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January 06, 2003

Out, out west

Next month Marvel Comics’ cowboy hero The Rawhide Kid comes back in print, and comes out, subtly but unequivocally. Of the Lone Ranger, he quips, “I just want to meet him. I think that mask and powder-blue outfit are fantastic. I can certainly see why that Indian follows him around.” Ha. My favorite promo line from the website is “No one handles a hot rod like the Rawhide Kid!” Gee, someone’s having fun over there at Marvel. Issue Number 1 goes on sale the week of Feb. 6.

Love among men (and hobbits and elves, oh my!). Though the purported (remember, I have yet to see the movie) homoerotic undertones in The Two Towers are tantalizing and encouraging, and I’m definitely not one to object, I am moved to note the following: such a reaction, even whether positive, is simply a function of our deep-seated homophobic (there, I said it) social conventions. Imagine if men were allowed to express friendship openly and affectionately, the way women can. A sensitive, caring Fellowship wouldn’t seem so extraordinary. But it’s not the case, because specific gender roles are so ingrained in our collective behavior. These change over time, to be sure, and lines are continually blurred—that’s what’s encouraging—but these conventions, embedded in our cultural subconscious, are forces to be reckoned with.

Hm. I didn’t mean for this to turn into such a serious ramble, so I’ll leave it at that. For now.

P.S. Queered out yet? (Ooh, I like that word now: “queered.” Like “weird.” Anyway.) Fine. Here’s an interesting little essay (albeit from the conservative Claremont Institute) on the political undertones of The Two Towers, both the book and movie.

And lastly, I found out about this through one of the Stanford alumni mailing lists: don’t know what to do with your old cell phone? Donate it to the Call To Protect campaign to prevent domestic violence. The foundation pre-programs used, inactive phones with 911 and other emergency numbers, and distributes them to domestic violence victims, so they can access emergency assistance quickly, if the need arises. Sounds like a good cause to me. I’ll send in my old Nokia; it’s just been sitting in a shoebox for a while now, and could use a new purpose in life.

On your toes: ‘Talk to Her’

I laughed. I cried. Really. Talk to Her (“Hable con ella”), the latest flick from Pedro Almodóvar, is quirky, funny, disturbing, heartstring-tugging. A must-see that keeps you on your toes. (Yes, I’m a ghostwriter for Roger Ebert.) An interesting tidbit from the Salon.com review:

As in most Almodóvar movies, the homoerotic subtext isn’t a subtext at all—it’s a mysterious, shifting glimmer of light that floats on the surface of the story. That’s one of the things that make Almodóvar’s movies so freeing; he has no interest in hanging helpful identification labels on the nebulous (or not so nebulous) attraction between unlikely people.
Very true. And for those of you making early Oscar picks, Talk to Her isn’t eligible for Best Foreign-Language Film, because Spain has already picked another movie as its official entry. Pity. (Nominations will be announced Tuesday, Feb. 11).

Picture perfect: ‘Far from Heaven’

Last weekend I saw Far from Heaven. Julianne Moore and Dennis Quaid are well-cast. The thing is, not only does it take place in the 1950s, the stylistic touches seem to be of the period as well: very melodramatic, from the opening titles to the music to the camera angles (lots of “dun dun DUN” moments). It’s an homage to an earlier era of filmmaking—and all the more refreshing because it deals with homosexuality in ways that films of that time did not, of course—and as long as you keep that in mind, it’s entertaining without being parodic. Well, okay, there are a few giggle-worthy moments (at least with the audience when I saw it), especially in Moore’s portrayal, restrained but barely over-the-top, of the perfect ‘50s housewife.