An Even Sadder Anniversary, Darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                           In the wee hours of the morning, fifty seven  years ago,  Catherine "Kitty" Genovese was murdered.  She  was 28-years-old, then;  today she would  have been 85.

                                             Most know the basics of the story--the convict scum Winston Moseley, who hunted down,  raped and killed her, the urban legned of  city apathy it engendered, and the national outrage it imposed  on our nation.

                                             But, fifty seven years later, I want to focus on the  one bit of  compassion that is  rarely talked  about.

                                               Kitty  did  not die alone.

                                                Bleeding profusely,  she snuck into the back entrance of  her Austin  Street apartment, in Kew Gardens, Queens,  collapsing on  the stairwell.

                                                 A door opened, and out stepped Sophia  Farrar, a  neighbor.  Recognizing Kitty and her  peril  at once,  she  got  her husband to  call  the cops, or ambulance,  while  holding  the  still  living,  still  bleeding girl  in her  arms.

                                                    And  it was  in the  arms  of  this compassionate  woman that  Kitty Genovese  died.  The angels  took  her,  but  without the lack  of compassion  assumed.

                                                       Last year, Sophia Farrar died, on August 28, 2020, at the age of 92.

                                                       So, while we remember  the tragedy of Kitty's death, and the  lack  of empathy it did  generate, never  let us forget the compassion  of  the one  good  woman who stood beside her--Sophia Farrar.

                                                          Let us use this day to mourn Kitty,  but celebrate Sophia!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Night The Shows Stopped!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 Girls, can you believe that, one year yesterday, Broadway shut down?

                                  On Liza's 74th birthday,  yet!

                                   Something  is oddly macabre that Broadway shut down on Liza Minnelli's birthday.  Bad enough no shows since, but don't  blame Liza for this, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                       Worse, the end is nowhere in sight, as  far as I can see it.  I am so desperate to see something live, at this point, it would even be something  not on my radar,l like  "Come From  Away!"

                                          And that marquee on the Winter Garden, about "The Music Man?"  I would love to see it, but who knows when,  if  ever, it will  open?

                                            Yes, we have weathered a year.   But there is more to get through.

                                              The theater  has always been  called "The Fabulous Invalid."

                                                Who ever thought that  would  become real????????????????

Can You Believe It, Darlings?????????? Liza, At 75!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 Not only has she reached her Diamond Anniversary, but can you believe I was not invited to the party, or streaming, or whatever it is being planned  for Liza????????????????????????

                                   Not only has Liza given us theater--she  IS Theater!  Living  Theater!  Even  if she  can't stand on  a chair,  anymore!  Even if she looks like an ossified corpse!!!!!!!!  Even if she has to  impersonated (for better) by Christine Pedi!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                     On behalf of  all readers on  here,  gays, and  Theater Queens, I  want to wish Liza the best on her 75!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                      "Ring Those Bells!," girl!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                  And here is Liza/Christine, to answer 73 questions,  for her 75th birthday!

                                   Happy, Happy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Girls, Join Us This Saturday Night, As Svengoolie Screens Another Gem--1933's "The Mystery Of The Wax Museum!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                                     We welcomed a new addition  to our house this week--our own Kerwin,  The Rubber Chicken.  So join him,with us, for this special screen  delight.

                                      Now,  if  all you have seen is Vincent  Price's 1953 "House Of Wax," that is not  too bad. A fairly high budget, 3-D, and a blonde Carolyn Jones  impersonating Joan Of Arc like she is going for Jennifer Jones  in  "The Song Of Bernaadette," is nothiing  to sneeze it.

                                      But, once you have seen this film's stunning  early 30's Technicolor,  Fay Wray at her  "King Kong" loveliest,  Lionel Atwill in a performance of evil and pathos--who knew he had it in him????---there is absolutely no  going back.

                                         As I discovered years ago,  when working at the library.  Our  collection had a two  sided  DVD.  "House Of Wax" was on  Side One, while Side Two had "The Mystery Of The Wax Museum."

                                        I am telling you,  it will be the highlight of  our  week!  Not  to mention Kerwin's!!!!!!!!!

                                        So join  us all, two nights from  now, for  this screen delight!

                                       And evereyone give a big "Welcome!" to our very own Kerwin!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A Real Gem--For Bronte Scholars, And/Or Fans!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                Girls, let's face it.  The Brontes were the original Sister Act!  Before  the Andrews, McGuires, and Lennons,  they sang  with the power of  language.  Now, imagine, which Catherine Lowell does brilliantly, in this first novel, if there remained, in present day, a living descendant of the Brontes.

                                                 That is the situation facing Samantha Whipple, as she begins her studies in English litereature, at Oxford, in Cambridge.  Samantha, the daughter of a Trollope wannabe novelist  named Tristan Whipple, is given the tower room there, at the insistence of her father, himself obsessed  with the  Brontes, and within which may or not be the key to the entire mystery.

                                                   To reveal any more, would be to rob the reader of this literary treat.  For Bronte fantatics, such as myself,  this  is a veritable feast; for those less schooled,  don't be afraid.  To  be sure,  the standards, Charlotte's "Jane Eyre," and Emily's "Wuthering Heights," are referenced, but much of  the emphasis is on the  lesser Anne's two novels, "Agnes Grey," and "The Tennant Of Wildfell Hall."  None of these works  have to be read to enjoy the book, but those such as I may be compelled to give them a re-examination.  Currently, I am re-reading Emily's "Wuthering Heights" for the tenth time, thanks to this novel.

                                                     I know I will be re-reading Anne's work soon.

                                                     As I read the book,  I was certain  Lowell was a Bronte scholar.   But  she makes no claim; though her book  is so thoroughly researched, as to suggest otherwise.

                                                      However she got  there,  Lowell's accomplishment is amazing,  and finally somehting I can highly recommend.  Granted, I am a Bronte fanatic.  But this novel can be enjoyed, on many levels,  by everyone.

                                                        Newcomers drawn into this world, are sure to be drawn into  the world of the Brontes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                           Take  it away,  Charlotte, Emily, and Anne!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                            

Girls, This Was More Like "The Movie That Would Not End!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                                             I was appalled to discover, darlings, that Universal Pictures put this one out, because the cheap way it was shot, the barely known actors who were used, made a product from American-International Pictures look like MGM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                              Originally, this was to be titled "The Water Witch," because Carolyn Kearney, as Jessica Burns, who spends most of the movie in a state suggesting something between "The Crucible" and "The Song Of Bernadette," spends much of her time, walking around with a finding stick that she  has the power to  use.  This leads to a chest with a dead head being found, that hypnotizes those who carry it around do his bidding, which makes for some great moments, the best being when Linda (Andra Martin) turns into a bitch, and slaps her fiance,  Hank, across the face,  laughing malevolently at the  idea of marrying him.   Not to  mention when Jessica, under the  influence, poses in  a sexy ccocktail dress, complete with pearls and heels--which are strictly off the rack,  girls; no high end Hollywood design here!--and demands Hank  paint her, not Linda.  The only thing missing was a potential cat  fight, which I know we would all  loved to have seen.

                                                  The head and the body have been buried on different spots of Aunt Flavia McIntyre's ranch.  Aunt Flavia, played full out camp by Peggy Converse, really got on my nerves;  I kept hoping the thing would get her, as her avaraciousness  is so over  the top; get a grip!  And  how about James Anderson (brother of Mary,  who was in "The Song Of Bernadette," and played Bob Ewell  in "To Kill A Mockingbird") and Charles Horvath,  as farm hands Boyd and Mike, clearly standins for George and Lennie of Steinbeck's "Of Mice And Men?"  Why replicate this masterpiece at the expense of a less than B picture?

                                                     The whole thing involves the puzzle  of finding the body to put  toggether with the head--like Mr. Potato Head, girls!!!!!!!!!--when the thing CAN  finally die!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  By this time,  despite Svengoolie's and sweet Kerwin's best efforts,  I was almost asleep!  But  I did sleep well that night!

                                                         This may be the only film  in history to  end  with a cleavage shot.  At least,  as far as I have seen!

                                                            Fun, in a bizarre sort  of ways,  dears!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                                                     

                                                 

                                                       And everyone gets a head shot!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Who Would Have Thought These Two Would Be Connected???????????????????????

                                       Girls, how many times so many of us have seen the movie "Psycho," and heard The Beatles' classic, "Eleanor Righy?    

                                         Never, in all my years of both, would I have thought of putting them together!

                                           Recently, I read that when Paul McCartney was writing the song, he wanted the violin  arrangement  to be edgy and haunting.  Which,  as results show,  it  is.    But what he thought of to get him  there was Bernard Herrman's score to Hitchcock's "Psycho."

                                             And, yet, if listened to back to back, it makes perfect sense.

                                             As do the stories to a degree, as both are examinations of human loneliness.

                                             And there are plenty of Eleanors out there.  Remember my post on  Janice  Gonnella???????????????

                                                                                  

                                    But don't just take my word!  Listen and see for yourselves, darling!!!!!!!!!!!!!!