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3 posts from July 2006

Jul 27 2006
The Accidental Bear Comments (2)

I've never fit easily into classic gay types. I know that usually when someone says he defies labeling it's a case of a big ego refusing to believe its host is so easily categorized, like how Lance Bass (applause for coming out) told People Magazine he isn't gay, he's "also gay," because he's sooo many other things.

But once you're past the "I'm gay" hump, I feel like gay men are not only accepting of labels, they're all about them. It's been my experience that of everyone I've met, gay men are the most interested in ethnic ancestry (how many of them can tell you at the drop of a hat that they're Swiss/Dutch/French as if this explains some aspect of their personalities?), and stereotypes (so much of gay humor involves pointedly remarking on how all lesbians behave, what you can expect from black boys, how many beers it takes to get to the center of a straight man) and, well, roles.

I guess it's the concept of roles, not so much of categories, that I'm talking about, like there are kinds of gay to be. You can be a twink (boyish, barely legal, all-American), a Chelsea boy (musclebound and tan in sexualized clothing, or what twinks turn into when they get older and pass their 100th partner), a leather daddy (if you don't know what this is, you aren't one), a pig (showers are the enemy and all the assholes in the world are not enough)...the list goes on. When I published Boy Culture in 1995, the one part of the book that readers consistently bring up with me is the part where the narrator attempts to outline various gay roles, including that of the clubkid vs. the partyboy.

Rice queen, dinge queen, curry queen—forget the exotic labels, even just plain old top and bottom qualify.

Straight people have types and roles, too, of course, but—and I could be wrong—I feel like gay people in general embrace roles more readily, develop them more ritualistically, take comfort in them more fully. For better or worse. So when I say I've never fit easily into a role, it's more an admission of failure—a king without a castle!—than a self-absorbed shrugging off of my own inescapable sameness-as-you.

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Jul 19 2006
It's All An Illusion... Comments (1)

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I'm cheating. I have tons more Outfest items to post, including an Awards Night recap that has Boy Culture winning Best Screenplay for Q. Allan Brocka and Philip Pierce (note proper spellings!), me speaking with Bryan Singer and someone telling me he had his finger so far up some guy's ass that "it was like...can it get any farther up there?" (Don't worry, I won't reveal that story—I know what "off the record" means, and it's usually implied in tales of tails.)

But as a quickie break: I went to my fifth of six NYC Madonna gigs tonight, so let me bang this out:

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Jul 16 2006
Eating Out 2: Sloppy Seconds Comments (1)

UPDATE 11/6/06: More Eating Out 2: Sloppy Seconds here.

809489124_lI'm a huge admirer of Q. Allan Brocka, director and writer of Eating Out, but that debut feature was not my cup of tea. I really wasn't overly excited to see the sequel—it's kind of like how Mission: Impossible disappointed, so why would I want to see Mission: Impossible 2? And yet, like that other franchise, I found myself—impossibly?—falling hard for Eating Out 2: Sloppy Seconds.

Marco5s_1Co-written by Brocka and by the film's newbie director Phillip J. Bartell, EO2 has the distinction of being the first gay sequel in history (American, that is, thanks to the La Cage Aux Folles trilogy in France), but it has other distinctions that any film would covet: It's confidently directed, has uniformly fine comedic performances that match and complement each other in tone, has a top-notch score and looks like a million bucks—even though it probably cost a fraction of that to make.

859396066_lYou don't need to have seen Eating Out to appreciate E02, but you've seen it anyway—it's a wildly successful film, thanks to the buzz it generated for a phoned-in three-way and some thank-you-God full-frontal by Desperate Houseboy Ryan Carnes. But E02 stands alone, diving right into a mess of characters united in their obsession with sex who are nonetheless distinguished from one another by their own individual quirks: Emily Stiles (now Emily Brooke Hands) returns as Gwen, who really wishes the guys she sleeps with wouldn't be too uptight to have sex with men while she watches; Rebekah Kochan returns as Tiffani, an oral expert who can tell how long it's been since the penis she's sucking has fired; American Idol contestant Jim Verraros is back as ugly duckling Kyle, though with his makeover "taking" by now, it's going to be increasingly hard for him to play that kind of part; and it's hard to overlook newcomers to the series Brett Chukerman as Kyle's snarky ex- and Marco Dapper as the eye candy with a hard-on of gold.

There are sexual situations galore and enough raunchy humor to do John Waters proud (speaking of whom, Mink Stole pops up as Kyle's mom), but the plot thickens with a savvy satire of the ex-gay movement, which is being spearheaded at school by a right-wing hottie, played by former teen heartthrob Scott Vickaryous. Instead of being lazy and letting the sex sell this project, Bartell and Brocka have seeded the script with hilarious one-liners and observations that, for the most part, are not the familiar ones you'd expect from a gay sex comedy. The characters and the script—not to mention the snappy editing—make E02 feel like a European sex farce.

363077644_lEveryone from the first movie has improved tremendously, but Rebekah Kochan demands singling out. In Eating Out, she was a bit more slovenly and her performance forgettable (at least by me). In the sequel, she is a svelte bombshell and her timing informs and fully exploits every line she utters and every situation she's in. It's impossible to believe she won't get good work from this gig; it's like the first time you saw Jennifer Coolidge...but if the first time had been early enough on to help make her a leading lady instead of an in-demand character actress.

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