The International Magazine of Entertainment and Eros.
January 1982 ~ page 76
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It's about time, indeed.
Ponders the myriad pathologies of pop culture.
Obsesses about actressing at the edges.
Loves grilled cheese.
ARCHIVE OF SUPPORTING ACTRESS SUNDAYS & THE SMACKDOWN
This week's Supporting Actress Sunday profile marks the first in what I anticipate to be a new series, "Born In...," in which I take on a performance by a Supporting Actress "born in" the year of that month's Smackdown. The hope is that this series might both broaden my screening spectrum while also allowing a bit more attention to more performances in contemporary, overlooked or just bad movies. Attentive readers among you might recall that, in my inaugural experiment for this series, I opened the voting among a list of ten actresses "Born in 1967," the year of the last Smackdown of 2007. The actresses o 1967 included such notable actresses at the edges as Laura Dern, Maria Bello, Carrie-Ann Moss, Lily Taylor and Brooke Smith, among others, but somehow the voting seemed always to tip the scales toward this week's featured performance...
to demand that web cinephiliacs shirk their carefully constructed attitudes and let something delightfully embarassing hang right out there... And it took me a moment to settle on something, but thanks to a fleeting encounter with Grease2 on television this weekend, I was reminded of an obscure genre of cinematic pleasure which just stirs my very soul: unexpected musical numbers in films of the later 1970s and early 1980s in which men get nearly naked. I'm not sure why I thrill so. I suspect it's a combination of the innocent irreverence of male nudity in the 1970s, coupled with my giddy delight at the well-positioned (and well-proportioned) musical number, as well as my personal concupiscence when I first encountered these scenes. And they're all prior to that time when Tom Cruise lip-synched in his underpants, an admittedly excellent scene which nonetheless transformed the nearly naked musical number into something peculiarly innocent. No, there's something about the at once overt and oblique sexuality of these numbers that I do fill me with the requisite "complete and unbridled fucking retarded JOY." Truly, I could just watch these clips on loop for hours on end. Oh, I love each of them so... So, lovely reader, with my giddy blessing, please enjoy:
This week's Supporting Actress Sunday profile (the first ever done "By Request") arrives as part of StinkyLulu's contribution to the recent fundraiser over at The Film Experience. Steve & Stephen's donation to the actressexual cause coincided with my offer of a "Supporting Actress Profile By Request" to the first three contributors to drop a certain amount of change into the collection plate. So, imagine my delight, when Steve & Stephen determined their choice -- a perennially undervalued actress's exhilarating if brief nominated performance in a fascinating, frank film of the later 1950s. After all, I'm always giddy to spend some time with...Alas.
The duties of my day job have once again intervened
to delay my recaplet of this extraordinary televisual event: