Metrosource's "definitive" list of gay icons from its October/November 2013 ish is pretty objectionable (as are all such lists). I think the Top 5 is pretty good, but things get steadily dicier as it moves along.
Thoughts on placement and on who's missing/should be missing?
Scott Nevins, that flashy boy from Flushing who abandoned NYC for Los Angeles (traitor!), was back in town with a new stand-up show at the Metropolitan Room, and he was not taking NO for an answer. He wanted me to come, and he wanted me to pay. This was a foreign concept to me. How did one do it...pay...for a show? (In reality, I do it all the time, but I'm definitely spoiled when it comes to shows I intend to review.)
As a kid, Scott says he shit glitter when he discovered a "Dorothy" from The Wizard of Oz doll.
Well, I believe in supporting theater, and in supporting talent, and let me tell you, dropping $20 on Scott Nevins is a can't-lose proposition and sounds fun even if no stage is around. His NYC comeback show was sharp, charming and as funny as he is ripped. It's cruel that someone with such prominent abs should be able to incite so many belly laughs, but Nevins, with a combo of scatological humor, family gossip, celebrity dish and self-targeted barbs about his own vanity and love life, does just that.
As funny as his other material was (in particular his tales of growing up in a drunken Irish Catholic family), I was partial to his celebrity observations, as in the shit the little spy noticed while he was working with people like Lisa Vanderpump (or was that "Vandercunt?"), Lorna Luft (a good pal of his now), Carol Channing (he's one of her favorite people once she figures out who the hell he is) and others. In the same way his wit captures their idiosyncrasies, his beautiful singing voice captures Judy Garland—he ended his raucous set by singing relatively contemporary songs like "What's Love Got to Do With It?", "Last Dance," "It's Not Right, But It's Okay" and "Like a Virgin" as Garland, the last of which I recorded and posted above with his kind permission.
"Warner Bros. continues to entertain the world with films passionately produced, selectively acquired, carefully preserved and impeccably curated for both the casual and ultimate movie lover to enjoy forever. Best of Warner Bros. 20 Film Collection: Musicals will be released February 12 and will include films such as Singin' in the Rain, The Wizard of Oz and many more."
Countless public figures have married for love, only to discover they'd married into the love that dare not speak its name. It's a fascinating phenomenon because we can all relate to the terror of finding out our partners are not who we think they are, and because most of us have fairly rigid ideas of sexuality: Didn't she realize the dude was gay when he couldn't get it up on their honeymoon? Bisexuality exists, people, as does functional bisexuality.
It's also a fascinating phenomenon when it comes to the rich and famous because it's sometimes a marriage of convenience to shore up finances, to nail down some sex-free companionship and/or to beard up for one's public.
Check out this list of some famous, straight or straightish (hey, with Hollywood stars "straight" is pretty hard to pin down) people who got hitched to gays, lesbians and/or bisexuals...
Some friends and I saw End of the Rainbow Saturday night, the new play chronicling a few weeks toward the end of Judy Garland's life, and I have to say I was really disappointed. And embarrassed that a publication like Entertainment Weekly could give what we saw an A-, even with an admittedly fantastic central performance. (Other sources have similarly praised the production.)
As my friend Christopher pointed out, the show is mostly made up of bits that Judy said on TV shows and elsewhere (a barb about Deanna Durbin's unibrow, a remark about Elizabeth Taylor's annoying perfection, some slams regarding her ex-husbands); it feels like one of those bad TV biopics FOX used to do.
The acting is nothing special. Michael Cumpsty offers a likable but drearily familiar supportive gay pianist (one who offers to take care of Judy as what would have been yet another homo hubby for her) but sexy soap actor Tom Pelphrey, as Judy's last husband Mickey Deans, is simply out of his depth. It felt amateurish, a vibe unaided by unimaginative, overly utilitarian sets.
It actually ends with a brief monologue about what happened next, as in, "Judy Garland died a few months later..." etc.
End of the Rainbow's pot of gold
And yet...I can still recommend this show. Why, if it's so...eh? Because if you are even slightly less down on all of the things I've criticized, it's worth it for Tracie Bennett, whose portrait of Judy Garland is scarily spot-on. Definitely she must be the best female Judy Garland impersonator. Except, even though there are moments when she is almost ridiculously over the top (so was Judy!), her portrayal rises above mere mimickry. She presents who that woman was—surprisingly lusty, insecure, gifted, exhausted. With the recent demise of Whitney Houston, the story of Judy Garland is all too relevant—and it's a shame so many gay men not only express disinterest in her legacy (hey, to each her own) but contempt at the traditionally close tie between Garland and the gays.
Garland & Deans
Bennett's vocal performances are truly amazing, from a show-stopping Act One closer like "The Man That Got Away" to a majestic "Over the Rainbow" that manages to make that extremely familiar song fresh, and to ferret out every nugget of pathos in comparing its cheerful message with Garland's misery.
Bennett may or may not win a Tony, but she has to be nominated.
Give this one a chance if you think you can stomach the filler. We used TKTS to pay about $70. For my money, I'd rather have seen Bennett do a one-woman show.
As a member of the Host Committee, I'd pledged to sell $500 worth of tickets, which I absolutely did—mostly to myself! I took José, brought my pal Jason along (VIP tickets including the afterparty) and the rest went to a Boy Culture reader who later informed me he'd been a homeless gay youth just a couple of years ago and to a lucky, last-minute couple.
As much work as it was trying to interest people in tickets, the show would go on to sell out, raising a record-breaking $75,000.
Arrived early to cover the junior red carpet, but it was kind of a bust for me because as a hobbyist blogger, I don't have pro lighting and it was in a 100-degree antechamber that might as well have been a cave.
I grabbed a few quick tidbits from the contestants but skipped everyone else, including judges Jackie Hoffman, Michael Musto and Tonya Pinkins, feeling bad about taking up anyone's time when they were impossible to see. Speaking of which,I didn't see expected guests Paul McGill, Rachel Dratch or John Glover, but I did at least make the acquaintance of Broadway expert Richie Ridge, one of whose helpers turned out to be Alex, a Boy Culture reader who kept my spirits up in the stifling heat.
Probably lots of Preparation H on those fresh faces (in some cases, perhaps coincidentally)
Sat down just in time to see the show open, featuring hysterical emcee Tovah Feldshuh who, as she pointed out, starred in Broadway's longest running one-woman show—take that, Lena Horne. She cracked wise about Grindr, Boy Butter and her many unconsummated Tony nominations. She was, without a doubt, 10 times funnier than last year.
Tonya Pinkins, Jackie Hoffman, Ali Forney's Carl Siciliano & Michael Musto
With Body (& Soul) Beautiful, Carl Siciliano, the director of Ali Forney
KEEP READING FOR TONS OF PICTURES & VIDEO, SOME OF IT RATHER REVEALING...