By Jeff Walsh
"The Boys in the Band" is an impressive movie if only for the fact that it exists. The play came out in 1968, the same year as the Stonewall Riots in New York City, which is considered the birth of the modern day gay rights movement. The movie followed two years later, using the off-Broadway cast, and is now celebrating its 40-year anniversary.
I have to say, this movie holds up really well, and there is good reason to watch this to see where we've made progress as a community and possibly where we haven't. But that's for viewers to decide. I'm more interested in the narrative itself.
The movie starts out with Michael preparing to host a birthday party for his friend Harold. While Michael is preparing for the party, his old college roommate Alan calls. Alan is in New York City on business and urgently needs to see Michael. Michael is caught between worlds, with a bunch of loud gay friends set to arrive, and his former roommate (who doesn't know he's gay) needing to talk. Michael also assumes that Alan is gay, and wonders if he's finally going to admit it. They make plans to quickly get together, but then switch to lunch the following day.
By Jeff Walsh
"Ready? OK!" is about a 10-year-old boy named Joshua who, more than anything else, wants to be a cheerleader. He practices routines with the girls, talks to his family about how cheerleaders always work together (unlike the wrestling team the school makes him play on), and is raising money to go to a cheerleading camp.
Of course, Joshua's 10, so the movie isn't about him being gay or coming out, just being different. If anything he's the only character in the movie who's OK with who he is. His mother, who is the main character in the movie, is harried by a job she doesn't like, a brother who drifts around, a mother who enjoys taunting her, and has no time for herself. When her son is getting into trouble cheerleading, or showing up to school in a dress, she barely seems to register what is happening, just that she has one more thing on her plate to handle that day.
The movie was well-acted and looks good, but it doesn't seem to have much to say, really. Plus, it seemed to have a lot of "indie movie grab bag" going on. The gay neighbor who believes in the kid and tries to encourage him. The packrat homeless brother who can't get his life together. The stern nun who only follow the rules. The clueless, diva who does horrible stand-ups for the local TV station. You never get the sense that all of these things solidify into one movie.
By Jeff Walsh
"Pedro," which airs on MTV and LOGO tonight (April 1) is the story of Pedro Zamora, a Cuban-American who found out he was HIV-positive at age 17, and took his desire to speak out to a huge audience as a member of MTV's The Real World. He died in 1994, several hours after the season finale ended.
The movie itself was a strange flashback for me, since his story was so urgent to me at the time and so many of the scenes from that season are burned into my memory. So, it was somewhat strange seeing actors portraying people I knew from a reality TV and recreating famous scenes. At first, it almost seemed like the movie could star Pedro himself, but then the story becomes bigger than his brief time on the show, and we learn about his life before The Real World.
...but a little salt taken at the same time is obligatory! :)
It seems like I've found something akin to a GSA at my university recently. We have a Queer Department to assist with LGBTI discrimination across the university, but there are also student committees including one specially for science and engineering people! YAYNESS! There was an informal meeting a week ago so I went to that. Admittedly it was only a group of less than 10 people, but it seems like they're doing a lot of good work finding safe places for us to work once we graduate.
There was too much power
in the air when we met.
It tasted like salt and
stuff little boys are made of;
plastic yellow and blue cars,
candy wrappers and lined paper.
You wrapped a hand around
the back of my neck,
made me feel the warmth
of sex and freedom;
hard kisses under a streetlamp,
in front of a church
just for the sake of showing
how bad-ass we were.
Oh boy, what did I get myself into?
Another evening of misdemeanors with you,
burning scrapes on my spine,
pink t-shirts and car doors slamming as we
ran into the birthday glitter
So my debate and speech group performed our speeches for an assisted living facility for the elderly this evening. Or was it technically late afternoon? Anyways, my best friend Beth (who I have a crush on and doesn't know I'm bi) was home from college, and since her brother and sister are in the club and her parents run it, she emceed the performance. Afterword we all went out for ice cream. It was a lot of fun. The conversation varied from horror movies to colonies on mars leading to a mars revolution.
New age music has been greatly inspiring me. I've been playing ultra chill new age guitar, hooked up to Ableton and ran through delay, reverb, resonation, etc. and it's really changed my perspective on everything, and made me much more relaxed. I highly recommend getting into this music or playing it.
Thank you, Devin Townsend, for making the album Ghost. Also, does anyone here know any music similar to this?
Daddy was a very smart man with horrible decision making skills. My melancholy and not so fortunate story starts with a man who brought me into this world seven years before he decided it was time to say goodbye to the air that travelled through his damaged lungs. My father was a foster home, lost cause, individual set between metal bars. An alcoholic. And addict. Whatever the twisted, mangled, frayed, and shattered label may have been, to me he was my father. Daddy heard the voices; he starred down the un-seeable with this quickly fading sanity. ..
I think I swallowed your name that night in the bar.
I think you infected my veins while the music was
raging some 90s rock song and nobody was
paying attention to us as we ran to the back
room of this exile for tar-winged children.
And boy, now you're starving for some
sort of distraction in button-down lust;
a porn star type in DKNY jeans.
But I'm not one of those underground souls,
looking to lose consciousness
in pretty lashes and money-grabbing directors.
Honey, you can take a cab home because
I'm only here for the bottled-up affection
you said would never be mine