Brokeback

I wrote about “Brokeback Mountain” in my column this week. If you haven’t seen the movie, you must. It’s amazing and touching and all that the gays talk about nowadays. It seems like the heteros are talking about it, too. So, go. Yeah. And read my column, too–but after you’ve seen the movie. Here’s a taste:

There has never been a filmed gay love story directed by a major auteur, starring important actors, that was the favourite to win the Oscar for Best Picture. In fact, there has never been a filmed gay love story that could even be called good. When you have never seen your emotions depicted on screen other than as dirty or tangential or cause for a joke, anticipating something like Brokeback Mountain, in which your emotions are promised to be treated with respect and truth—well, that kind of anticipation is palpable. It can lead to countdowns on gay.com.

UPDATE:

I guess the column has struck a chord. The comments are many, and it’s #1 on the Maisonneuve website.

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Maybe it’s not the moon at all / I hear Spike Lee’s shooting down the street

So, I wrote a really long essay about “Rent” for Maisy this week. Here’s the pull quote:

The problems with the film Rent have nothing to do with the ages of the actors or director Chris Columbus’s lack of vision; they have to do with how the original show was written, how its history has been re-written, and how Rent was transformed from a little musical to a billion-dollar commodity.

I think I’m getting nerdier. I use words like “commodity.” Anyway, please read. Thanks!

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It’s a pathetic life

I’ll probably get hate mail (and I loooooooove hate mail!) for my latest column, which is about “It’s A Wonderful Life,” which I didn’t care for so much. Sorry. Acually, no. I’m not sorry. Anyway, take a gander. Leave a comment. God Bless.

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Don’t Cry Out Loud

I can’t believe I admitted on the website of a major North American magazine that I cried while watching the series finale of “Felicity.” Okay, maybe Maisonneuve isn’t major yet, but it’s at least minor, rather than nonexistent. So, anyway, folks will know that I’m a crier. And that I may have almost cried while reading Charles Peirce last week. Oh, and all of this is because I cried a little while watching “In Her Shoes,” Curtis Hanson’s latest work of genius. Maybe not genius, but at least damn fine. Anyway, read it, would you? Thanks.

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The Sound Of A Bomb

After a long hiatus–ya know, moving and stuff–I have new column up at Maisy. It’s about the end of summer disaster movie. I’m not referring to disaster movies like Earthquake or Dante’s Peak, but rather sucky movies released at the end of the summer to hide them from the press, the audience, or bigger movies that might beat them up. We saw “A Sound of Thunder,” which sucked. Here’s the column. Please read. Thanks!

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