Aug 11, 2007

And I Danced My Life Away...

Time for another gay movie review. Trick is the story of Gabriel Bloom (Christian Campbell), an aspiring musical theatre (dying art form) writer in NYC (also dying). One night, he falls in lust with Mark (John Paul Pitoc), a go-go boy at a local bar. Later, while going home alone (again) on the subway, he happens into him, and a one night stand is in the making. But as the night unfolds, friends, family and roommates all trump a "cheap" gay one night stand, and it makes for an interesting morality tale of how one by one, each trump card is proven to have no real value, while the horny gay lovers wind up holding the best hand - though finally they have to declare it... even demand it.

Tori Spelling is the "diva" (every gay movie seems to require a diva of at least tangential fame) who plays the insecure, self-obsessed NYC actor to a T.

Shot just before 9/11, the the twin towers frequently brood in the background, shining bronze in the gritty sunset, ominous sentinels... but only in hindsight.

What got my eso-homoerotic (Thanks Filmnoir23) "spidy-sense" tingling were a few little things:

Gabriel's friend Perry sings at an off Broadway piano bar. The song he chooses to sing is "Como te gusta mi pinga?" which is a fabulous (and profound) comment on genital shame (my BIG issue). Perry sings the song in a sort of mincing, campy way, but when he sings the name "Montalbán", he belts it out like King Kong.

Ricardo Montalbán is the proprietor of Fantasy Island, and even more so: Kahn - the genetically enhanced, pec-implanted nemesis of El Capitan Kirk in Star Trek II. Thing is, I love big pecs - I can be hypnotized by a bodybuilder dancing his pecs. In a way, Kahn is another example of the fear/parody of overt masculine sexiness. Between the Borg, Kahn, and the Jem Hadar (addicted to "white") there's something up. I wonder, in the Star Trek universe, on what team I'd play?


What's unusual to me about this movie is that I've personally played a few of the parts. I've stood entranced at the beauty of a go-go boy. I've been to a gay piano bar off Broadway (the "narrow way"?) I've asked an older friend to use his apartment for a one night stand, which at the time was, I assure you, the single most important event on earth.

Monte Albán is a pre-Columbian archeological site in Oaxaca, which I happened to visit back in the day. My strongest memory of the visit was standing with a group of tourists while listening to the guide, and one of the tourists announced, in her best 'church lady' voice, "Hmhm! THEY knew the meaning of the cross!" At which my PK travel companion rolled his eyes and murmured under his breath: "Mormons!" I was like, WTF?

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