Number three (surprise!) in the gay compilation
franchise. I don't know about you, but when a movie is called
BOYS LIFE 3, and I see a poster of a wet 'n' wild daddy
reclining on a bed, I expect at least titillation if not
all-out carnal delight. In this outing, the spirit may have
been willing, but the flesh was decidedly weak.
The French film MAJORETTES IN SPACE (written
and directed by David Fourier, 1996) is a six-minute mild
rant against homophobia and Catholicism. Remember this graffito?
"Love is blind. God is love. Ray Charles is God."
MAJORETTES... employs the same logic to make its point,
and borrows its style from those English bedwetting types,
Monty Python. The title comes from a discussion of who's
celibate: The Soyuz cosmonauts are-unless their mission
is a long one. Majorettes are-they're too young. The Pope
is-plus he communicates with celestial beings. There are
no performances here, and no plot. MAJORETTES... is an editorial
built around a cute idea which may entertain you, or, as
in my case, bring the ennui. Those wacky French.
HITCH (wr. and dir. by Bradley Rust Grey,
1999) takes us on a road trip with the driver of a van,
who is gay, and a hitchhiker, a cutie who talks such an
agressively hetero game during the day that its a foregone
conclusion that he doth protest too much. At night, the
driver very clinically masturbates the hitchhiker to an
orgasm that he's conveniently unaware of come the dawn.
Okay, I guess there could be a metaphor here for being real,
real closeted, but I was mostly checking my watch and waiting
for HITCH to end. The scenery-muted brown hills and plains
and fine, tanned men-is pleasant, but the trip goes nowhere.
INSIDE OUT (wr. and dir. by Jason Gould, 1996)
is a family affair in several senses. Jason Gould cast his
dad, Elliott, himself, and his brother, Simon, as well as
other Hollywood progeny (Joan Crawford's daughter Christina,
Ed Asner's daughter Nancy) in this tale of children of celebrities.
Poor little rich kids! They get the headaches of fame-paparazzi
(an amusing Jon Polito) hanging around their homes, absurd
stories about them in the tabloids-without the adulation.
No wonder they're a little off! They're privileged, they're
special-they went to Hollywood High!-but the only reason
anyone's ever heard of them is because of their famous parents!
Frankly, this movie, which tried very hard to be quirky,
reflects the same complaint. It's a film with good production
values and distribution that it likely would never have
received without celebrity parents.
JUST ONE TIME (wr. and dir. by Lane Janger,
1998), with its O. Henryesque twist at the end, was a sight
for bored eyes. It's the pretty cute tale of a guy who asks
his girlfriend to fulfill a sexual fantasy of his, despite
her objections to the desired act. Sooner than he could've
expected, though, she takes him up on it. Dead funny and
presenting the first actors who actually seem to be awake,
JUST ONE TIME almost made up for sitting through the first
$30 (wr.Christopher Landon, dir. Gregory Cooke,
1999) begins as an appalling tale of a father giving his
kid $30 and sending him upstairs to lose his virginity with
a prostitute (Sara Gilbert). Things don't go well in the
sack though, leading the son to reveal his homosexuality
to the hooker. Naturally, there's a connection made after
this; if these two don't bond, they at least have a couple
of good moments. Easily the best of the bunch, $30 covered
the landscape of adolescent sexuality, ranging gracefully
and easily from the terror to tenderness and humiliation
to good humor.
BOYS LIFE 3 is recommended only for absolutely
devoted followers of the series.
-Roxanne Bogucka, an Action Grrl