Shower With A Buddy (Homo Heritage Fridays)

from Blueboy, July 1979, page 80.

A handsome 6x6? Impressive.

Where Ya Been, Lulu?

Sorry Lu's been so inconsistent this week, lovely reader.
But StinkyLulu's only now crawling out from under a big pile (see above). And even though The Stinkys are crazydizzybusy with Graduations, Birthdays, Mother's Days, & Out-Of-Towners all weekend, do stay tuned for this Sunday's Supporting Actress Sunday -- it's devoted to that movie momma who'll likely make you grateful for the mother you got: Gladys Cooper in Now, Voyager.

Have a great weekend, lovelies.

Rachel Maddow: StinkyLulu's Latest Crush

MrStinky not infrequently accuses StinkyLulu of being a closeted lesbian. A fondness for purple. A stray Holly Near cd. Clunky summer sandals. Anything can trigger MrStinky's lavender-baiting accusations. Of course it doesn't help that a few years back Lulu went as "Rosie O'Donnell" for Halloween by wearing Lulu's favorite everyday outfit -- oversize burgundy button front shirt, clamdigger-length khakis, sensible shoes -- & spiking up one-side of Lulu's longish brown hair (these were in the Taboo days of Rosie's über-dyke hairdo). It does tend to freak MrStinky that Lulu's clothes closet looks like Dykes 'R' Us (minus the athletic gear).

But now StinkyLulu's giving MrStinky new fodder:
StinkyLulu's got a crush on a new, fabulous & kickass media personality.
She's smart. She's tough. She's funny. She's out. She's very cute.

She's Rachel Maddow...
(And if you don't know her, lovely reader, you should.)

See - StinkyLulu listens to way too much talk-radio. And has for years. (Driving a buncha miles daily to & fro can do that to a girl. Plus the NPR stations cut out during the drive's longest stretch because a mountain's in the way.) Only recently has Lulu stumbled upon Rachel Maddow's morning drive-time show. Wow. So smart, so funny -- it's just amazing that it's political talk-radio & it's actually interesting. Plus -- and here's the source of the crush -- Maddow's that exceptional rarity of talk-radio, even lefty radio:

She's not a bully.
(Even when she could so totally take someone out.)

LaRachel states her case -- smartly, wittily, humanely -- and then lets the idiots (hi Tucker!) hang themselves with their own half-lengths of wit. She doesn't shriek or drone or try to be funny. She's quick. She's smart. She's surgical in her precision. And, anyway, it's not like Lulu crushes on all lesbians. (Icky Lesbian #1 & #2).
Just this one.
(Plus that one. And that one. Maybe that one. Oh, yeah, that one too.)
Okay. Yes. StinkyLulu is a secret lesbian.

But that don't mean Lulu's any less in love with MrStinky.
It's complicated being a Lulu.

The Unexpected Queer Pleasures of STICK IT

'Twas a Friday afternoon.
And as 'tis The Stinkys wont
Stupid movie, 'twas the aim.
And, for The Stinkys, the extraordinary idiocy of Stick It
proved a perfect piece of piffle.

Stick It's the gymastics riff-on/rip-of Bring It On -- that "new queer classic" (which really should be the tagline of a movie night on Logo). Beyond the fact that both movies seem "ripe" for porn retitling, both flicks do a genre swirl that's precisely queer: the physical narrative thrust of the sports movie mixed with the "hey! let's put on a show!" backstage musical. Mix in screenwriter Jessica Bendinger's post-Buffy, über-snarky dialogue. And you've got catnip for protoqueers... But there's something that makes Stick It sorta special. And, no, it's not the candy-colored Busby Berkeley-ized gymnastics sequences. (Thought not since Can't Stop The Music has a movie gym looked so freakin' fantabulous!)

So. What does StinkyLulu kinda sorta totally love about Stick It?
The lead character, Haley.
Possibly the coolest babydyke on screen in a long time, if not ever...

See Haley, played by Missy Peregrym, is possibly the the purest babydyke heroine yet. She's got it all. She passes for a boy through the whole first sequence. She's got the sexiness of tomboy tough -- she's both powerfully athletic and astonishingly pretty. She's annoyed by girlygirls of any age & tends to hang with guys. She's pissed at the conventions of female performance that limit what she and her friends can really accomplish.

But most important: Haley's got no heteromance to muddy the fantasy pleasure pool. (See Muddy Heteromance Exhibit #1 & #2). StinkyLulu simply can't think of a supersexytomboy in a mainstream movie -- even in the golden era of Jodie Foster & Kristy MacNichol -- where some lame boyfriend didn't show up as a prop for the alibi of hetero-probability. And it's not like there's any shortage of cute boys in the cast (See Stick It Cute Boy Exhibits#1 & #2). There's not even the homopanic of a mom who wants her jock daughter to wear a dress (GirlJock with Homopanicking Mom Exhibit #1).

No, Haley's got something special happening.
So, lovely reader, keep your heart open for this dumb little movie. It may do some important work. And if you know/love a kid who may be on their way to a fabulously queer future, be sure they've got a ticket...

Susan Peters in RANDOM HARVEST (1942) - Supporting Actress Sundays

StinkyLulu's Supporting Actress Sundays for May kicks off a month of Sundays devoted to 1942 with the surprisingly weird work of Susan Peters in the Greer Garson/Ronald Colman romantic epic, Random Harvest

Random Harvest is one of those many movies that could carry the tagline: "Fate bought them together, but would Fate also keep them apart?" Basically, Ronald Colman's a WWI officer shellshocked into amnesia. He's stuck -- no clue as to who he is -- at an asylum in a manufacturing town somewhere in England. Amidst the excitement over Armistice, Colman wanders into town & encounters a music hall singer/actress headlining there (Greer Garson). For reasons known only to the artisans who craft romantic boilerplates, Garson decides to keep the obviously dazed-&-confused Colman on as kind of a manpet. For additionally obscure reasons, they flee from the town to the countryside where -- surprise! -- they fall madly in love, marry & make a baby. All while bantering in the plummiest English accents ever; they're both just "terribly heppy." Then, of course, in a fit of goodprovider-ness, Colman ventures off to the city where he gets run over & wakes up -- what?! -- remembering who he is but with no idea of where he's been for the last three years. Turns out -- you don't say! -- he's heir to a business fortune & his daddy just died leaving him all kinds of money, houses, & servants. But -- sniff -- what about Greer? Will he ever remember her? Ohhh, l'amour, l'amour.

(If you want to see how things turn out,
check out this loving reconstruction of Random Harvest as an English fotonovela.)

Susan Peters -- as Kitty, Colman's fifteen year old step-niece -- arrives to the scene at precisely the moment when Colman re-enters his fancypants life (& forgets all about Greer).

Susan Peters as Kitty: "I have intentions."

Kitty falls immediately in swoon for her tragic & romantic step-uncle. And they develop a devoted relationship over what turns out to be twelve years -- a photo on Colman's mantle charts Kitty's maturation from school girl to college graduate to young woman.

Finally, when 12 years have passed -- Kitty's all grown up and sophisticated; Colman's a workaholic with no interest in romance. But that won't stop Kitty. She reminds him of her unrelenting love for him in creepy molestuous tones ("It's not fair. You've spoiled me for other men, you know.") and -- whaddayaknow -- Colman asks Kitty to marry him. They prepare for the enormously British wedding. Somehow collies are involved. And while selecting hymns for the service, Colman has -- ohno! -- a flashback to his marriage to Greer.

The scene that follows probably's what snagged Susan Peters her only nomination:
Wordlessly -- in close-up & seemingly in a single take -- Peters looks into the eyes of her beloved but troubled fiancé. Her face clouds. She sees that the man she loves does not love her. Her lingering smile becomes an anguished grimace. The radiance that moments before conveyed confident rapture crumbles as a clay mask into a mess of confusion and fear. Wordlessly and in about 30 seconds. And what's even better: Susan Peters' nostrils flare at the moment when she understands the truth in her beloved's eyes. It's a glorious, delicious moment of movie acting. To be sure, when those nostrils flared, a star was born! And Lulu became a Susan Peters fan...

Alas. Susan Peters' rising star didn't quite last. Indeed, when starting on the Supporting Actresses of 1942, StinkyLulu had no inkling who Susan Peters might be, let alone how extraordinary, tragic, and short her career would turn out to be. (See, Peters was paralyzed from the waist down in a freak hunting accident just a few years after Random Harvest. Confined to wheelchair & suffering a variety of chronic ailments, Peters worked only occasionally on stage and screen over the next few years, receiving consistent praise but gaining little career momentum. [BTW: If any lovely readers out there in inter-web-land have an idea how Lulu might get a hold of a copy of what is Peters' lost great performance -- the wheelchair-bound tyrant in 1948's The Sign of the Ram, do tell. Lulu'd forever be in your debt.] Nonetheless, Susan Peters' acting career faltered and, in 1952, at the age of 31, Susan Peters died.)

While an early career Supporting Actress Oscar nomination almost inevitably works against career longevity, Peters' work in Random Harvest suggests unusual promise (at least for excellent matriarch work on Big'80s tv). But the grace comes in that her deservedly nominated performance as Kitty in Random Harvest inspires remembrance of her unfortunately truncated career. In a movie nearly overwrought with the lugubrious, mannered melancholy of serious romance, Susan Peters offers an unexpectedly bright (and imperfect) gem of a performance.

Who said Supporting Actress Sundays weren't full of surprises?

"Extend a brotherly greeting to all others you see wearing the Guild pin" (Homo Heritage Fridays)

from The Grecian Guild Pictorial, November 1958, page 37.

The perfect accessory for that guy on the go -- & everyone's gaydar needs a little help now & then. 'Specially in 1958.

Why Lulu's Decided to See United 93...

Lulu decided early this week to see United 93.
(Hasn't done it yet, but remains resolved.)

Not because of a particular desire to see it. Not because of a sense of duty (professional, personal or political) to see it. Not even because Lulu struggled with whether it was "too soon" to see it. Rather, it's mostly because -- echoing the words of ohmytrill in the comments on ModFab's eloquent review -- there's been something "wrong" about the whole hooha surrounding this film & it's got Lulu's spideysense all a'tingle. (Or, put another way, it gives Lulu the creeps.) And Lulu just needs to see the f'n movie because the rhetoric around it is starting to freak Lulu out...

Basically, the buzz Lulu's hearing in praise of the film addresses the film either (or both) as:

• a well-crafted (re)telling of a watershed, defining experience of communal identity. This mostly trickles down from director Paul Greengrass' own voice & his analysis of the passengers of Flight 93 as the first people to inhabit a "Post 9/11" world; or
  
• an expert deployment of the apparatus of cinema to re/create the experience of -- & thereby rescue from the the haze of abstracted memory -- this narrative of now mythic proportions. This Lulu's absorbing from the consistent inflections of awe in reviews offered by folks Lulu admires and respects.
  

So, why? Why do these articulate explanations of the movie's power and appeal freak Lulu out? Well, that's almost hard to say...

Simply put:
Because it's all following the same pattern of buzz that surrounded a particularly polarizing movie from a couple years ago: The Passion of the Christ. (And Lulu saw the first screening of that film on opening day, so Lu should at least get over to this one soon.)

In parallel, the unrelenting emotional intensity of these films -- both of which can only escalate toward a gruesome culmination of redemptive sacrifice -- seem to have created movie-going experiences that "trump" critique, that operate outside the circuit of critical awareness. And few things freak out Lulu more than to hear folks of any ideological stripe use the experience of cinema as emotional "proof" for their beliefs about history. (Compare the voices of "Brian M" & "Peter J" & "MovieFreak" and "T Gisler" & "Robert T" & "United 93 circumspect" & "Phil A" to get a hint of what Lulu's trying to say.) Further, Lulu's not convinced that it's an issue of "emotional cowardice" to articulate resistance to a film for any reason (even lame critiques like "just making money off of it" or "too soon/too much" -- another curious point of coincidence between these 2 post-millenial passion cineplays.)

And, truly, the actual reason Lulu must see this movie is all Star Jones' fault. See, amidst the controversy surrounding The Passion of the Christ, Star Jones went off on The View about how "real" the movie was & how it put the viewer right there with Jesus & how it clarified her commitment to her own faith. Somehow the CGI demons in the forest got brought up -- you remember, lovely reader, the part where Mel Gibson had floaty gender-ambiguous ghosts terrorize Judas into his fateful betrayal, the part where the demonic apex was Satan as a she-male? Well, Star Jones got all giddy with scaredy-movie fear over tranny satan & said something like: "See, it's a great movie too. Mel Gibson's da man. Praise Jesus." (Lulu's paraphrasing, lovely reader, please forgive.) It freaked out Lulu then, just as it freaks Lulu now. See, in the phenomena of Passion, the movie magic of the queer Satan got swept under the fervent rug of faithful testimony. And, for Lulu, that film inadvertently became a cautionary tale about the curious power at play when one's loving a movie.

For Lulu, loving movies means maintaining a profound awareness of how they can -- & when you're lucky, do -- play your heart & mind & spirit like a flute. Yes. Movies really, truthfully, necessarily rile the emotions & the imagination. But. They offer little in the way of reality or truth or necessity. And it just scares Lulu when people start getting all passionately fuzzy on that point.

Because United 93 (like The Passion of the Christ) is just a movie.
No more "real" & no more "true" & no more "necessary" than, say Thank You For Smoking or An American Haunting -- no matter how profound one's reaction may be. Some movies seem to cause folks to forget this; and, it's just such movies that get put in service of ideology in ways that lapse evangelical. And while it's merely a personal idiosyncracy that this particular brand of hooha totally freaks out StinkLulu, it's become time for Lulu to see the dang movie already. Before the righteous moralism surrounding it crushes Lulu's movie-loving spirit anymore than it already has...

Carmen Miranda in SPRINGTIME IN THE ROCKIES (1942) - CouldaWouldaShoulda Wednesdays

Carmen Miranda is precisely the kind of performer that Oscar like to never appreciates. Consider the attributes that -- at least in Oscar's strange little golden noggin -- become the big strikes against her.

1. She's beautiful (plus she plays beautiful characters while being beautiful).
2. She's Latin (thus "not quite white").
3. She's a singing & dancing comedienne (thus & thus, no plus).

Yet, in 2006, Carmen Miranda's one of the few enduringly iconic performers from Hollywood's glory days of the 1940s musical. But isn't Carmen Miranda just the lady who wore fruit on her head? Isn't she mostly a joke? A sight gag that could sing a little and dance a little less? Well, lovely reader, if your answer to any of those questions is "YES" -- it's prolly a good idea that you just don't tell Lulu. Instead, cool those cha cha heels, and let StinkyLulu tell you why Carmen Miranda's performance in Springtime in the Rockies stands as a worthy CouldaWouldaShoulda performance for 1942.

Carmen Miranda shares star billing with Betty Grable, the headliner of the picture under its U.S. title Springtime in the Rockies. (Miranda's the ascendant star of Secretaria Brazileña, the title used to market the same flick to the rest of the Western hemisphere.) 20th Century Fox produced a whole slew of these backstage musical romantic comedies -- sometimes with Grable, sometimes with Alice Faye, always with Carmen -- in the early 1940s. The formula's always the same. The blonde heroine, fleeing something or another, winds up in some glamorous vacation site -- Havana, Buenos Aires, Miami, Lake Louise (!?!) -- where she gets all enmeshed in some inscrutably elaborate romantic intrigue. Typically, said intrigue involves a Brazilian bombshell (Miranda) as some kind of rival. Inevitably, loosey goosey, high-kickerina Charlotte Greenwood is there to provide cynical bon mots as the secretary (or the dresser or the sister or somesuch). Variously appropriate male suitors revolve through variously appropriate doors. Madcap hilarity ensues; sumptuously forgettable musical numbers abound. Suitably heterosexual coupling aligns in the end for a "march toward the camera" musical finale. Good times. El Fin.

"Nice for you to make my acquaintance..."
Carmen Miranda as Rosita Murphy, with Edward Everitt Horton as McTavish, in Springtime in the Rockies (1942).

But something about Springtime in the Rockies is just a little different.
Here, Carmen plays Rosita Murphy (her mother's Brazilian, her father's the American Patrick Murphy, do you know him?) who gets "picked up" (or as Rosita says, "push upped") by the surprisingly hot John Payne on his way to Canada's Lake Louise in pursuit of Betty Grable. Carmen's to be his "secretary" & Edward Everett Horton (whose unmistakable voice Lulu recognized as that of the Narrator from "Fractured Fairy Tales") is to be his "valet" as he woos back Betty Grable. As things proceed, Rosita takes a fancy to the "valet" (who's actually a socially-awkward, totally-loaded toothpaste heir) & sings her distinctive version of "Chattanooga Choo Choo."

Throughout the film, Miranda's Rosita is sweet & clever, not a shrewish harpy as in so many of her films. Further, her naivete becomes neither sheer idiocy nor character flaw. Instead, her naive sophistication turns out to be what saves the day, the show, and the romance. And though adorned with a shocking series of millinery confections, Miranda wears no fruit baskets atop her head in this picture. Sure, Miranda's signature malapropisms ("They spoiled the beans") are always the source of the joke, but -- somehow as Rosita -- Miranda deftly avoids being that joke's target. (Her performances in other Fox films from this era rarely avoid few of these pitfalls.) Indeed, Rosita Murphy's perhaps the only Miranda character that presents an unapologetic celebration of her remarkable beauty, charisma and comic ability. (Plus, she gets the really rich guy in the end.)

So, for your consideration among 1942's CouldaShouldaWouldas:
Carmen Miranda in Springtime in the Rockies.

Supporting Actress Sundays for MAY: 1942

Due to a simple oversight in creating the "ballot" for May, StinkyLulu put the roster for 1942's nominations under the heading of 1941. So, even though 1942 falls numerologically under June, the support for the 1942 roster was so strong that...

StinkyLulu's attention for the month of
May's Supporting Actress Sundays
goes to

1942

• 1942: Teresa Wright in "Mrs. Miniver", Gladys Cooper in "Now, Voyager", Agnes Moorehead in "The Magnificent Ambersons", Susan Peters in "Random Harvest", Dame May Whitty in "Mrs. Miniver"

So stay tuned, lovely reader...
StinkyLulu'll start things out this week with Susan Peters, then devote Mother's Day to über-mother Gladys Cooper, double team the Mrs. Minivers on the 20th, & wrap things up with Agnes on the last Sunday of the month -- the same day that Lulu'll welcome Nat, Nick & TimR for the next Supporting Actress Smackdown (May 27).

But now, lovely reader, Lulu needs your help.
What do you suggest for 1942's CouldaShouldaWouldas?

Lulu's pretty sure that at least one of the five CSW slots for May will go to Carmen Miranda (for either Springtime in the Rockies or 4 Jills), but beyond that Lu's at a loss... Any other performances by Supporting Actresses in 1942 deserve Lulu's tribute? Nominations can be high or lowbrow, trashy or artistic...the only dealbreaking criteria is availability.

So, bring on the circa1942 Supporting Actress lovin'!

Maureen Stapleton in LONELYHEARTS (1958) - Supporting Actress Sundays

It's only fitting that Supporting Actress Sundays conclude its first month of Sundays with a tribute to Maureen Stapleton...

For previous Maureen love, see here, here & here.

And her 1st nominated performance as Faye Boyle in 1958's Lonelyhearts.

Here, MissMo offers the kind of performance that was to become her signature. At first glance, Faye appears to be unremarkable, in turns awkwardly dowdy & brazenly crass. Scratch the surface, though, and Faye emerges with a roaring explosive passion -- passion for life, for sex, for love, for her beloveds.

The story of the film is pretty simple. Based on the Nathanael West novella Miss Lonelyhearts, Montgomery Clift is a struggling young writer, trolling for a break at a newspaper. As the result of a kind of sick powerplay by the newspaper's editor (played here with a disdainful sneer by Robert Ryan, who -- also in 1958 -- played pervy Pa opposite Tina Louise in God's Little Acre), Monty's awarded a gig writing as "Miss Lonelyhearts." Of course, as anyone who's ever seen that very special episode of any trillion sitcoms knows, Monty gets all embroiled in the fact that his replies have an impact on his desparate readers & he threatens to quit. In an inscrutable narrative turn, Monty then takes the evil editor dare to meet a random letter writer, & off Monty goes to meet Faye.

"For seven years, I've been good and decent...as the saying goes."
(Hat tip to The Film Experience for the screencaps.

Faye's feeling trapped in a loving but sexless marriage & doesn't know what to do. She wants to love her husband, he's a good man, but after all she was sorta wild before her marriage, so she knows what she's missing...

"I feel like I'm dying inside. Please tell me what to do."

So, what does Miss Lonelyhearts advise? It's not clear but, in the meantime, Miss Lonelyhearts (aka Montgomery Clift) sleeps with Faye. (No brainer, eh.) And from here, Stapleton's Faye becomes the prototype for subsequent cinematic ladystalkers -- the kind of role that has given filmfreaks the glorious genius work of Jessica Walter, Glenn Close, Jennifer Jason Leigh, and innumerable Lifetime movies...

See Nathaniel's clipreel for this excellent scene.

See, Faye's (understandably) none to pleased with Miss Lonelyhearts' decision to "get some action" and begone. Indeed, Faye "won't be ignored" & keeps on after Miss Lonelyhearts, so much that her husband & the newspaper catches on. From there, the story spirals into a feverish morality tale about (a) vintage 1950s, post-eugenic anxieties about "bad blood" and (b) the debilitating anxieties of the cuckold. Yes, it's just wierd. But along its way to the film's inexplicably coded conclusion -- there's a drunken brawl, much feminine handwringing among the more respectable female characters, a visit to a prison, a shadowy confrontation at the newspaper office, some gun action, and -- through it all -- Faye is completely forgotten. Go figure...

It's a strange little time-capsule of a movie. The ensemble -- which includes Myrna Loy improbably cast as an alcoholic matron with a taste for ginzano (and Montgomery Clift) alongside Uncle Fester as a depressed drama & culture writer (!) -- offers able performances, though it seems each performance is in a different key or register. Something's just "off" about the whole thing -- except when Stapleton takes the screen. When Faye's on a rampage (erotic or raging), everything's clear -- at least for the moment. It's a starmaking, supporting performance. And it's a reminder of everything Lulu's fallen in love with about MissMo.
.................
So, lovely reader, this concludes the Supporting Actress Month of Sundays for 1958. It's been more fantabulous than Lulu ever imagined... Thank you ever so. And be sure to check back on Monday, May 1, for the official announcement of the Supporting Actress Sunday Year for May. (As of this moment, it looks like it'll be 1942.) But there's still time to vote!

The Fabulous Percy (Homo Heritage Fridays)

from Vim: The Magazine for Vigorous Living, October 1964, page 55.

Hmmmmmm.
Percy sorta looks like Michelle Pfeiffer as a drag king.
Innersting...

Lulu's Pfirst Time: Stephanie Zinone in Grease 2 - A Pfeiffer Pforever Tribute

They say you never forget your pfirst time.

StinkyLulu's "pfirst" time came in the summer of 1982.
And it was momentous...

Home in the States just for the summer, Lulu desperately sought moviegoing experiences of all varieties (The Kingdom having not even a single public movie theatre circa 1982.) Some, however, had priority -- & Grease2 was at the top of Lulu's "Must-See" list. Alas, arriving stateside, Lulu was chagrined to discover that Grease2 had been & gone (its box office gruesomely disappointing). Lulu recalls fondling the cast album in some store, wistfully mourning the tragedy of missed opportunities...

So!
Imagine Lulu's surprise when -- on a requisite grandparental trip to El Otro Las Vegas (PapaStinky's hometown) -- StinkyLulu discovered that Grease2 was still playing at the backmountain burg's single screen, The Serf.

Well!
Lil Lulu's excitement nearly blew the roof off PapaStinky's Super70sVan &, right then & there, Lulu began plotting & scheming to see the movie of the summer. So, the second Lil Stinky arrived to AbuelaStinky's trailer & gave quick kisses all around -- StinkyLu was calling for showtimes. Lu drafted StinkyCuz -- she's 3 years older & was always Lu's "bestfriendcousin" -- to escort Lil StinkyLu & off they went to the cinema. (It's cute to recall those moments when Mama&PapaStinky -- indeed, the whole Stinky family -- just knew they were outmatched by StinkyLulu's emergent cultural obsessions.)

Wow!
StinkyLulu knew full well that it would be Adrian (or Maxwell or Peter or even Tom) sneaking into StinkyLulu's fantasies later that night. Nonetheless, StinkyLulu just pfell in love with that gorgeous voiced glamazon in pink satin: Stephanie Zinone. Steph was everything StinkyLu wanted in a girl: she was hot, she was tough & she had pipes. And she wanted a "cool rider" (just like -- sshhh -- Little StinkyLulu):

If you really want to know what I want in a guy
Well, I'm looking for a dream on a mean machine with hell in his eyes
I want a devil in skin tight leather, he's gonna be wild as the wind
And one fine night, I'll be holding on tight to a
Cool rider, a cool rider
If he's cool enough, he can burn me through and through
If it takes forever, then away forever
No ordinary boy, no ordinary boy is gonna do
I want a rider that's cool
That's the way it's gonna be, that's the way I feel
I want a lot more than the boy next door, I want hell on wheels
Just give a black motorcycle with a man growing out of the seat
And move aside 'cause I'm gonna ride with a
Cool rider, a cool rider

Whew!
On the walk home from the theatre, StinkyLulu remembers annoying the f*ck out of StinkyCuz -- yammering this way and that about how gorgeous that new actress Michelle Piper was... StinkyCuz's response: "Yeah? For a blonde..."

And ever since that moment, StinkyLulu has maintained a proud crush on Michelle Pfeiffer -- for the fact that Lulu loved her long before she became a serious actress, that Lulu knew she could sing long before that red-dress-on-a-piano movie, that Lulu knew how to pick 'em... And when StinkyLu started graduate school and the cabaret version of Grease2 opened on campus? It was like an omen -- of many many good things.

After all, they say you never forget your pfirst time.

1958's CouldaWouldaShouldas (+ mini-profile of Lansbury & Remick in LONG HOT SUMMER)

Nick's consistently bemused riff throughout the 1958 Supporting Actress Smackdown has really got Lulu thinking:

The Supporting Actresses of 1958 really were an odd lot. Only Stapleton and Hiller sustained careers of any note, with Martha Hyer and Cara Williams lapsing fairly quickly into obscurity (& Peggy Cass mostly working the panel, couch or dais in various televidiocies of the '60s and '70s).

So what of the snubs? The CouldaShouldaWouldas of 1958?
In addition to Gwen and Tina, it seems a curiously consistent factoid that there were at least four major 1958 releases that each boasted at least two performances that CouldaShouldaWoulda been contenders in this category. Might these performance pairs have cancelled each other out when when it came to ballotting time?

• Nick's Picks of Marlene Dietrich and Mercedes McCambridge in Touch of Evil.
• Hermione Gingold & Elsa Lanchester in StinkyLulu's beloved Bell, Book & Candle.
• The impeccable Judith Anderson & Madeleine Sherwood in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.

Clearly, Dietrich and Gingold (in either BBB or Gigi) are the real contenders in the CouldaShouldaWoulda category. Their exclusions are the real slights where the other omissions just underscore how curious the nominee field for 1958 actually turned out to be. Indeed, a strong case can be made for each of these performances. And they're all worth revisiting. Plus wouldn't it be FABU to have McCambridge's "I. Want. To. Watch." as the shortest nominated performance?

But there's one more film to which StinkyLulu'd like give some especial attention, mostly 'cuz it features two of Lulu's most treasured, the kind of actresses that never top the favorite lists but whose very presence makes almost any movie intrinsically more interesting :
Lee Remick & Angela Lansbury.


The Long Hot Summer is yet another one of those torrid Southern sagas of family intrigue, minus the tawdry tragedy of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and the gawdy goofiness of God's Little Acre. The scenario's fairly simple. Paul Newman (the definition of all kinds of "hot" here) is Ben Quick, a drifter with a real bad rep, who arrives to the Louisiana estate of Will Varner (Orson Welles, perspiring through fake nose and swarthy greasepaint). Nearly immediately, Quick insinuates himself into the financial stakes and personal neuroses of the entire Varner clan, while also enflaming the passionate dis/interest of the unmarried 23 year old "spinster" Clara (Joanne Woodward, giving a thrillingly apt performance). Ultimately, The Long Hot Summer becomes a romance -- part Shakespearean, part soaperatic -- complete with three couples securing the conclusion with wedding plans.


Lee Remick plays Eula, the babydoll newlywed wife of the scion of the Varner family's fortune, Jody (an oddly desparate Anthony Franciosa). Eula's a luscious baby belle who's alternately rattling illuminating inanities or squealing with delight while being pursued by Jody. Remick invests Eula with surprising intelligence & the result is a performance that is much more interesting than the simple role. At 19 in this performance, Remick here shows the actorly acuity that made her one of the best beautiful actresses of her era.


Angela Lansbury plays Minnie Littlejohn, the golddigging town tart with her claws into (and her heart wide open for) the deeply unappealing Will Varner (Welles). Lansbury here is luminously erotic -- believe it -- & her quest to marry the noxious patriarch becomes tender in its misguided ferocity. A lesser actress might have played only the comedy (which Lansbury nails at every turn) but Lansbury adds a simple generosity to the schtick, making a complete character out of what might otherwise been merely a character part.

Both Remick and Lansbury have scanty screen time in this strangely intricate tale. Yet every moment conveys the humanity, intelligence and beauty of their women, who could have just as easily become jokey little Southern caricatures. To Lulu, that's being a real Supporting Actress. And why actresses like Lee Remick & Angela Lansbury are such treasures.

PS: Don't worry Lulu hasn't forgotten about Maureen Stapleton in Lonelyhearts. The final Supporting Actress Sunday for 1958 is still to come: Sunday, April 30. Also, don't forget to VOTE FOR MAY's Supporting Actress Sunday roster. And, finally, thanks to one and all for making this past week of Supporting Actress Sundays so fantabulously fun...