NETFLIX QUICK PIX!!!

In keeping with my need to escape from reality, I've taken the weekend to view a few flix, some good, some not so good, some featuring hunky men with older women, some featuring signature songs, some love stories, some not. Here's the lowdown:

PARRISH stars an above the title TROY DONOHUE and above Claudette Colbert in a 1961 mish-mash of a soaper. Troy is Parrish, the handsome, popped-collared son of Colbert (who looks amazingly the same as she did 30 years before) both of whom move off to some tobacco plantations north of the Mason Dixon Line. Parrish, being the honest, yet wooden fellow he is, is SWOONED over by not one, not two, but THREE lovely gals from three different backgrounds. Connie Stevens is the good girl in trouble, Diane McBain is the rich tippling trollop with a penchant for cash and Sharon Hugueny is the swarthy daughter of evil-nasty, Karl Malden. When Malden falls for Colbert and becomes Donohue's step-pappy, Troy is drawn into the venal machinations of the RAIKE family, even though his loyalty to widower Dean Jagger is strong. Clocking in at 2hr 18mins, you have no idea what the hell is going on or who's prettier? The fetching girls, or the fetching leading man. Ironically, Parrish does his toiling in the fields in nifty high-water khakis. The Technicolor glorious, the costumes swell, the script incoherent.

Rock Hudson, Gina Lollobrigida, Sandra Dee and Bobby Darrin star in COME SEPTEMBER, a rolicking sophistacted sex-ties romp set in Italy. Hudson (who only visits his Italian Villa once a year....in September) shows up early, only to find that his Major Domo turns the manse into a hotel during summer's high season! And the hijinx are on! Lollobrigida looks ravishing, Hudson is as Hudson does (read: lots of partially clad scenes), but the real thrill is seeing a Hollywood film actually filmed in Italy. For the most part. The guys are nifty in their Gucci Loafers and the gals sport the sweetest knee-hovering bouffant skirts. Cute, sweet and about as satisfying as eating cotton candy.

MAGNIFICENT OBSESSION. Rock Hudson pairs with doddering old hag Jane Wyman in this ridiculous tear jerker that has no basis in reality. Hudson is a careless playboy who accidentally kills Wyman's short-term hubby, then turns around a blinds her in a car accident!!! But Hudson turns his life around after he meets up with some artist who fills his head with some new-agey gobbledy-gook, Hudson befriends Wyman under an assumed name, and after all the specialist Europe can provide cannot cure the occlusion that mars Wyman's sight, Hudson becomes a surgeon and cures her. Usually meant to be a Douglas Sirk directed tear-jerker, the Valium and Du bonnet only made me giggle the evening away.

Dustin Hoffman is JOHN, and Mia Farrow is MARY in JOHN AND MARY, a surprisingly cerebral flick about a one night stand gone awry. Taking place in late 60s NYC, the look is great, the script, phenomenal. I was utterly shocked by this touching love story.

SHAMPOO: Warren Beatty stars as the womanizing hairdresser who does more than great hair. He wears it as well. Gosh, if I had a Flo-bee, I'd have a shag like his, too! Julie Christie, Goldie Hawn and Lee (where are her lips in relation to the lipstick) Grant costar as the long suffering gals Beatty boinks while yearning for his own salon. Again, Beatty flashes a lot of flesh, but that's OK, because nobody does THAT better. Pretty as a picture, he is. Looks just as great in a velvet tux as he does in low slung jeans and a tank top. Strangely, I'd never seen this flick.

But gosh.

It's the LA I love.

FROM THE CATSKILLS TO YOU!!!

NETFLIX QUICK PIX!!!

REVISITING STUFF YOU ALREADY KNEW WAS GOOD!!!

I have to tell you. I just got DSL online service, and it is the BEST THING EVER!!! I totally love it. And with NETFLIX, I can download bad mini-series (lookin' for LACE with Phoebe Cates? If nothing else, WHICH ONE OF YOU BITCHES IS MY MOTHER is on You Tube), documentaries, musicals. Even Malcolm McDowell's tour de force in that flick directed by...umm...ohhh....The fellow who directed 2001. It has a name and you know it. Leave me alone.

SWING SHIFT, with a stunning cast of actors including Goldie Hawn, Kurt Russell, Christine Lahti, Ed something really hot and hairy, a dwarf takes you right back to the good old days when men were scarce and women had rivet guns. I saw it in the theater when I was just a wee one, well, maybe not as wee as ye can be, but I have not seen it since. Goldie does an amazing Kate Hudson impersonation. Kurt Russell. Yummy. Lahti. Absolutely off the stage. Long an lithe, she's brilliant. The dwarf? Perfectly cast. The long gone Ambassador makes a cameo. 5 stars.

Needing to take in some NATASHA RICHARDSON (I had to....you know), one sat through WIDOW'S PEAK. Featuring such reviled stars as Dame (I stole away Vivien Leigh's husband) Joan Plowright and the long suffering Mia Farrow, Jim Broadbent and fun stock costumes of the period, this little thing takes place in Ireland. And you KNOW just how much I want to go THERE. Think Daffy Dames in the middle of nowhere having to deal with a wacky American. Stars? 3.5

TO DIE FOR. Nifty flick with Nicole Kidman doing a wicked Meg Ryan. There's some swarthy guy from Long Island starring as her soon to be dead hubby. I liked it. 3 stars.

I'd just made a pot of Lentil Ham Soup, and decided to sit down to THE EXORCIST. Very well acted, very well directed tons of bumps in the night and other drama. The next time I will eat a chicken sandwich. 3.75 stars.

Today's recipe!

MICROWAVE POACHED EGGS

Put a tablespoon or so of water at the bottom of a tea cup. You can use a mug, but the shape is much nicer in a piece of granny's tea set.

Crack egg inside cup.

Cover with paper towel or wax paper.

Cook 20-40 seconds.

Drain water through slotted spoon.

Eggs are CHEAP and HEALTHY.

During this economy, ya just have to eat more of 'em.

NETFLIX STAH! OF THE DAY!!!

DUSTIN LANCE BLACK!!!

I just sat through the DVD of MILK (toast). For whatever reason, this film garnered a bunch of attention over NOTHING. It's shit. Crapola.

It made me nauseous.

Harvey Milk was no Saint. He was a tawdry whore who did what fags did in the '70s....fucked around. He was also an apt politician who got elected, got murdered, got MILK.

MILK is a bunch of over-hyped garbage, having little to do with Harvey, and a lot more to do with GUS VAN SANT's pedophilia. Look at the writer. How, exactly, did this 20 something get the job and the Oscar? By SUCKING SOMEONE'S DICK?! Or did Van Sant just drop to his knees and give a mediocre writer the job after the ultimate score?

Ever see ELEPHANT?

I rest my case.

Speaking of scores. Danny Elfman gives the most heavy-handed, violinistic bunch of tripe as back drop. IT SUCKS. But so does Gus.

MILK is a hackneyed bunch of crap. THE LIFE AND TIMES OF HARVEY MILK (documentary) is WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY better, and a hell of a lot more insightful. Oh, sure. Sean Penn can PLAY fey, but I can play with Barbie dolls.

Needless to say, the whole outing made me ill...no pun intended.

Somewhere online you can actually see DLB at some party. Guess what? All of his little twink friends have the same comb-over 'dos, apparently the RAGE in WeHo at the moment. I'd post the link, but why bother.

You'll be just as sick of white FAGGOTS as am I.

NATASHA RICHARDSON

1963----2009

NETFLIX QUICK PIX!!!

FILMS FOR THE NEW DEPRESSION!!!

Sick of all the bad news about the economy? Distressed by the horrifying chance that the only Redgrave of the New Generation of the Legendary Acting Family (Natasha) with talent will never grace stage or screen again? Just had a colonoscopy? You DID? Then it's time to do as your grand-parents (or great-grandparents) did and escape into a world that doesn't exist!

Here are a few flix to take your mind off the Shit:

The entire TAMMY series. All these flix were produced by Homo-extraordinaire, Ross Hunter, he of Douglas Sirk pics and facilitator of comebacks for has-been actresses like Jane Wyman, Lana Turner and Susan Hayward. TAMMY AND THE BACHELOR, arguably the best of the gaggle, stars a young Debbie Reynolds and hunky Leslie Nielson. Debbie is the country gal, living on a river shanty with her corn liquor brewing grampa. When grampa gets nabbed by the feds, Tammy goes off to live with the rich folks up the river including Nielson, Faye Wray and wacky Nielson Aunt Mildred Natwick. Only Natwick sees Tammy's potential, though Wray (Neilson's mom) tries to quell Tammy's love of goin' a barefootin' and sayin' wacky misquotes from The Good Book and homilies of her dead Granny's. The hit song TAMMY'S IN LOVE originated in this first film, and Tammy Hauck was conceived to the sorrowful tune.

Moving right along: In TAMMY TELL ME TRUE Sandra Dee takes on the role as the irrepressible young-un, this time off to college where she meets Hunter stock players Virginia Grey and hunky John Gavin. In Tell Me True, Tammy decides it's high time she goes a-learnin' at college. Grey (as the college matron) takes Tammy under her wing and soon Country Gal meets growed up snotty college kids who make fun of her. But not John Gavin. He falls for her barefoot charm, hideously ash blonde hair and mismatched wiglets. Beaulah Bondi co-stars as the crusty old rich dame who misses her simple hill-billy past, and moves on board the river shanty and creaks in Granny's old a-rockin' chair. Dee sings a couple of songs. Though she had a few hits of her own (who didn't back in those days) I suspect that HELEN LAWSON dubbed her.

Beaulah Bondi and Sandra Dee are back, this time in TAMMY AND THE DOCTOR. In this outing, Bondi is ailing and checks into a hospital. Determined to be near her benefactress, Tammy takes a job as a nurse's aid, thereby mucking up operating rooms and a cleanin' bed pans. But not before Dee reprises TAMMY'S IN LOVE, this time dubbed by MARNI NIXON. I think. At any rate, formula is as formula does, and Dr. PETER FONDA, though not hunky, has longer lashes than most of the snotty nurses on the hospital staff. Naturally, he falls hook, line and sinker for river water guzzling Tammy, Bondi comes through a risky operation with flying colors, and Tammy gets her man. Co-starring hunky Adam West (Batman) as the Lothario that tries to put the moves on smarter-than-you-think Tammy.

Sandra Dee and hubby Bobby Darrin star in THAT FUNNY FEELING, a swingin' comedic sex-tire of the early sixties. Dee is a housekeeper who carries her uniform in a hat box (now that's a clever idea!), and Darrin is, unbeknownst to her, one of her clients. When Darrin takes Dee home, where does he end up? His own pad!!! Darrin doesn't let on, Dee moves in, and Donald O'Connor moves out. Of his own place. Which Darrin appropriates for himself while he courts Dee. Sound familiar? It is. But WHO CARES?! Darrin is snazzy and snappy, Dee is just her cute little virtuous self. Nita Talbot costars as Dee's wisecracking roommate, who all too easily falls into the lap of luxury along with Dee in Darrin's apartment. Cameo by Reta Shaw, she of THE GHOST AND MRS MUIR fame.

FOOTLIGHT PARADE. This flick came out during the FIRST depression. Plunk down your nickle and get ready for a Busby Berkeley directed musical comedy. James Cagney stars as a hard-boiled producer of vaudeville shows who comes on hard times as the Talkies take over. Not to be deterred, Cagney decides to produce live musical shows to be done before the talkies unspool. They have a technical term, but I can't remember what the hell they're called. Joan Blondell costars as the secretary who's just short enough to be in love with diminutive Cagney, and Ruby Keeler is the office hack, who, though hiding behind spectacles becomes an overnight tapping sensation once she takes them off! This was produced just as the Hayes Code was being enforced, and the humor is racy, and Berkeley manages to get in a few digs at the censors. A funny, tune-filled delight. Oh, BTW, there is a documentary in the special features, but somehow they asked Film Illiterati John Waters to make some un-educated guesses about the film, much as he did during the audio commentary for the 25th Anniversary Edition of Mommie Dearest.

Director Mike Leigh is known for his serious dramas such as VERA DRAKE, NAKED, and one of my personal faves, SECRETS AND LIES. Famed for his work in improvisation, creating characters WITH the actors from birth onward, HAPPY GO LUCKY is an unexpected delight. Leigh veteran Sally Hawkins stars as the ever optimistic Poppy, who in the first reel loses her bike to a thief. Quel domage! Never one to be downtrodden about ANYTHING, Poppy decides to take driving lessons and manages to get the most pessimistic teacher in the driving college as her instructor. This film meanders hither and yon through contemporary London, Poppy never letting anything get her down, not even London's perpetually grey weather because it makes nary a cameo, proving the sun always shines if you make stoopid jokes and smile broadly. I loved this little film.

If you think things just CAN'T get any worse, move into ASYLUM. This 1970's documentary about a safe-house for nutcases (as opposed to a booby-hatch) shows how a dysfunctional community functions. Men and women from around the globe come to live in this wacked-out flat in one of London's tenement buildings. There is no narration, so you just have to take it as it comes. I did. In about three sittings. A fascinating experiment in Cinema Verite.

So FUCK the Big THREE, the BANKS and AIG!!!

Take a XANAX, have a Pabst and escape into celluloid.

LIZ SMITH!!!

Well, as if you didn't know, The New York Post dropped geriatric gossip columnist LIZ SMITH from its Page Six. I suppose it was a tossup betwixt her and The Widow Bishop, CINDY (I'm still a friend of Imelda Marcos) ADAMS who ain't no spring chicken herself. Even if their combined ages are exhausting (I guess we could toss in George Wayne's for good measure) and add up to more years than God KNOWS what, at least Smith has written a couple of delish books on her days of dish.

NATURAL BLONDE gives us Liz's ultimate auto-bio. Oh, for the days of Cholly Knickerbocker! And there was Liz, arm and arm with WINCHELL. Friends with fellow fossils like Helen Gurley Brown, Babs Walters, Bloodthirsty School Marm Jean Harris and ever scantily clad Elaine Stritch, Liz waxes nostalgic about the days when you actually had to change a ribbon on a typewriter! The struggle to climb upward and onward in a MAN'S WORLD----even if her DICK is bigger! The fight for the latest scoop! A fun read, but nothing compared to:

DISHING: GREAT DISH-AND DISHES-FROM AMERICA'S MOST BELOVED GOSSIP COLUMNIST.

Though I devoured both books with relish, DISHING is my fave because it has some gastronomic frights from the STAHS! Not to mention some wonderful etiquette tips that would make Miss Manners wince.

If you're feeling brave (and your heart valves can handle it) try this!

ELVIS FRIED POTATO SANDWICH

1/2 lb bacon
2 small russet potatoes, peeled and sliced
2 small yellow onions, peeled and thinly sliced into rings
Salt and pepper to taste
2 large slices white bread
Mustard to taste

1. Fry the bacon in a heavy cast-iron skillet to desired doneness and drain on paper towels. Heat the bacon drippings over medium heat, add the potatoes and onions and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Fry until the potatoes are browned and crisp on the outside and tender on the inside and the onions are tender, too. Do not turn the potatoes until they are crisp. Taste for seasoning.

2. Grill or broil the bread until it is toasted on one side. Smear the untoasted sides generously with mustard and layer bacon and potatoes and onions on top of one mustard side. Cover with remaining bread, mustard side down.

Bon appetit!

CRAIG'S DREAM HOUSE!!!

Oh, how I wanted a Barbie Playhouse when I was a wee boy.

In honor of Barbie's 50th birthday, those wacky folks at Mattel had some designer make a LIFE SIZE ONE! The cocktail parties Barbie and I could throw there! Imagine the music! The Swingle Singers do Mozart. Beck. The Barry Sisters! Scary appetizers on orange platters!

But where to put the bar?

FASHION! FASHION! FASHION!

For YEARS we've been hearing the '80s ARE BACK, BACK, BACK, and for season after season, I've been waiting for MY '80s to come back, not the MTV generated fashion of that period (did I ever own a pair of acid washed jeans? ummm, no), but the oh so swank days when W was just a glossy newspaper, and Derek and I read WWD like it was the bible.

Finally, this season, many designers are harkening back to a very stylish period of the '80s: Those heady days betwixt Disco and New Wave.

Gucci, for instance, has come out with a new look altogether, this season an homage to my personal favorite model of the period, Miss Tina Chow, who, over her short life, amassed a collection of Balenciaga Ball gowns that have hopefully been (since her death of AIDS in 1994) handed over to a museum of note.

Take for instance the above photo. The SLIGHT shoulder pad, the single lapel, the WIIIIIDE belt, the above the thigh high mini over opaque hose. The DOLMAN sleeve! Pretty nifty mix of Ziggy Stardust and Fiorucci, if you ask me.

PLEEZE bring back THESE '80s.

Please.

And keep those 'got it at the mall' day-glo colors to yourself.