I don’t have guilty pleasures.

If you love something — be it purebred or mongrel — it’s worth loving, and there’s no shame in that.

If I could go through the flat-screen looking glass and become part of the narrative world therein, then certainly I’d be the fourth and lone male member of The Carrie Nations in Beyond The Valley of The Dolls, engage in a threeway on a bed full of money with John Phillip Law and Marisa Mell in Danger: Diabolik, or be in a red loincloth and thigh-highs chanting “The Penis Is Evil!” in Zardoz.

Still, if I ever was truly given the chance to emigrate from this mortal coil into Movie Land, I’d seriously contemplate taking the plunge into the early ’80s schlock opus known as Hercules. Not just for the spectacle. Not just for the awesome production design. Not just for the killer robots.

For the incredible sex god called Lou Ferrigno. (read the full article)

Here’s the thing:

99% of Hollywood comedies are awful — plastic, empty, mirthless, lazily-penned, artificial tripe that’s the cinematic equivalent of Velveeta.

Hollywood comedies cling to asinine cliches that have no relevant connection to real life. Working women lose all sense of dignity when invited to a friend’s wedding and feel the need to pay male co-workers to be their dates. Hetero men are all fumbling man-children who are unable to handle infants without getting sprayed with urine. Declarations of love happen just before someone boards a plane to France. Adults turn into teenagers, or people switch bodies.

I’ll spare everyone the eye-rollingly horrible trailer for The Change-Up because it features two of these idiot conceits. However, it does boast one novel flourish: naked Jason Bateman admiring his own taint with a mirror. I did not expect Jason Bateman to be this hot in the buff.

A Hollywood comedy has succeeded in edifying me.

Mind. Blown.

So as a director, you hire a witty, randy, gay Scottish actor to slum it up in your Z-grade, mostly-dubbed over monster epic. He likely takes the job as an excuse for a vacation in an exotic setting, and he’s obviously laughing during sequences that are supposed to be tense and harrowing.

The time comes to shoot a key moment of romance between he and the film’s wooden leading lady after the horrible demise of another character. He’s a pro in the kiddie pool, so you let him improvise his dialogue in order to ratchet up his costar’s performance. He deadpans an ab-libbed line he assumes is destined for the cutting room floor, but because the project’s a total howler anyway, you opt to leave it in the final cut, thus ensuring Shark Attack 3: Megalodon‘s ascension into immortality and the coining of a douchey come-on that’s since been used countless times but has never actually scored.

Hat tip to Michael Adams.

Spider-Man apparently getting the Tawny Kitaen treatment on the roof of a car by the lead singer from the excruciating Nickelback.

The truth is, every gay nerd has entertained some fantasy in which Peter Parker ditches the bitches and gets defiled by one — or all — of the villains.

Mine involves Spidey — as played by muscle twink Kurt Wild — being overwhelmed and compelled into reverse cowboying leopard-print-clad Colton Ford as great white hunter Kraven while sucking off his sons (I’m flexible on casting here), who cheer Dad on and fight for PP’s ass as if it were a rare and precious rhino horn.

In the end, Spidey gets sprayed with webbing of a whole different kind, and still virtuous even in defeat, takes his long walk of shame home, plotting slow and merciless Revenge!

Earlier this month, the Proposition 8 appeal in California was almost bumped from the 9th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals to the California Supreme Court after the federal courts questioned the legal standing of the defendants of the proposition. These defendants include the former Governor (Schwarzenegger), Attorney General (Jerry Brown), county clerks, and state health department officials, who forthrightly do not support the proposition. What does this mean?

The appeal is getting closer to federal courts, increasing the threat against Prop 8.

Political expectations aside, to commemorate the victories and losses in this civil rights battle over the past three years, I decided to watch the critically-acclaimed documentary 8: The Mormon Proposition. The film looks at the underbelly of this unprecedentedly-funded Proposition 8 to reveal its primary supporter and funder — the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (The Mormon Church, for all you faithfully agnostic and atheist folks). In addition to delving into the church’s involvement in the political fundraising, the film also explores the lobbying and religious support the church required from its congregation, and the results of church’s staunchly anti-gay agenda.

(read the full article)

One of my all-time favorite movie exchanges:

“Hi, kids. Where’s your father?”

“He’s upstairs masturbating to gay porn.”

Props for the impersonations of Moe Szyslak, Cookie Kwan, and (especially) Ned Flanders, which are surprisingly spot-on. And for the record, it appears that everything will be I Am Curious (Yellow).

Great frickin’ tits at 00:52. Hers are nice too.

Irrefutable proof that The Black Swan is just an upscale art house remake of Showgirls. !sevil imoN

“Before him, swaying like a sapling in the wind, stood a woman. Her body was like ivory to his dazed gaze, and save for a light veil of gossamer, she was naked as the day. Her slender bare feet were whiter than the snow they spurned. She laughed down at the bewildered warrior. Her laughter was sweeter than the rippling of silvery fountains, and poisonous with cruel mockery.”

— Robert E. Howard, The Frost Giant’s Daughter

I am gay for Narnia.

I know the books at times play like a protracted Sunday school lesson, their collective morality is awfully facile, and their preoccupation with either turning adults back into dutiful kiddies or ditching kids when they start to mature is troubling. Still, I love the magical wardrobe, the faun, the lamppost that grows like a tree, and the enchanted winter.

And goddamnit, I love that witch. (read the full article)