Farewell To July!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                            As far as I am concerned, July 2021 will forever be remembered by yours truly as the Month Of The Colonoscopy.

                                             Nevertheless,  I managed to do a lot  of reading, which I expect to report on here tomorrow.  And we got to visit, on two special occasions, with our friends Dan and Norma, and Joe, Davida,  and Kathy.  It ALMOST seemed like back to normal.

                                              Alas, procedure or not,  July was still a  month for taking precautions, to get  into that tiny window of enjoyment we could squeeze through.  Baby Gojira went from a Nurse Practitioner, to a Summer Fairy Princess.  With his little dog, Pippin, in his purse, as his medical assistant. They will be taking good care of us, and will be watching "Svengoolie" with us tonight!

                                                So, we have made it through seven months, girls.  With all I put you through, I could not resist going out on this image of levity.

                                     Here is Nancy Kelly, whom I channeled this whole month, taking her screen bow, as Christine Penmark.  You see, in 1956, filmmakers were worried audiences would find "The Bad Seed" so disturbing, and, since most of the Broadway cast was reunited, it was decided to replicate the Broadway curtain calls, to reassure audiences they were kidding; that it was all an act!

                                     As graciously as Nancy smiles here,  I think it is even more so, as this was probably the last time she ever played the exceptionally histrionic role of Christine.

                                      And no one has come near her, since!  Not even Nancy Pelosi!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                          

If Only Covid Was Gone, I Would Head For Here At Once!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                    This is the  Oz Museum, in  Wamego,  Kansas.  Dorothy may have wanted to get back there, but don't forget "Splendor  In The  Grass" was also set in  Kansas, so  I have mixed feelings about the place as  a destination state.

                                       But, as a devotee of  MGM's 1939 masterpiece,  "The Wizard Of Oz," this is  one  place I would  LOVE to see!  For starters, look at  the inviting exterior.  There is even  a small auditorium where the  film is  daily screened-- I would head for there at  once.  Though, of course, I own it on DVD, nothings beats seeing it on the screen!  The collection includes things from  the movie, as  well as other materials related to  OZ, such as  past and  present dramatizations, screen works, board games, puzzles, picture books,  comics, even  the actual passport of actor Ray Bolger,  who played the Scarecrow!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                        This is an Oz archive to cherish.  The concept is  brilliant.  One walks into a  sepia toned replica of  Dorothy's house,  where one  pays their fare, then goes through the Tornado Simulator, and through Dorothy's Oz  journey, in  all its  stages, back  to the  world of  sepia again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                           Girls, this is too much for  me!!!!!!!!!!!!  Anti-vaxxers,  get your shots NOW, or else you will  deal with MY bitchiness to get here, which makes Margaret Hamilton's Wicked Witch  Of The West or  Disney's Maleficent pale, by comparison.

                                             I want to go here,  pronto!

                                              As Miss  Gulch said, "Well,  that's for the sheriff to decide!"

                                    Here is the 26 minute video that introduced me to the museum.  It will have to do, before we can all get there!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Darlings, I Desperately Need To Add Some Cereulean Blue To My Closet!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                        I looked over my closet the other day, and decided it can stand with the best of  them, and that includes Blake Lively.  What man's closet would I love to look at?  Patrick Demarchelier!!!!!!!!!!

                                         I  am even considering, as  a project, doing a documentary on my closet, with  me exhibiting  things from my collection.  But, before  I can  even  consider this,  I  have to add some  Cerulean Blue to  my closet.  And  not  just what  is  featured here,  but  pants, scarves, and especially, at least one winter  sweater.  I mean, Cerulean goes  everywhere!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                         But where in NYC do I find some men's samples??????????????????

                                          Cerulean  covers  ALL seasons, darlings.  It is one of the best shades to be seen  in!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Girls, Join Us All Tomorrow Night, As Svengoolie Presents "The Creation Of The Humanoids!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                                             When  this film first came out, it was a big deal--for me, at seven  years of  age.  First, the art work of the poster fascinated me; I loved  the  idea of  people enclosed in glass cylinders.  Second, the advertising alluded  to World War III, which, back then, was  very problematic, but now, 59 years  later, has unfortunately, become more probable.

                                                Lastly, what the hell is a "humanoid?"

                                                 The  word suggests a combine of "human" and "android," but who knows?  So, I  am telling you, darlings, this  is reason enough to tune in.   Not to mention satisfying another one of my childhood cravings.

                                                   I  have a feeling this  will  be  cheesy.  After the gem of  last week, it is  time for Svengoolie to  return to  his  standard schtick.

                                                    And we love you, Kerwyn,  and Toonie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Maybe Will Welch Does Know Something, After All!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                     I have to say this array of Men's Fashions featured in an issue of "GQ" indicates Will and ANNA might be on the same  page.  And with me, too.

                                        Forward thinking and color--if, not enough-- abound in this photo.  And, if more could just be added, we could be on our way.  As for that skirt, well, for ME, I need more color,  and then men will have to be taught how to sit without anyone sneaking a look  up their panties, which could delight hundreds of gay men, but freak out the straight.

                                        Will, hon, you've made a fine start.  Now,  just  remember  Cecil Beaton and Vincente Minnelli,  and  you will be  on  your way!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                           Colors and  pastels, hon!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"Do You Know What I Am Going To Do To You? I'm Going To Skin You Alive!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                                        Forget "The Silence Of The Lambs," and the "SAW" movies, darlings.  When Bela Lugosi speaks these lines  to Boris Karloff in  the 1934 "The Black Cat,"  they are delivered, and enacted  by,  two  such seasoned horror pros,  it was as though these generic words had been written by Shakespeare!

                                        And when  Lugosi strips Karloff bare chested,  and ties  him to an S and  M cross--on camera, in 1934!--and the deed is done is shadows,  it is more  haunting than those aforementioned recent films.

                                          As I said earlier,  this film is  both  subliminal  and  understated, making this more a horror film than anything more graphic.

                                            It still amazes me how this got past the censors.

                                             Darlings, I am  telling  you, what a gem!  So seldom shown, but  one of  Universal's underrated  masterworks.

                                              And it paved the way for the studio's true masterwork, the following year, "The Bride Of Frankenstein."

                                                 How come  Thirties  women never wanted  to  copy Elsa Lanchester's electric hairstyle???????????????????

Is Will Welch The Male Anna Wintour??????????????????????

                                        Judging from this shot of both of them, it would appear he is.

                                         Now, girls,  you may ask, and rightly so, "Who the hell is Will Welch?  As for men, especially straight men,  you are not expected to know anything.

                                         Will  Welch, since 2019, has been the Editor-In-Chief of "GQ," once known to  those of us of a certain age as "Gentlemen's Quarterly."  The main problem I have with him is he is straight, so his approach will be inflexible.  No chance for color or dazzlement, here.  Simply all the dull colors society has forced dressed men to wear at all times.

                                             I mean, all  the great men in  fashion  have  been gay!  Come on!!!!!!!!!!!

                                           The plus is that ANNA seems to endorse him, so I am not one to argue with her.  The other thing, to  give Welch credit, is  I  need to  look  at an issue of "GQ."  Maybe, as  it turns out,  I am wrong.  At least, I hope so.

                                             Having a male ANNA is a good thing, as long as he is forward thinking.  So, I am willing to give  Welch a  chance.   I would be happy to be proven  wrong.

                                                And, no,  girls, as far as  I know,  he is not from the grape jelly/juice family!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

If "The Song Of Bernadette" Is Catholicism 101, Then "Judgement Day" Is Intermediate Catholicism!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 When I first saw this ad, about two weeks ago, I knew we were going to watch it.  Just look  at Patti Lu Pone!  She looks as though channeling Gladys Cooper in "The Song Of Bernadette."  A nice, irreverent play about Catholicism would be a perfect evening.  Or so I thought.

                                   The evening was fine, darlings.  And so were the actors.  As schmuck lawyer, Sammy  Campo, Jason Alexander was so tailor made for the role, it was like he was channeling Amanda Plummer--is he acting, or is  he  Jason?  As for Patti, she scores every time, with her irreverent vindication.  If only this had kept up.

                                       Alas, playwright Rob Ulin,  while not wanting  to  write another "Doubt," does incorporate, via Santino Fontana, and Michael  McKean, as priests of differing values (A nod to "Going My Way," from 1944?) the usual questions all Catholics ask--What about belief?  What about Heaven?   What about  Hell?  How  are we  judged?  Let me tell  you something, I started getting upset , because this started pressing my Catholic  trauma  buttons.  I mean,  for  starters, my sex life was active!  And when Patti describes Hell as a pit of boiling, molten diarrhea, this was enough for me to run to the  nearest convent, and  prosthelytize!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                           Nevertheless, a fun time was had by all.  Including David and Baby Gojira,  as well as myself!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   The virtual  presentation  was skillfully handled,  with all actors blending together seamlessly.  I can't guarantee how soon  we will  do  this again, but if  something happens  to catch my eye--as this did--I  am  willing to  give it  another  try.

                                              As for hell and diarrhea, please, I just finished a colonoscopy prep last week,  and I  don't think the God of mercy I believe in  would do such a thing.

                                                Otherwise,  I  would not have been bestowed  with all  the  gifts He gave me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                  As well as the gratitude  to appreciate them  all!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Why Not Change The Card Game Called "Old Maid," To "Spinster?"

                                        Darlings, both are two sides of  the same coin, and,  besides, isn't "Spinster" more....um.....polite than "Old Maid?'

                                         I can recall a time feeling I was consigned to Terminal Spinsterhood,  and destined to be taken away, like Blanche DuBois, at  the close  of "A Streetcar Named  Desire."

                                          Girls, even  in this supposedly so-called "enlightened" age of ours, spinsterhood is still  a social  stigma.  Always the bane of the  heterosexual woman's  existence,  it has now permeated down to gays and lesbians!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                             What is a person to do?  How does one  initiate change?

                                               Start simple.  With the card  game.  "Old Maid" is outdated.  The name  should be changed to the more diplomatic "Spinster."

                                                Most, if not all, I am sure, would prefer the latter term to the former.

                                                 And, remember, it is more important to win this game in life,  not at cards.

                                                 Otherwise, one might be consigned  to a rocking chair, spinster spectacles, hair in a plain bun, an understated floral outfit with a cat and/or parakeet!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Fifties Replication Of Thirties Horror!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

                                     These two stills are from the opening sequence of 1958's "Frankenstein 1970," which was directed by Howard W.  Koch--yes, darlings, THAT Howard W.  Koch--who later became an A-list film producer, and President of the Motion Picture Academy Of Arts And Sciences from 1977 to 1979.  This sequence was also used again, as TV filler when Edgar G. Ulmer's underrated 1957 film, "Daughter Of Dr. Jekyll," was shown on TV.

                                       Ulmer and Koch must have had some sort of professional connection, for Koch to  allow  a sequence from  a picture released after--though, maybe, shot at the same time--as 'Daughter.'  In any case,  regarding "Frankenstein 1970," only about several minutes of this opening sequence is the only good moment in the entire film.   The sequence has a  punch line, which I  will not reveal, but once it is, the movie is  over, as far as I  am  concerned.

                                          Nevertheless, this demonstrates that, when  filmmakers wanted  to, they could replicate Thirties  horror.

                                          Too bad so few  of them did.

Poor Barney!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                Isn't Barney cute, girls?  He is the bull who escaped from  a Suffolk County slaughter house, and has been roaming about Long Island, since Tuesday.  He has been sighted, but not found!  Bet he wishes he was in Manhattan!  This is one smart bull, not only for escaping, but because I believe this deed  was due to his having read Upton Sinclair's "The Jungle."

                                    Those searching for Barney came up with a brilliant idea, which I think proved wrong.  They got a sexy female cow, to try and entice Barney, but he did not take the bait.

                                      Which tells me two  things.  Either the femme cow was  a lesbian, or,  as I strongly suspect, Barney is a gay bull, and this could be his way of  coming out. If  the searchers got  hold of a hot, hunky, and horny bull, I bet Barney would come  running.

                                         Poor Barney just needs a friend; one  he  can  cotton  up  to.

                                         Just listen  to  Carole King!  She knows what Barney needs!

                                        And to those out there looking, please do not hurt Barney!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                        LGBTQ bulls have rights, too!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                       

                                      

                                

                                   

Here's......................Dexter!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                   Dexter was one of the many lovable and supportive animals, who helped  me get through my travails.  He also happens to live in our building, on the other side, but I often encounter him in the lobby, or on the street, when he goes for a walk, and he always wags his tail for me, and lets me  give him a hug.  He loves it, and so do  I.

                                      We  have also had  the honor of having had Dexter as  a guest in our home, one time.   Let me tell you, he really inspected the place.  He was especially fond of  our  bedroom, particularly the  bookshelf with all the knick knacks in place.  He was quite taken with those.

                                        Dexter is quite sophisticated, and has exquisite taste.  He is  welcome here, anytime.  I hope to have another play date with him, soon.

                                          Many thanks, Dexter, for all your love and support!

                                           Both David  and  I  feel  so  lucky to count Dexter among our many friends!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Girls, Be Sure And Join Us Tomorrow Night, When Svengoolie Presents A REAL Gem--Universal's 1934 Version Of "The Black Cat!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                                     And what a gem it is!  Only the second American film to be directed by Edgar  G. Ulmer, who went on to direct the underrated 1957 classic, "Daughter Of  Dr. Jekyll."

                                        Based loosely on a story by Edgar Allan Poe, but more to do with Universal, this pits Karloff and Lugosi as compatriots feeling each was betrayed by the other in the war.  Lugosi believes his wife and daughter are dead,  and Karloff is responsible. The film delves into psychological horror and includes scenes depicting a series of  dead women in glass cases, (Perhaps preserved by wax, echoing RKO's 1933 gem, "The Mystery Of The Wax Museum?") not to mention Satanic sacrifice, potential incest, and cult like behavior. Hey,  how  did all  this get past the censors?

                                          Also  featured is the very good looking David Manners, who is  not only luscious to look  at, but whom I am convinced was gay.  After a brief, closet case marriage, he lived with the writer William Mercer in the Pacific Palisades,  and the two ran an art gallery.  Uhm-hmmmmmmmmmm!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                               David was also in Universal's "Dracula," (1931) as Jonathan Harker, and in Boris Karloff's 1932 "The Mummy."  Just wait  till  you get a  good  look  at him, girls!!!!!!!  Hubba!  Hubba!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                 So, join, David and  I,  plus Baby Gojira and Kerwyn,  for  this screen  delight!

                                                   I bet my feline friend, Nicholas, will  be watching,  too!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I Survived My Colonoscopy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                         And with this post, dear readers, for the next five years, I close my chapter of "The Colonoscopy Chronicles."  I know some of you would rather have been reading "The Martian Chronicles," by Ray Bradbury, which I never read.  Besides, my favorite work  of his is "Something Wicked This Way Comes."  And, by the way, can anyone get me a hand on a copy of his book, "Dandelion Wine?"  There are some thing in it I discovered I missed, and I  would like to  re-examine that  work.

                                           As to the colonoscopy, well, the  prep is as horrid as you may have heard.  I had to  clutch the sink several times to insure it going down, or  that I would not  gag.  As for the day of,  t took longer to get me ready for  the procedure, than  to actually have it.  One reason was my nerves; my rhythms were so high they had to EKG me, to make sure I was OK.  After that they wheeled me  in, put me under, the room spun, and then  I was back in the recovery room.

                                            The good news is nothing was found.  So, I have another five years to go.  My God, I  will be 71, then!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Just think!!!!!!!!!!!!   I can barely!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                              As I said to one of my friends last night who called, at the stage  of  life  I am now at, a perfect colonoscopy is better than getting an "A" on a test!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                 Anyone's guess to how I will chronicle the next one?

                                                 We have five years to wait!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh, Hons, This "Mummy" Does Not A Mother Make!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                     A word I do not use often, but should, is perfunctory.  When stopping to think  about it, I  suppose it  is the worst  word one could bestow on a product.  Good and  bad is one thing;  it makes an impression.  Camp is another.  Perfunctory suggests the product set out to  do that--and no  more.  It is like damning with faint praise.

                                        Hammer's film  of "The Mummy" was, at best, perfunctory.  Still, I learned several  things from it.

                                          Hammer's idea of redoing the Universal  classics was to simply add technicolor and gore. Big deal. Forget about atmosphere,  or acting.

                                           What is more,  this  "Mummy" combines  several of the Universal films, contradicting itself along the  way.  The Egyptian sets and  costumes look borrowed  from  DeMille's 1956 "The Ten  Commandments," while everything else looks so obviously shot on  a sound stage, it detracts from  any atmosphere there might have been.

                                               The plot  of the  original  and  "The  Mummy's  Ghost" (1944) are combined.  Christopher Lee plays Kharis, who, in  the  Karoloff  original, was called Imhotep.  Kharis did not  show  up  until 1940, when  Universal made "The Mummy's Hand."  For desecrating the  tomb of  Princes  Ananka, his beloved, his  tongue is  cut out, he  is  mummified and  entombed--alive.(Even for 1959, this sequnce was pretty graphic.  The 1932 version was less graphic, but I am still haunted more by that scene than the one reenacted here.)  But forty centuries later, along  comes John  Banning (Peter Cushing), with his father (Felix Aylmer) and  uncle,  to  find Ananka's tomb,  bringing her back  to England.  That is when George Pastell, as Mehemet  Bey, (no relation to actor  Turhan Bey,  who  appeared in some  of  the Universal  "Mummy" movies) an acolyte of the God,  Karlac, and the actor who gives the film's campiest performance, resurrects Kharis, who, recalling his  love for  Ananka, sets  out in  search for her.  Bey's  goal  is  to have Kharis wreak  revenge--ie; death--on  the desecrators  of Ananka's tomb.

                                                 What a mish-mash. John Banning's wife, Isobel (Yvonne Furneaux)  turns out to resemble Ananka, so Kharis  is powerless to  follow  Bey's orders.  He tries to  save her, and this leads  to  the  climax, borrowed  from "The Mummy's Ghost," where he walks into the swamp, and  is shot,  but not before handing over Isobel to  Banning.  Bey has been killed--what a vicious queen!!!!!!!!!!!!  But that  Kharis gets  shot is preposterous, when,  scenes earlier,  it was shownbullets go right through him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   

                                                        Poor Christopher Lee; what a thankless role,  I hope he was  paid well.  "The Mummy" may not be  the  worst film  "Svengoolie" showed; I think  that still  belongs to "Curse Of The  Undead"--another 1959 product-- but it is, as I have said, merely perfunctory, neither very good, nor very sound.

                                                           Don't waste the masking tape on  this one, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What Is My Spirit Animal???????????????????????

                                                 I suppose the real question, darlings,  is do I have one.?  It is  something  I have been thinking about lately.

                                                  Now, as my neighborhood's "Dog Whisperer," I  suppose the answer should be the  dog.  And, to an extent, that  is  true.

                                                   But,  if truth be told, humans, technically are members of the animal kingdom, too.  This  being  the  case, the real answer to  this  question  is the woman, pictured above, Saint  Bernadette Soubirous.  Not Jennifer  Jones, who portrayed her to Oscar winning  perfection in "The Song Of Bernadette," but the real thing,  herself!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                     I even have a Bernadette medal, bought in New Orleans, around  my neck.  So, on this fateful Wednesday, I will  look  to Bernadette, and  others,  for guidance.

                                                       And help in  getting down that disgusting stuff, tomorrow!

                                                       Apparently,  I am  not  the only one  inspired  by Bernadette.  Take a listen--                                           

                                                         

                                                    Hopefully, I will return to you all, on  Thursday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!       

So, What Have I Been Up To, This Week???????????????

                                     I wanted to get at least one more post in before "the procedure," which takes place this Wednesday, so  I  thought I would share my latest readings.  I went through three this week, and they were all gems.  Get set, girls; here we go--

                                                                                     

                                                   "Paradise, Nevada," by Dario Diofebi--Now, I never gave two shits about Las Vegas, darlings.  I never even wanted to visit there, and still don't.  And especially after seeing  the 1995 film, "Leaving Las Vegas," I was ready to leave the movie theater.

                                                    But this debut novel, by Dario  Diofebi,  presses all my buttons.  It  is a panoramic, Altman-esque and Doctorow-esque novel spanning one year in the  lives of Veags residents, their  back  stories, culminating in,  literally, an explosive event.  This  was one of the  most  satisfying of  my reads this year, and  I  would  not be surprised if it ends up a contender.  Readers of well  written  narrative fiction need look no further.  As for  visiting  Las Vegas, you won't have to, girls,  because Diofebi puts readers  in  the  midst of it  all.  A MUST, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!    

                                                                               

                                             "Olympus, Texas," by Stacey Swann--Another fine debut, by Stacey Swann.  But  tell me, girls, save for  the book's  short  length,  if one just saw the  cover jacket, wouldn't one think "Gone With The Wind?"  I  know  I did.  What Swann does is give us the comings  and going  of  the Briscoe family within  said town, and how they interact among, and are seen  by, others.  Swann wants to reference Greek tragedy--two dogs  in here are named Romulus and Remus!--indicating to  me she was bent on writing a Texas "Thousand Acres."  The narrative and characters are  compelling, the ending still  moving  things forward, but Swann has not  the literary skill of  Jane Smiley to make the two genres blend.  It is a family saga, and a very good one, but lacking Smiley's literary depth.  Still, I would not  pass on  it,  darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                  And,  finally--

                                          "Falling," by T.J. Newman--Another debut; this summer has been a banner  one for debut authors.  This one is short and scary--a pilot's family is kidnapped on the ground, while he is airborne.  He is ordered to crash the plane, with himself, and everyone on  it, or his wife and children will be killed. Talk about "Sophie's Choice!"  One reviewer called it  " 'Jaws' at thirty five  thousand feet," and that about sums  it up.  I don't want to say anymore, except I was on the edge of  my seat the  whole time. A former flight attendant herself, Newman gets the job and jargon right, and if this one has not been sold  for  an adaptation,  well, then,  fools are running the entertainment industry.  Climb on board, for a  thrilling ride,  dolls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                               I won't be  posting any more readings till after "the procedure."  But let me give you two reasons  why I pray to make it; two novels coming out this Fall.

           

                                                                             

                                                         Need I say more?                              

                                                                            

                                                                         

                                                                             And--

                                             So, happy reading, girls, well into  Fall!

                                              As for  me,  to quote Ann-Margret in "Bye, Bye, Birdie," "I've got a lot  of  living,  to do!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                                              Keep reading,  and  fingers crossed!

                                                               

                     

"I Can't, Monica, I Can't!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                                         Darlings, I know just how Nancy Kelly feels.

                                         This is the weekend of my colonoscopy, which takes places this coming Wednesday, and I just can't face it.  

                                           But  I know, in the end, I will.  It is the right thing to do for all my loved ones.

                                           Now, I wanted to bring this shot from "The Bad Seed" in  all its black and  white glory.  I found one last week, but it has mysteriously vanished, so my apologies for this color shot. But,  next  to her banging  her hand on the table this Nancy's hysteria at its heightened.

                                               Christine has just slammed the dish towel into the wall rack, decrying how hot it is that day--when we know it is more than the heat that bothers her.  Monica comes in, with some vitamins and sleeping pills to help Christine, and asks what is bothering, and, heartbreakingly, Christine dissolves and breaks down in Monica's arms, saying she can't tell her.

                                                   Whereupon I ask myself--would I rather deal with a colonoscopy, or a psychotic child.

                                                        The procedure has a shorter life span.   The night before, and the day of.

                                                           Remember, psychopaths are born.  Sociopaths are made.  Rhoda was a psychopath, and on her way to being a top flight serial killer.  I would like to think that I would recognize a child, if I encountered one.  But would I????????????????   Could I be as astute as Miss Fern, that repressed lesbian spinster??????????????????????????

                                                            Of course, the real mystery of "The Bad Seed" is how Patty McCormack, at age eight (Broadway) and ten (Film) was able to nail Rhoda's psychosis better than any actress since?  No one comes close.  I can only wonder if a child Meryl Streep could have done  it.

                                                              Just to warn you, I will be out of commission this coming Tuesday and Wednesday.

                                                                 

                                                                "My God, my God..........what are we going to do??????????"

Why Didn't William Castle Just Use Tippy Walker And Merrie Spaeth In "I Saw What You Did???????????????????????"

                                   Darlings, it was only 1965, and they were the right ages, and after their previous year's triumph in "The World Of  Henry Orient......."

                                     But I am getting ahead of myself.  "The World Of Henry Orient" was a 1964 film adapted by Nunnally Johnson, from his daughter Nora's novel of the same title.  Tippy and Merrie play Valerie Boyd and  Marian Gilbert.  Both attend a posh Manhattan private girls school, and are outsiders; Marian, most likely because she is a scholarship kid, being raised by a single mother.  Though how they afforded NYC's Upper East Side, even in  1964, was beyond me.  Valerie comes from  a wealthy, but negligent, family, so  she is starved  for attention.  She and Marian bond,  and are absorbed with the doings of this rather mediocre concert pianist named Henry Orient,  played by Peter Sellers.

                                       Cute, teenage nonsense.

                                       I have no doubt Castle saw 'Orient,' because the girls he cast so much resemble both Walker and Spaeth.  They were Andi Garrett, as Libby Mannering,  and Sara Lane,  as Kit  Austin.  The  quartet never went anywhere after their respective film appearances; though Tippy now  lives in Connecticut,  and is an artist, while  Merrie  has  been a Republican party worker  for  years; I just hope she was not part of  the Trump Era.

                                           Before getting back to the movie at hand,  I should notify all Theater Queens who may not know, that 'Orient' was the source for a 1967 musical, entitled "Henry, Sweet Henry," that made Musical Theater Legends out of Neva Small as Marian Gilbert, and Alice Playten,  as Lillian Kafrtiz.  Robin  Wilson, new to  Broadway,  and with a  strong, but not especially distinctive, voice,  played Valerie Boyd,  and went nowhere.

                                             (Nunnally Johnson once again adapted his daughter Nora's novel for the musical stage, with Music  and  Lyrics by Bob Merrill.  The  adults  included Don Ameche, Carol Bruce,  and Louise Lasser.)

                                             Neither did Andi and Sara, though they did bits here and there. In  the  film  under discussion, they almost caricature 1965 teens, which is why I felt the naturalness of Walker and Spaeth might have been  better.   But maybe this was what Willliam Castle was  going  for, because it is impossible to take this film seriously.

                                                The premise is  SO  simple.  The girls are home  at Libby's house, babysitting for  younger sister, Tess.  They start playing  a game where they make random calls, saying  the  titular line into the phone, then hanging up.  However....they stumble upon John Ireland, as Steve  Marak, who, even  before  the  girls call,  has problems.

                                                   Castle  reverses the shower scene in  "Psycho," by having a  naked man murder a clothed woman.  What is shown  of  Ireland is not the least bit hot.  Then, there is his next door  neighbor, Amy Nelson, played by Joan Crawford, who,  I am telling you, livens things up.

                                                       Joan plays a woman  desperate for a  man, and she wants Steve.  No matter how he treats her,  even murders her, Joan stands by her man.  She had  to have  been desperate for a part, to do this, but she is such a hoot, one cannot help admiring  her.  And she did this after quitting "Hush....Hush, Sweet Charlotte."

                                                           The film is so contrived, this is all one needs to know.  Even William  Castle, I  bet, could not keep a straight face.

                                                               This was one of  the most  perfectly suited  films for  "Svengoolie," darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Will "The Mummy" Find Poppy?????????????????????????

                                                   Find out with all of us, this Saturday night, as Svengoolie presents Hammer's 1959 version of "The Mummy."

                                                   It should be fun, but it will not be as brilliant  as Universal's 1932 version of the  film,  starring Boris Karloff as Imhotep, and Zita Johann, as Helen Grosvenor, a kind of forerunner to Princess Ananka.  The opening scene, where Imhotep is tortured, tongue cut out, mummified,  and, I think, entombed alive, remains one of my most vivid  horror  film  memories.

                                                      Even with Christopher Lee, as  Kharis,  and  Yvonne Furneaux, as the Princess Ananka figure, I am not sure this will pass muster, but with color and blood added, I am  sure Kerwyn  and Company will  be on hand,  to liven  things  up!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                         So, join us this Saturday eve, for some Egyptian fun!

                                                          And don't use up the masking tape.

                                                           Just  in  case, dears!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

See What I Mean, Girls???????????????????

                                           If one subscribes,  as I  do, to  the Gospel According To ANNA, this should be an acceptable interview outfit.   I  think the time will come, when this will be.  Slowly, with the help of ANNA, and other designers, men are slowly, and rightfully, stepping up alongside women in fashion.

                                              Personally, I  would toss the glasses for a more traditional look, then ditch the pattern for a solid color--red, or,  in my case, orange!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  To match my orange cap!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                  I  think  ANNA  would love  it!  

                                                  The trick  is getting  "FORBES," "The New York  Times," and "The New Yoker,"  to love  this,  too!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                      The time is coming!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
 

The Opening Shot Of This Silk Oat Milk Commercial Always Makes Me Think Of Stephen King's "Children Of The Corn!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                                         Can you imagine, darlings?  "Children Of The Corn," in print, was one of  King's best stories,  one that today serves as a metaphor for all things cultish, like NXIVM, and, of  course, Scientology, and The Landmark Forum.

                                            Everyone  remembers the 1984 film version of  "Children Of The Corn."  The reason for that is its chilling  opening scene, where, one  Sunday, after church, the town's children murder the adults  in a brutal  massacre.  The teen aged waitress is the most sadistic, by poisoning the coffee.

                                               The film  goes downhill from there.  And did  you know  there was a  TV movie  remake  in 2009????????????    I checked  out some  of it--forget  it.

                                                If you really want to  see  "Children Of The Corn,"  at its  purest and most distilled,  I refer  you, girls, to  the 1983 "Disciples Of The Crow," which is shorter,  more understated,  and yet creepy as can be.  

                                                    Just shows that less is more, darlings!

                                                    I so wanted to bring you the 1983 film  on here,  for you to view.  I suggest you go to  YouTube, where it is, and see how well an adaptation of this work was actually made, before what is considered the more  renowned  one!

                                                    Indeed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Happy Bastille Day!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Would Madam Defarge Have Been A Trumper????????????????????????????

                                      Everyone  is  free to disagree,  but I  don't think  so,  darlings.  While it is true,  as  I have said, that the Trump  clan demonstrates one does not  have to be  poor to  be  considered  White Trash, nevertheless, they are  the  aristocracy.  And if it is one thing  Madam Defarge hated, it  was  the  aristocracy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                        Who  could forget her?   The liveliest thing  in Dickens' "A Tale Of Two Cities."  Surprisingly, for  all  she is extolled as a  literary icon,  she really does not go  into  action  until the final third  of the  book.   Yet, she casts  a spell over the entire story, just Margaret Hamilton's Wicked Witch Of The West did in  "The Wizard Of Oz."

                                           Madam Defarge would have throttled Trump!

                                            So,  let  us all remember her on  this day, and  how we  need her!

So, What Would I Ask ANNA??????????????????

                                       Well, it would be this--

                                        ANNA, darling,  why can't men get away with interesting fashions?  Why do they always have to show up at job interviews, looking like gray flannel suit types, or  morticians?  Even I did  this, back in the day, and I HATTED it!

                                        Now, just look at this outfit by Alexander McQueen!  This is more like  me, darlings--and it has  a  touch of Cecil Beaton,  too--but I  would like it done over in orange,  which is  my favorite/signature color.  Save for Winter,  I never go outside, without an orange hat.

                                          Workplaces  are changing!  Isn't it time the men had a chance?

Can This Urban Legend Actually Be True??????????????????????????????????

                                           I am sure, darlings, you have heard the legend that if a monkey is placed in front of a typewriter, or, these days, a computer keyboard, it will eventually write "Hamlet."

                                            I have more faith in that one than the following.

                                             First,  what is it  about Joan Didion?  First Dan Levy, and now  Greta Gerwig, call her their inspiration?  Am I missing something, here?  Or is miring oneself in depression a  prerequisite for success?  Sure, it did wonders for Sylvia Plath, but if  alive today, she would be 89, and  who knows what she might have produced?????????????

                                                So, I don't get Joan.  Worse,  I consider Hemingway to be vastly overrated. I only got through two of his books, as I was required to read  them--"The Old Man And The Sea," in high school, and "Green Hills Of Africa," in  college.  On my own, I gave  "A Farewell To Arms" a try,  knowing some considered it  one of the great romantic  novels.  I  could  not  finish  the last sixty pages.

                                                     Is it any wonder I  question the notion bandied about that Joan Didion acquired her writing style by sitting down at a typewriter, and typing out Ernest Hemingway's "The Sun Also Rises?"  I think  this is some kind of  urban legend; I admit  I am  slightly intrigued to try Didion and  Hemingway--but not till after the colonoscopy, if then.

                                                       I'd just as soon type out "Valley Of The Dolls!"

                                                       As Christine Penmark says, at the close of Act One of "The Bad Seed," "No, it can't be true.  It can't be true!"

Girls, Here Are Just SOME Of The SoHo Stores I Have GOT To Visit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                  Girls, I figure it this way.  With NY Theater dead right now, and hopes of  it coming back, why not spend the time that would have been there, by visiting all  the designer outlets in  SOHO,  shopping for things desperately needed, seeing all the couture, and maybe even  meeting  some  of  the designers?  Wouldn't that be simply divine,  girls???????????????

                                    Then, when ready to return uptown to the theater, we will simply look our best.  People will, literally, stare at us.

                                    Something to look forward to, after my colonoscopy.  If  I can get some designer fashions out of this wretched procedure, it might be worth  it.

                                         And who knows?  Maybe an ANNA sighting--if she is in town!!!!!!!!!!!!