invented by Cucumbo????????????

                                Poor Cucumbo!  If any monster on the AIP lot deserved a second movie, it was he!!!!!!!!!!!!  And now, no royalties, for having invented the drone!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 Cucumbo, you wuz robbed!  File a lawsuit immediately!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sunday, April 22, 2018

The REAL Bitch, In "Blood Of Dracula," Is Doris!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                         "Blood Of Dracula," AIP's 1957 camp classic of girlish high jinks, which should really have been titled "I Was A Teenage Vampire," would definitely be one film I would feature on my "Spook Show" lineup.

                            It opens with a hoot, almost parodying those social service films of the Fifties.  A car is en route, taking Nancy Perkins, who has just lost her mother, six months before, to a girls private school, a real lesbo enclave, run by a Miss Thorndyke (Wink! Wink!).  Sandra Harrison, the frumpy, over aged teen in the yellow rain slicker, tries to run the car off the road.

                             Her father slaps her, and slutty Doris, played brilliantly by Jean Dean, delivers the film's opening line--"Give her another one!"

                             Doris is as cheap as they come.  Hey, she's appearing in an AIP film, so that is cheap, for starters. You can bet her jewels and fur are fake.  But not her slutty voice, and her round heels attitude.  Doris wants Nancy ditched, so she can drain Daddy of everything.  It is not clear if she was a secretary, or some floozy in a sleazy bar.  I would go with the latter.  She has the class and manners of one.

                               It is a pity Doris disappears from the scene, after Nancy lands at school. Because once repressed lesbian Chemistry teacher, Miss Branding, played by Louise Lewis, resident bitch until Louise Fletcher came along, turns Nancy into a stylishly glam vampire monster, with the most fabulous make-up this side of Elizabeth Arden, I would have loved to have seen Nancy, in monster form, confront Doris, and the two go at each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Bet Doris would have ended up in some back alley, which she was destined for!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                               But, honestly, girls, when it comes to bitches, this film almost outdoes itself!!!!!!!!!

                                What a hoot Jean Dean is, as Doris!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                  The Bitch Meter on this film is definitely off the charts!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Good News, Girls!!!!!!!!!!!!! Amy Is Coming Back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                           Now, I don't exactly know when, as the scripts have not been written, or the cameras turned on.  And I wonder what kind of outfits Amy will wear!!!!!!!!!!!

                            But the magical enchantment that was "At Home With Amy Sedaris," courtesy of Amy Sedaris, has been renewed for a second season.  And while it has only committed itself to ten episodes, that is ten times the Amy we are getting now.  Say "thank you" to Tru TV!!!!!!!!!!

                              I cannot wait to see Amy.  But I also cannot wait to see Patty Hogg, Nutmeg, The Lady Who Lives In The Wood, and Esther!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                               So, keep an eye out for Amy, dolls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                               Talent like hers cannot be kept down!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I Just Love Jake, The Dog, On The "Seresto" Commericial!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                               Jake is the latest commercial performer to capture my heart. He is so cute.  He just loves bringing neighbors' trophies to his owner.

                                He looks almost as sweet as my Cujo!!!!!!!!!  If only Cujo had gotten this job.  He could do it!

                                But Jake is so adorable.  Who wouldn't love him?

                                 He has a big career ahead of him!

                                 Maybe he could appear with Amy Sedaris!  Or Colbert!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 Here is an excerpt with Jake.  Seresto should put diamonds on its flea collars!!!!!!!!!

Wish We Could All Look This Good, Talking On The Phone, Girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                            That, of course, is Gloria Grahame.  I don't know the movie this is from, but who cares, when she looks this good?

                               I try my best to look this way whenever I chat on the phone, but sometimes it is hard for us mortals who aren't Gloria.  Truth to tell, girls, I am glad land line phones don't have features where we can be seen.  I would look less like Gloria, and more like a nightmare!

                                 But the truth is, it would cut down on phone sex, revealing truths no civilized person would want to see?  Like geriatrics getting their jollies?????????  Ewwwwwwwwwww!!!!!!!!!

                                  No, I will stick to looking like Gloria!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                  And those shoes!  Aren't they fabulous???????

                                 But, then, Gloria had the legs to go with them!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"The Story Goes That Grandma Was Best/At Shootin' Bullets Off A Rustler's Vest/Shootin' Bullets Off A Rustler's Vest!!!!!!!"

                             Ah, the carefree innocence of Saturday night Sixties TV.  Remember "Pistols 'N' Petticoats," darlings?

                             It ran from 1966-67, with its lead star, Ann Sheridan, appearing in only 23 episodes. as the actress succumbed to cancer, before the show was canceled.  Ruth McDevitt, the store owner from "The Birds," played Grandma, the subject of those brilliant lyrics--the kind theme songs don't have, anymore--and outlived Sheridan!!!!!!!!!!!!

                              The connection was "Petticoat Junction," which was the better and more successful of the two.  This would follow right after--or maybe before--'Junction," but had the connection of "Petticoats."

                                How I wanted to be Lori Saunders as Bobbie Jo Bradley on the other show, peeking out of that water tank on a hot Summer's day!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 But this second show was fun. Almost like "Annie Get Your Gun," minus the music.

                                Here is the opening credits, and theme song, to this overlooked classic!


Saturday, April 21, 2018

Trash, With A Twist!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                             I love the deceptive simplicity of the cover art for this novel.  It sets the tone for the novel within.

                                              The Cavendishes are a wealthy, London based family.  Their marriage is dysfunctional, but they plow along.  The reader soon learns Laura has suffered two traumas in her life--the death of her beloved cocker spaniel, as a child, and the premature death of the couple's first child, Rose, only  days after she was born.  So, when she feels granted a second chance, with the birth and life of her son, Daniel, she holds onto him almost as fiercely as Mrs. Bates, in "Psycho."  Although this is not apparent on the surface.  Nothing is.  Which makes this novel so interesting.

                                               Now, contrast this family with the Laines, who live in a town called Croydon, sort of a British Goat Alley!!!!!!!!!!!  Wendy, a middle-aged mother, works in a supermarket, and does the best she can.  However, her daughter, who calls herself Cherry, though it is never learned what her real name is, resents, like Haley Sadler, on 'SVU,' who she is, and where she comes from.  Which she tells her mother to her face!  And slaps her!  I felt so sad for Wendy.

                                               Cherry manages to talk her way into a posh real estate office near the Cavendish residence.  This is not intentional, but when she and Daniel finally cross paths, and sparks fly, everything is intentional on Cherry's part.  But her behavior cannot be proven, at least to  the characters.

                                                Before one can say "Fatal Attraction," the novel deviates when Laura, the  mother, makes a pivotal decision, and everything is turned on its head.  This is a page turner that adds a bit of the unpredictable to what is, on the surface, a very predictable story.  By the time the climax is reached, who is good  or evil becomes blurred.

                                                  This was such fun, girls.  But, at the end, I felt sorry for son, Daniel.

                                                   Though a grown man, and a med student, it looks like he is doomed to play Oedipus to her Jocasta!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


What Happened To Kerri, The Original Sparkle Fairy???????????????

                               I just loved the original actress playing Kerri, the Sparkle Fairy, on those paper towel commercials.  The original actress, whom I just loved, but whose name I do not know, was perfect, and I loved her.  Her New York blend of sauciness and Borscht Belt routine was priceless, and I loved it.  And I am sure it helped to sell the product.

                               But, in today's age of processed crap, where most consider Velveeta to be as elitist a cheese as brie, the manufacturers of Sparkle had to discard the original actress, casting, in her place, a bland, processed thing, who bores me to tears, and will do nothing for the product.

                                How dare such a good thing is ruined???????????

                                Listen, you boobs, bring back the Original Sparkle Fairy!!!!!!!!!!!!
                                 Or, I will get Christina Hendricks, as Joan, on "Mad Men," after you!  You would not want to mess with HER!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                  It would be worse than messing with ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What Bitch Would Dare Disfigure Gloria Grahame????????????????

                                 Only Lee Marvin, of course!  How an essentially B-list actor lands in a role, years later, that was not more than a B-comedy Western--and win him an Oscar--is beyond me!!!!!!!!

                                  My David was watching "The Big Heat," the other day, in which the glamorous Gloria Grahame gets coffee thrown in her face!!!!!!!!!!  Or, at least, one side of it!!!!!!!!!  See what he did!   The sadist!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                   If I were Gloria, I would have thrown another brew right back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                   I didn't see the end, but I hope Lee gets his outcome!!!!!!!!!!!

                                   No one messes with Gloria, girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And Speaking Of Tennessee Williams, Darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                         Yesterday, David and I (David having the day off) went to the Morgan Museum, to see the exhibit we had been longing to see, entitled "Tennessee Williams--No Refuge But Writing."

                          We were fortunate enough to arrive at 1PM, just as a talk about the exhibit was being given by one Carolyn Vega, who works for the museum as an associate in the Literature And Manuscripts Department.  She was scholarly, chirpy, in that New Age female curatorial way, which is an improvement on the Gorgonesque spinsters of old. You know, the cookie cutter assembly line resembling the librarian/archivist in "Citizen Kane."

                          I am not sure the fault is hers, or hers entirely, but David and I were disappointed at the exhibition's limitations.  Its arc, which I thought misguided, concerned the evolution of his play "Battle Of Angels" into what we Williams aficionados  now know as "Orpheus Descending."  Which, even in its final form, is not top tier Williams.

                          I could not grasp the fascination of this particular piece.  And even so, nothing about the character who enlivens the play; indeed, in every incarnation of it I have seen, walks off with it--Carol Cutrere, played in the original production of 'Orpheus' by the divine Lois Smith.

                         To be sure, his two most signature works, "The Glass Menagerie," and "A Streetcar Named Desire," were well represented, but nothing about how they evolved.  'Menagerie' started as a short story Williams wrote, which I have read, called "Portrait Of A Girl In Glass," while 'Streetcar.' which, at one point had the title, "Blanche's Chair On The Moon," evolved from a one-act play of Williams' entitled "Portrait Of A Madonna," featuring a deranged spinster at the end of tether named, Miss Lucretia Collins.  It was like a rough draft of 'Streetcar's' final scene.  And how an actor named Hume Cronyn, directed his actress wife, Jessica Tandy, in it, and talked Williams into coming to California, to see this performance, which is how he found his Blanche Du  Bois.  But was any of this mentioned?  No!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                      No "Summer And Smoke," "Sweet Bird Of Youth," or "Night Of The Iguana."

                      Honestly, darlings, we expected so much more.  If Miss Lucy had seen it, she would have written something then and there, I can tell you.

                      As for Blanche/Jessica/Vivien, they would have been appalled.  Walking through this, they would have uttered, not Blanche's iconic line about depending on the kindness of strangers, but, in a Mae West type voice, the less prosaic, "Don't mind me, boys!  I'm just passin' through!!!!!!!!!!"

                      Tennessee Williams deserves better.  And you should have seen the patrons!

                       Many resembled the most grotesque characters out of Williams and Carson McCullers!!!!!!!!!!

                         Or, maybe, that was just part of the exhibit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Word On The Street Is, Lauren Can't Cut It!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                               My favorite moment, in "Sweet Bird Of Youth," by Tennessee Williams, is when Miss Lucy walks into the gas station rest room and writes, on the mirror, in lipstick, "Boss Finley can't cut the mustard!"

                               I wish I had some lipstick, because I might sneak into the Beaumont rest room, and write the same about Lauren Ambrose in "My Fair Lady."   Not that I am surprised.

                              I have every intention of seeing this show, but, when the word I have heard from theater friends is mute, a showcasing video contains not a second of any of the actors singing a note, the ball gown looks as if it was leftovers from a production of "RAGS," and the general visual look of photos I have seen, suggests, not the elegant confection the show should be, but a dark version, as if "My Fair Lady" were morphing into "Sweeney Todd," things have gone from bad to worse!!!!!!!!!

                              What hell, hath Bartlett Sher, that great big old closet case, and one-time insurer of musical theater triumphs, wrought on  us now?

                                I don't get his obsession with Ambrose.  He tried to bring her to Broadway in "Funny Girl," but after her rendition of "My Man" went on YouTube, forget it!!!!!!!!!!  Now, no one gets to hear her sing till they pay for a ticket. Shrewd, Bartlett!  But then you ruin the audience, by holding them captive!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 Well, I have some news for you, girls!!!!!!!!!  Keep a careful eye on this production.  Because, I believe, history will repeat itself.  Forty years ago, Harold Prince's brilliant musical, "On The Twentieth Century," opened, at the St. James Theatre.  I saw it late in previews, so the show was pretty frozen.  Kevin Kline was guaranteed the stardom he earned, John Cullum was magnificent--he and Madeline Kahn singing "Our Private World" gave me chills!!!!--but Madeline, as the show went on, I could tell was not up to the vocal demands of the role.  She was straining already, so I knew she would not make it through the run.  And history was made for Judy Kaye.

                                  Kerstin Anderson is Ambrose's understudy in "My Fair Lady."  Keep an eye on her.  I think she will be playing the role more and more, until.....well, you  know the rest!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                  Lauren and Bartlett will be banished to the Isle Of Whatever Became Of....?"

                                  I could be wrong.  I don't like eating humble pie, but, from an artistic viewpoint, I would love to be wrong.  But, somehow, I don't think so!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                   As Miss Lucy would say, Lauren Ambrose can't cut the mustard!!!!!!!!!!!!

What To Do About Reading Malaise???????????????

                                    As I have remarked, girls, in spite of my father's passing, I have been able to read.  Immersing myself in a book enables me to escape pain, for awhile.  Better than hillbilly heroin, dolls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                     It had been so long since I bought "What To Do About The Solomons," that I thought maybe it was a thriller about a family who had been murdered. When I read the back jacket, and saw one reviewer compared it to one of my favorite books, Jane Smiley's "A Thousand Acres," I knew this is what intrigued me enough to buy it.

                                      I have to learn to avoid hype.  There is nothing remarkable about this book.

                                      One could call it a family saga.  But, at only 243 pages, it is the most abbreviated one I have ever read.  The Solomons are continental; some live in Israel, some in New York.  Honestly, I couldn't get excited about any of them, except Carolyn, who, while her husband Marc's business empire is crumbling around him, and the family finances being ruined, adopts a "Belle De Jour" like existence, and, like Catherine Deneuve, in that classic film, spends her days working as a prostitute.  This most interesting aspect of the plot, which should have been explored more, is dropped.  Marc whines, there is a gay son who is estranged, the American and Israeli branches do not see eye to eye--who cares?  Even the last sentences suggest the author has the same contempt for the story she has written; her first novel, by the way. After asking the titular question, the last sentence suggests they will simply take care of themselves.

                                       So, what was the point?  Why should we care?  And Bethany, dear, if this got you published, I'd hate to see your rejects.  In fact, Bethany Ball makes the most disappointing literary debut I have read in ages.  So much so I would tend to avoid her future efforts.  She might write a book of the year--hope springs eternal.  But, on the basis of this book, I don't see that happening.

                                        Of course, the deeper problem is that much of what I read, and maybe this is due to my emotions at the time, fail to engage me completely.  I don't have the urge to re-read one of my faves, so that is not the answer.  What I am looking for--and if it is out there, girls, let me know!!!!!--is a book that will awaken the sense of awe and wonder I felt when reading "Wuthering Heights," "Middlemarch," or "The Secret History," for the first time.

                                       Nevertheless, the reading will go on!  And when I find the magic again, I will let you know!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thursday, April 19, 2018

Hey, Cats!!!!!!!!!!! Dig This! Time To Bring Back The Spook Show!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                             My favorite sequence in the 1958 film "The Blob" is the one in the movie theater.  It is Saturday night, and the kids are all at a midnight screening of the 1955 film "Daughter Of Horror," (sometimes known as "Dementia") where the demons are emerging from Hell, and Ed McMahon (Yes!!!!!!!!!!) is narrating it.  As Steve McQueen and Aneta Corsaut arrive, one of the kids says to them, "Hey, I thought you cats didn't dig the Spook Show?"  Then, comes the Blob attack, as it squeezes into, and out of, the theater!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                             What ever happened to the Midnight Spook Show????????  I am not talking about overly screened presentations of "The Rocky Horror Show," with genuine amateurs making community theater look less professional than it actually is, but the time when real, obscure trash would be shown as cheap, campy entertainment!!!!!!!!!!!

                                I can recall a time in the Sixties, when reading the movie section of the Newark News was the highlight of my day!  Now, back then, Newark was even sleazier than today, and it had some real theater dives!  I guess I would call them grind houses!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Yet, for all their trashiness, they were an art form, in and of themselves!

                                 There was a midnight program I recall vividly. It was at one of these cheap houses, on a Friday or Saturday night.  The program was billed as a "Four Hour Horrorama," beginning at midnight.  The four features were the 1956 "The Hunchback Of Notre Dame," with Anthony Quinn and Gina Lollobrigida, (Go Figure!) 1958's "The Bride And The Beast,"
  and two favorites of mine, which I had seen already--"The Giant Behemoth," from 1959, and "Daughter Of Dr. Jekyll," from 1957.

                                    Of course, I was not allowed to attend.  And, at the age I am now, I am not so sure I could stay awake, during a midnight show!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                     But what if trash like this were brought back, and the Spook Show concept reinvented? It might get myself, and others my age, out at night, and introduce a whole new generation to artful trash!  Better than the real trash they are exposed to right now!!!!!!!!

                                       Of course, I know, any one of us, thanks to DVD's, could simply set up a program, and have people over to watch, especially at midnight!  But wouldn't it be more fun in a cheap, sleazy, theatrical venue?  And, no, I am not talking about some peoples' apartments!!!!!!!!!!
I am talking about the real thing!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                      I even know someone who would make a brilliant programmer, and he knows whom I am talking to!!!!!!!!!!!!  So, let's find a venue, and start programming!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                    You cats will dig it the most, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"So Sad, She Forgot The Off! Egad, She Forgot The Off!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                           Remember that prosaic lyric, darlings?????????????

                           I know it seems Winter will never let go, especially for those of us living in the Metropolitan area, but Summer will eventually come, so it is time to think about arming yourselves with OFF.  How the Beales of Grey Gardens were able to fend off the West Nile Virus, I will never know.  Nerves of steel, those women!

                             Or maybe mosquitoes know enough not to bite the Upper Crust!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                             For the rest of us, girls, it is time to stock up. Because those pesky things will be out before you know it, and if you think the Winter does a number on the skin, Summer almost has it beat.  Especially as we show more of it.

                             So, let's get OFF now, while we can, and beat the Summer Rush!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                              You'll be glad, not sad, you did!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Welcome Back, Stephanie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                           The 'SVU' episode, last night, was called "Sunk Cost Fallacy," but I could have cared less.  What counted for last night, and I am sure I am not alone here, was the return of Stephanie March as retired ADA Alex Cabot.

                            Stephanie looked great.  And Alex was powerful.

                             And she is the Alex I would so like to be.  As much as I advocate against the White Supremacists, child and spouse abusers, I do nothing beyond posting on here.  Alex, who began volunteering at a women's shelter--it was not established where she is now living--has joined an underground rogue network involved in getting abused women and children away from spouses who are cunning or wealthy enough to get away with it.  Even if it means staging fake deaths.

                            Which is what happened last night. And when Olivia and Alex clashed, and downy dog Olivia gives that old adage about not breaking the law, I applauded when Alex bust out, "Why the hell not?"  Passion was back on 'SVU," in Stephanie March's heated performance.  Philip Winchester, as Peter Stone, doesn't stand a chance, against her!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                              Alex should look into the whole Noah situation.  Now, there is a story!!!!!!!!!

                              It was like the show got a blood transfusion, last  night, thanks to Stephanie March!!!!!!!!!

                              And when she walked into the mist, last night, at the end, I fervently prayed she would come back.

                              In just one appearance, Stephanie demonstrated both what is wrong with the show, and how to remedy it.

                              Bring back Alex,  and her transfused passion, and eliminate the I-don'--give-a-shit chronicling of Olivia!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                             As a Stephanie advocate, I say BRAVO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Sick White Supremacist Bitches!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                             Recently, a commentator on one of my ID posts, voiced White Supremacist views, to which I suggested he retreat back into his trailer where he lives with his mother, and piss across the room, into a beer can, on a cluttered coffee table, while staring at the Confederate flag posted on the wall in front of him.

                              To a point, I was being sarcastic.  But, when finished reading my post on the Williams Brothers-this week's winners of The Raving Queen Bitch Of The Week Award--readers will see I was more truthful than I thought.

                                 The brothers came, interestingly, not from the South, or Staten Island, but Palo Cedro, California.  Hey, the state housed the Manson Family, why not White Supremacists??????

                                Matthew and Tyler Williams were losers from the start.  They were raised in a fundamentalist Christian household--mistake number one!--where neighbors said they heard sermons and religious music loud enough to be heard outside.

                                 Interestingly, the boys were not dumb.  Until high school, they were home schooled--mistake number two!!!!!!!!!!!  Of course, their parents espoused White Supremacist views, so I was surprised to hear they went to high school.  And were honor students?  In what?  Vocational Ed?

                                  Matthew, the more dominant of the two, actually made it to the University of Idaho.  In high school, the boys' parents prohibited them from participating in extracurricular activities.  Matthew, in college, became a real horn dog, serving a stint in the Navy, and fooling around with a woman named Kimberly Rodgers.  The two had a daughter, but the couple went their separate ways, as Kimberly refused to marry him.

                                    Smart move, Kimberly!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                     While at Idaho, Matthew fell in with a group called the Living Faith Fellowship.  Now, get this, girls!  He became so obsessed with what was called diet purification he would inspect both his and his brother's bowel movements, each day!  Sick, right!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                       This shows some deep seated, repressed interests. Makes me wonder if the two had an incestuous relationship!!!!!!!!!!!

                                         According to their father's proclamation of it being "God's orders," the family moved to Redding, CA.  Here, Matthew lost interest in the Living Faith Fellowship, and took up White Supremacy and anti-Semitism!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  But he did not lose interest in bowel movement inspection!!!!!!!!!  Oh, no!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                         Armed with this political rhetoric, Matthew, who, some said, had homosexual leanings, and his completely dominated brother, Tyler,  went on a crime spree.  On June 18, 1999, they set fire to three Sacramento synagogues--Congregation B'nai Israel, Congregation Beth Shalom, and Knesset Israel Torah Center!!!!!!!!!!!  They were charged with these acts of arson on March 17, 2000, as well as the July 2, 1999 fire of the County Club Medical Center, which contained an abortion clinic within its walls.

                                        But the piece de resistance came on July 1, 1999.  As far as the fires went, no one was killed.  But that stopped on July 1, 1999, when the brothers murdered, in their beds, a local gay couple, Gary Madson and Winfield Mower, whom the boys knew through association within the community of their landscaping business. Apparently, the couple also worked in the field.

                                        The brothers knew the couple was gay, and, apparently, that was enough to justify their killing them.  They broke out into the couples' home in--get this!!!!!--Happy Valley, CA, and shot them, in bed, while they slept. Neither had a chance!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                         The brothers, in September of 2001, were sentenced to prison for the arson. Matthew got 30 years, while Tyler got 21.  But trouble followed them.

                                         On November 17, 2002, Matthew hanged himself in his cell.  Two days before the suicide, Matthew mailed a note to Tyler's lawyer, insisting he was responsible for killing "the two perverts!"  Look who is calling the kettle black!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                          Tyler was ultimately given a 50 year sentence--the 21 years for the arson, plus another 29 for the murders of Matson and Mowder.  Too bad the case did not go to trial.  He might have gotten the death penalty!!!!!!!!!!!!  Which I would have advocated!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                           Scum like this exists everywhere.  These sick siblings are where they belong--one, at least, dead.  The other will never see the light of day!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                            Sick, scatological things!  You were the REAL perverts, bitches!!!!!!!!!!

Oh, My God!!!!!!!!!!! Will Celia Be Performing In Federal Court?????????????????

                               It may be the only chance she gets, darlings.  The lawsuit over the proposed Broadway production of "To  Kill A Mockingbird," scheduled in open in December, and featuring Celia, as, I suppose, an adult Scout, is slugging it out in the courts.

                               The Harper Lee estate, whom I agree with, maintains Aaron Sorkin's adaptation takes too many liberties with the work, so that what emerges is not, actually, "To Kill A Mockingbird."

                                 Christoper Sergel wrote another adaptation years ago.  It is done regionally, but never saw the lights of Broadway.  There must have been a reason.  Like, no one wanted to tamper with their memories of what is just about a perfect movie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                  Sorkin must be competing with Lin Manuel Miranda for biggest ego on Broadway.  Now, a judge says he wants to see the production staged in a federal court....before he makes a decision!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                   Does that mean all Celia fans, including myself, will descend on Washington, D. C.???????????  It is a great idea, but my bet is no one will be admitted to the proceedings.

                                    Poor Celia.  I wonder if she was seen for "Carousel?" She would have made a fabulous Carrie Pipperidge!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                    Too bad you didn't go with that one, Celia!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tuesday, April 17, 2018

Time To Get In Shape, Darlings!!!!!!!!!!! I Want To Be A Wildwood Girl!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                               Just look at the form and artistry, in this photo.  Ah, those carefree days of my childhood innocence.

                                How I would have LOVED to have been a Wildwood girl!  Look at all the fun they are having!  And those Summer fashions!  And hairstyles!  Oh, my God!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                So, let's update to the present, with an astute group of male aquatics, pecked out in all their bodily beauty, clad in skin tight Speedos, accentuating those rounded butts, and front appendages practically bursting at the seams!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 Wouldn't that be enticing, darlings????????????  I am telling you, it would bring back the days of Connie Francis!  Or, at least, Moon Doggie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                  Uhm..........Moon Doggie!  Can't wait!

                                  Maybe I will see you at Wildwood, this Summer!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It's Like Tama Janowitz....Minus The Wit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                  "Neon In Daylight," Hermione Hoby's debut novel, is almost too straightforward for its own good.  In chronicling a group of disparate characters--Kate, a girl from London visiting New York to find herself, during the Summer and Fall several years back, Bill, a washed up writer who wrote a novel that had a success comparable to, say, "The Corrections," only the novel is never fully titled or described, and his trampy, Hispanic drug pushing daughter, Inez, who also does dominatrix scenes with this guy.  Just an ordinary array of New Yorkers, East Village style.  And Brooklyn.

                                      Then there is Casey, Bill's friend, a geriatric who calls himself a "fuckin' faggot." It is never made clear whether is he dying from AIDS or just old age malaise, but his birthday party, which climaxes the book, is worth wading through the rest for.

                                        Not that there is anything overall wrong with this book.  Just that many of us readers have trod these paths before.  And will so again.  Janowitz' wit made her work definitive, catching the tenor of the times.  If Hoby was going for apathy, she failed, because her characters are too fully realized, but her book has no particular style, or point of view.

                                        Her true genius is where and how she chooses to end the book, which I will not deprive anyone here of.  But it is a clever move.

                                         For those like myself, who cannot get enough of New York novels, there is an audience for "Neon In Daylight."  If this is not your cup of tea, skip it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                         Let's see what Hoby does next.  She got this published, so someone out there must see something I don't.

                                         Still, I am willing to give her a chance!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Granny Get Your Gun!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                             Forget Granny porn, girls!  As repugnant as that may be--and just who are these women, anyway?--nothing compares to gun totin' Lois Riess, fresh from Midwest Minnesota--the town of Blooming Prairie--who is on the lam, and armed!

                             It is not even Thursday, but I feel like I am writing Bitch Of The Week. Actually, I have others in mind for that.  Lois is just a  crime novelty, a killer granny.  She shot her husband, David Riess, found dead in their home on March 23.  He was only 59.

                              Next, she heads to Florida, and plays a geriatric version of Jennifer Jason Leigh as Hedra Carlson in "Single White Female."  At the Smokin' Oyster Brewery--oh, my!!!!!!--in Fort Myers, Florida, she befriended a lookalike woman of her age, named Pamela Hutchinson.  She later killed her, stealing all forms of identification from the deceased's purse.

                              Now, "Granny Pam" is on the lam!  No apple pies from her!  Nor would I take one, if she offered it.

                               Those in deepest danger are middle aged women who bear a resemblance to her.

                                Her motives are unfathomable.  Is this early Alzheimer's?????????  A geriatric serial killer?

                               She has three grown children, who had better all lock their doors.  And she is a gambling addict.  Maybe that precipitated the spree.

                               I cannot wait to see ID handle this one!  Lois Smith would be great for a mainstream movie, but that divine actress would not do anything so trashy.

                               But I can tell you one thing!  Granny will go down in the dust, like Bonnie and Clyde!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Monday, April 16, 2018

Is "Cosi Fan Tutte" Now Set In Coney Island???????????????

                              I am no opera queen, darlings; they are just too vicious for me!  But I have to admit I am intrigued by the set I see for The Met's current staging of "Cosi Fan Tutte?"

                               All I know about the piece is that an opera written by Mozart.  I don't even know what the plot is.  But I have to admit the set grabs me.

                               If you look dead center, it can clearly be seen the smiling face resembles the Sideshow Face at Coney Island.  Look!
                           See?  So don't tell me this was not intentional!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                           It is so intentional that it makes me interested in seeing this production. I do not know how many performances are left--if any--or if Kelli O'Hara is in all of them, though she did perform in this production, but if I am successful, I will let you know.

                           I cannot resist carnival/amusement park set or themed stories!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                           Who can, darlings???????????????????????? 

Before Andrea McArdle Became "Annie," There Was Chuck McCann!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                Metropolitan area raised baby boomers, such as I, will recall Chuck McCann, the comedian and children's show host on Channel 11, where, on Sunday mornings, he would impersonate a series of comic strip characters from The New York Daily News, while reading the strips aloud.  Little Orphan Annie was his best, but he also excelled at Dondi, and Terry And The Pirates.

                                 To think, as kids we were getting drag, and did not know it.  Like Rocky And Bullwinkle, in some ways, McCann's kiddy show was ahead of its time and audience.

                                  But I loved it.  And him.

                                  There was much more to him, however; he could also, when called for, be a soulful actor. I shall never forget his moving performance as Spiros  Antonapoulos in the 1968 film version of Carson McCullers' deeply moving Southern Gothic novel, "The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter."  In it, McCann, who should have been nominated for an Oscar played the only friend of John Singer, a  deaf mute, played by Alan Arkin, who was nominated for a Best Actor Oscar.  McCann's character, a mentally challenged deaf mute, is being moved to an institution for more professional care, and so Singer moves to a small Southern town near the place, so he can visit him, and continue the friendship.  He becomes involved with all the people around him, including the landlords' daughter, Mick Kelly, played by a then 17-year-old Sondra Locke.  Who was nominated for an Oscar as Best Supporting Actress in what was her film debut.

                                   And the novel was McCullers' debut effort.  It established her franchise of writing about the lonely, the marginal, the deformed.  And in her world, things do not end happily.

                                    Everyone around Singer is touched  by him, and loves him.  But they never tell him; instead they come to him with their problems, not knowing the pain he bears.  Which culminates in a visit to the institution, where he learns his friend has passed away.  Broken and bereft, feeling totally alone, not knowing how much he is loved by those around him, he takes a gun, and ends his life.

                                    I can still recall the scene with Sondra Locke, weeping at his graveside.  I wept throughout the entire film, for all of the heart rending performances, the most surprising being Chuck McCann's.  I am not sure he ever did any more drama, but he made an indelible impact here.

                                    So, I was sad to learn of his death, on April 8, at 83.   Another icon of my generation passes.

                                     And did you know he was the voice of the bird on the famous "I'm cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs!" commercial????????????????

                                      Performers of such versatility are getting fewer and far between.

                                      Rest In Peace, Chuck McCann.  You touched an entire generation.

Sunday, April 15, 2018

What A Difference Forty Two Years Makes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                               Really, darlings, I had not seen "Network" since 1976, when I was a tender 21.  Last night, Channel 13 broadcast it, and, with "A Crime To Remember" not being aired, I watched, in rapt fascination.  The film not only holds up, the actors' performances are better than first realized, as was the prescience of Paddy Chayefksy's  screenplay, demonstrating today how closer we are to what he was writing about, than when he first did.

                               No, we don't have on camera executions yet, but we are not that far from there. That is, we are a lot closer to its actuality than when "Network" first predicted it. And how about Faye Dunaway, as Diana Christensen?  On one level, she is a hoot; on another, chilling note, the ascendancy of the Career Bitch Castrator evolving her issues into what has become the Me Too Movement, can be traced back to her performance here.  Chayefsky supposedly started writing this script in 1974, so the Dianas were already out there.  But it took Faye's performance to crystallize and unmask them, in the real life office world.  Where they still reside.  They are all about justification, by way of vagina!  Bullshit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                               Ned Beatty, as Arthur Hutchinson, is the other fascinating trope.  Was he a disciple of Ayn Rand, or what?  His brilliant speech on the dehumanization of the individual may sound like a plea for individuality, but if it is really listened to, it is pure advocacy. Which is why I was confused when Peter Finch, as Howard Beale, agreed to take on this message.  Up till then, I was with Beale all the way.  Why he pandered to this corporate shit indicated to me, as many said, he was on the brink of madness, and had now reached it.

                                 I had forgotten how truly brilliant and iconic Finch was as Howard Beale. In some ways, I see myself as an online Howard Beale, though I am not the least bit messianic.  There is a method to my madness, and points in what I say, however crazy they may seem.  And I am always aware of what I am writing.

                                   Finch's impassioned performance took my breath away.  The passion generated during his monologues, and his passing out, made me wonder if this was his routine, or real.  Especially, when, several months after wrapping up on "Network," the actor himself died of a heart attack, at the age of 60.  I wonder if the energy he had to summon to enact this part was responsible.

                                   How much of "Network" is commonplace today.  With Reality TV, where folks drink bugs concocted into a milkshake, and shows like "LOST" and "Survivor" earn ratings, and Kendra Wilkinson is some kind of female Howard Beale, how far away are we, really, from that on air execution????????????  Not very!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                    Gays may think they are accepted in the workplace, but they are not; they are marginalized.  Conformity is as rampant now, as the more glamorous Fifties, when people pretended courtesy, rather than enact the savages they are now! And they talk about political correctness??????
Hah!  Wait till the time comes--and it will--to tell MY story!!!!!!!!!!   Howard Beale, indeed!!!!!!!!!!

                                     It was appalling to me, in this so-called liberated age, that Channel 13 snipped the much talked about bedroom scene between William Holden and Faye Dunaway.  On screen it was a stunner, with Dunaway mounting him, and riding furiously in as inhuman a way as Debra Winger would ride that artificial bronco in "Urban Cowboy," several years later.  A pity, since the orgiastic moment, which stunningly bordered on the pornographic on screen, back in 1976, was a brilliant example of the female use of vaginal power, evolving into Career Bitchery and now the Me Too Movement.  I bet Rose McGowan owns this on DVD, and masturbates to it!

                                     By the way, the rumor was always out there, and still exists, that, for the only time in his career, William Holden admitted to losing his professional virginity.  That Faye must have been really revved up!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                   "Network," like "Nashville" the year before, is even more with it today, then when first released. A sad commentary on our society, where, today, such films could not be made.

                                      As I watched Beale's execution last night, and the film fade out, I wondered,
"Where are all the mavericks today?"  Why have they been silenced, and why is that silence allowed?

                                     Were Paddy Chaye-
fsky still alive, he might or not be surprised at how prescient his writing in "Network" was.

                                       Brilliant as the film is, its accuracy in today's world only saddens me!!!!!!!!!!