Showing posts with label silliness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label silliness. Show all posts

Friday, July 17, 2009

Torched

I love Torchwood. I have all the annoying enthusiasm of someone who has just discovered a show/music/event/issue that everyone else has known about for years. I’m just jumping with eagerness to bore someone to tears, so thanks for stopping by. Sit down for a bit. Want some coffee?

As I was saying, so many people were tweeting about Torchwood and referring to it in blogs that I felt like I was missing out on the biggest event in popular culture. I mean, if it’s a trending topic on twitter, surely I need to investigate. Now that I’ve seen a few episodes, I feel so much more au currant.

Now, what do I like about Torchwood? Well, I was really impressed by the snappy writing and stellar acting.

Ha ha ha. Yeah, right.

First, the cast all look as if they could be served up with whipped cream, strawberries and a glass of chardonnay. I mean, just look at them:



Aren’t they as tender and delightful as a spring morning? Don't you just want to take them home and have a rumpus? No? Well, whatever. Are you sure you're breathing?

But really, I only had to hear one word: “gay.” That pretty much sealed it for me, 'cause if there’s a gay angle, I am so there. Just call me a voyeuristic deviant. In fact, if you do I’ll say “thanks” because I’ve really been neglecting that side of my personality.

Anyway, I don’t just casually think, “Hey, I’ll check out that show when it comes on next.” No, I’m an obsessive researcher. I scour the Internet for interviews, bios of the actors, episode guides, clips. I’ve now watched wobbly film snippets of the actors speaking at conventions, fan-made videos of favorite scenes overlaid with popular music, and interviews from British talk shows.

So of course I found out that Torchwood pretty much goes to town - girls with aliens, boys with aliens, girls with girls, boys with boys. Or, as one article put it, the sexuality of the characters is “fluid.” And I think we can all agree that fluid sexuality makes for some really good TV. Or maybe you think it's morally corrupt entertainment that plays to our basest instincts. We should check you for a pulse.

One thing I discovered in my research is that the actors are completely adorable off screen. They remind me of the theater kids from high school and college – loud, extroverted, mischievous, always performing, frequently outrageous, and so full of boisterous energy that your life begins to look colorless in comparison. And you wonder if perhaps you missed a turn somewhere, because everyone seems to be having heaps of fun, and wouldn't it be lovely to have an invite?

And you would not believe how these fictional gay romances obsess fans. Well, maybe you do. Here I am, obviously. But the fangirls pursue the topic with a tenacity that boggles the mind. I guess since men have been fantasizing about girl on girl action (not neglected on Torchwood, either) for years, the ladies have jumped at the chance to even the score. Surely those who play straight lovers on TV are not constantly plied with requests that they kiss off screen the way John Barrowman and Gareth David Lloyd are. Not that they aren’t happy to oblige. Not that they seem to mind delivering as much raucus innuendo as any squealing fangirl could possible desire. They aren’t very shy. They flirt and joke and insinuate and generally egg each other on. It’s grand to watch.

My explanation for this somewhat odd, delirious attention is that the media prohibition against depicting gayness fell like the Berlin Wall and now everyone is giddily walking streets that were formerly off limits.

I know I’ve mentioned this before (but don't think that will stop me from saying it again - you might as well have another cup of coffee), but it still floors me that shows like this exist. In my childhood – 30 plus years ago – two men kissing on screen was more unlikely than the end of the Cold War. And then, suddenly, it seemed that film after film was romping around in forbidden territory– Brideshead Revisited, Another Country, Parting Glances, Maurice, My Beautiful Laundrette. At my college students flipped their orientations like coins, and pretty much without embarrassment, brandishing pink triangles and rainbow banners. I have witnessed, in my lifetime, an amazing transformation. Would any actor from my childhood have been as unabashedly open about his sexuality as John Barrowman? Would a straight actor like Gareth David Lloyd have been so blithely unconcerned about his reputation or so completely comfortable with his role? I know it’s an incomplete transformation. People are still victimized because of sexual orientation. There’s still enormous resistance (which I cannot and never will understand) to gay marriage. Some are utterly disgusted (which I also cannot fathom). Others think it's unbiblical (oh give me a break and stop picking out the same damn verses from Leviticus and Paul's letters). But, I can’t help but survey the scene and say, “Wow.”

I’m making it sound as if Torchwood is devoted solely to the sexual shenanigans of its characters, which it isn’t. It’s just the part that most interests me! I never claimed to be deep, or particularly refined. I mean, look again at that photo. Strawberries and whipped cream, and maybe not chardonnay but champagne. So, the storylines may be a bit lame at times, and the special effects not always effective. John Barrowman may let his theatrical background leak through a bit too much and hog the attention. But, you know what, I’m happy to be walking around Berlin.

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Video killed the radio star but it's a slow, slow death

I’ve come to realize lately that my musical landscape has become increasingly flat and barren. At some point I just gave up trying to be alternative. Little Miss DramaQueen has to have music on in the car, so I listen to a lot of radio, and boy is it ever dreary. And repetitious. I think there are perhaps 12 songs in rotation at the moment. But, amidst the merely banal are the songs that really annoy the crap out of me, songs that haunt the radio stations and my brain for months and years on end.

This is just my opinion, of couse. I don't even pretend to be objective or to have some actual knowledge of musical worth. But, in my universe, these are the current songs that have all the appeal of banging my head with a heavy rock:

1. Love Story by Taylor Swift. Romeo and Juliet? Are you kidding? Oh, and throw in a brief mention of the Scarlet Letter. Stupid lyrics, stupid sentiment, really annoying, sugar-sweet vocals (and more highly processed than Kraft singles). Squeak squeak squeak.

2. Poker Face by Lady GaGa. How long before this song dies a welcome and overdue death? When Just Dance came out I thought it was catchy and fun - something I would hear in gay clubs across the nation. Now I feel like I’ve been played.

3. Your Body is a Wonderland by John Mayer. Gawd, don’t even get me started. "Bubblegum tongue”? Is that supposed to be cute? whimsical? It sure isn’t sexy. I’ll take Nine Inch Nails' Closer any time over this oh-so-sensitive celebration of the feminine. That NIN video is the uncensored one, btw. I know Closer is old enough to be a classic by now and was pretty much played to death, but it may still be unfamiliar to some of you. Somehow I missed seeing this rather remarkable video (part of the MOMA permanent collection, no less). But a warning for anyone who doesn't know the song, if the eff word plus the phrase "like an animal" upsets you, please move along to the next exhibit. I'll wait for the rest of you to take a peek. What, back so soon? Yes, it is a bit disturbing; I never thought of animal carcasses in that context, either. Or eels.

4. Come on Get Higher by Matt Nathenson. Suffers from the same “I’m a sensitive guy” syndrome as Your Body is a Wonderland. Take, for example, the lyrics "faith and desire and the swing of your hips." Isn't that just sooooo sweet and non-agressive? Awww.

5. Birthday Sex by Jerimih. There is nothing so icky as slow hip-hop/R&B. It’s like being felt up by a stranger on the subway. You feel like you need to bathe. I could also include some songs by the completely weird Lil Wayne. Listening to him is like being slobbered over by a hiccupping lech.

6. 1234 by the Plain White Ts. Irritatingly catchy. Really catchy, and for that reason really irritating. Just so damn cute. I’ll listen to the original Beatles, thank you very much.

7. Give You Hell by All American Rejects. Frat boys of the world unite in an anthem to your idiotic delusions of self-importance. Believe me, that girl wakes up every morning grateful that she isn’t stuck with you. She’s moved on, sweetie. So should you.

8. My Life Would Suck Without You by Kelly Clarkson. When she starts belting out that chorus, I want to shred paper with my teeth.

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But just to show you that I’m not a bitter old curmudgeon too stuck up to like popular music, I will admit rather sheepishly that my current favorite song is Halo by Beyonce. Love. This. Song. I know, I can't seem to give up my angel obsession. You'll just have to suffer through it or not look. I offer you links to two Halo videos, the official Beyonce one, and this amusing homoerotic version. At least it's amusing to me. Even if it is something of an insider's joke, you can still enjoy looking at the pretty boys - you don't have anything against pretty boys, I hope. HoYay!

Now, which link did you click?

I can tell if you're lying.

Saturday, April 11, 2009

A Different Sort of Praise

I'm not one for Christian praise music, so sometimes I have to grab something out of the secular world that makes me feel celebratory. I often find secular music more uplifting than the stuff we sing in church. Christian music just tries too hard.



This lightens my heart.

And then, this song has always struck me as truly reverent and joyous: