In August 1984, just after getting my M.A. in English, I drove 1000 miles south to Hell-fer-Sartain, aka Texas, for the worst year of my life. I hated everything about Texas:
The innumerable construction sites with scattered nails that gave you a flat tire at least once a week.
The 24-hour a day traffic jams
The postal carrier who delivered my mail to random houses in the neighborhood.
The bank that deposited my money into someone else's account
The nearest gay neighborhood, 20 miles away (an hour drive in the traffic jam)
The absurdly closeted local gay men ("I can't hook up with you; you have neighbors. Someone might hear us!").
You might expect me to go to a lot of movies as an escape, but in fact the nearest movie theater was in the mall, three miles away, through a 24-hour traffic jam, past six construction sites to give me yet another flat tire. During my nine months in Hell-fer-Sartain, I saw only 10.
August: Oxford Blues, with Rob Lowe, then an androgynous prettyboy whom everyone assumed was gay, as a teenage operator who chases the Girl of His Dreams to England and cons his way into Oxford University. All men are competitors, bullies, or villains; all women are kind, loving, and gentle. Heterosexism to the max, but in 1984 I didn't think anything of it; every movie was like that.
September: Amadeus, with Tom Hulce, whom I later discovered was actually gay, as a rabble-rousing Mozart who spars with establishment composer Salieri.
October: The Terminator, with Arnold Schwarzenegger as a naked cyborg assassin from the future, out to kill Sarah Connor before she can give birth to the man who will save humanity. In sequels, he turns into a good guy. Meanwhile Sarah falls in love with a human from the future.
November: A Nightmare on Elm Street. A child-murderer assassinated by angry parents returns to seek revenge, stalking out contemporary teenagers in their dreams. Today I'm annoyed by the assumption that everyone on Earth is Roman Catholic, and by the wacky belief that failure to sign the proper documents will allow a man on trial for killing a lot of kids to go free. I don't remember being annoyed in 1994. Having seen hundreds of movies since, I've become more critical.
December: The Flamingo Kid, with Matt Dillon, another androgynous prettyboy, as a poor Brooklyn boy who draws the interest of a fast-talking con artist. A definite gay subtext, in spite of the time spent on Matt chasing the Girl of His Dreams.
December: Johnny Dangerously, with Michael Keaton as a poor New York boy who draws the interest of a fast-talking gangster. The plot hinges on his love for his brother (Griffin Dunne), in spite of the requisite Girl of His Dreams trope.
January: The Falcon and the Snowman. Timothy Hutton and Sean Penn play a falconry expert and a cocaine dealer who sell military secrets to the Soviets so they can make enough money to settle down together. A strong gay subtext in spite of the girlfriends in the background.
February: Witness. Detective Harrison Ford is assigned to protect a young Amish boy who witnessed a murder. Naturally, he falls in love with the boy's mother. If you are interested in seeing an Amish woman washing her breasts, this is the movie for you. If you are interested in beefcake, no.
March: None
April: Private Resort, a teen sex comedy starring Johnny Depp, then the heart throb on the teen cop drama 21 Jump Street, and Rob Morrow as his heterosexual life partner, on the prowl for girls at a "private resort." I figured that there would be some beefcake, but actually the bikini babes outnumber the bicep boys ten to one.
May: Gotcha, with Anthony Edwards as a college student in Europe who gets mixed up with spies and meets the Girl of His Dreams. There's a gratuitous strip-search scene with a stunning underwear bulge. Or maybe it was memorable because it was so unexpected. Any attention to the male form was rare in 1985, and underwear (other than boxers) practically non-existent.
In May, the moment I finished grading the final exams for my classes in Bonehead English at Redneck University, I jumped into my car and started driving. I didn't stop for anything until I was halfway through Mississippi.
That's NOT what Mozart and Salieri's relationship was like. No poisonings or anything. tt Hollywood...
ReplyDeleteI have a VHS tape of Terminator somewhere. The nude scene is heavily damaged because I played it on slow, rewound it, and repeat over and over. Then I got a DVD.
Also, that reminds me of how Deathstroke was originally called the Terminator but DC changed that, even though he was created in 1980? Schwarzenegger should've been Deathstroke in the Schumacher movies.
Nightmare is kind of interesting, since it averts some of the slasher movie checklist. The killer is still motivated by sex, but it's his sexual issues (Freddie's a pedophile.), not just seeing teens have sex or reveal boobies in front of a window.
Private Resort reminded me of the old Beach Boys song "Two girls for every boy..." Hollywood heard that and thought "Great idea! Now let's kick it up a notch!"
I have it on dvd also
DeleteNow you made me want to watch "Gotcha" who also has cute Nick Corrie in the cast
ReplyDeleteThe sequel to Nightmare is (in)famous for its heavy gay subtext, despite the heteronormative stuff.
ReplyDelete"Nightmare of Elm Street 2" is one the gayest horror films ever made
ReplyDeleteAlas for the alternate timeline where the Broadway cast of Amadeus (Tim Curry and Ian McKellan) were also in the film!
ReplyDelete