Scotty Bowers is a Flaming Queen: A review of "Full Service"

SCOTTY BOWERS IS A FLAMING QUEEN: A REVIEW OF "FULL SERVICE: My Adventures in Hollywood and the Secret Sex Lives of the Stars." Scotty Bowers with Lionel Friedberg. Grove Press; 2012.

Oy vey! The lengths some people will go to to deny they're gay even while writing about all the guys they've been to bed with, and not always for money. Scotty Bowers, procurer for the stars and male prostitute in old Hollywood -- he is now 88 -- writes about many married men with wives and kids who were secretly homosexual, but seems to think because he keeps saying he really prefers women, adds one chapter about two women he was allegedly in love with, and has an [un-pictured] wife he married past the age of sixty, that this means he's not gay! One at least hopes he wouldn't resist the label "bisexual" although if memory serves me well he doesn't use it to describe himself in this pretty tedious book.

Look, we already know about Rock Hudson, Tyrone Power, Cary Grant and Randolph Scott, the phony "romance" between Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy, and so on. The only thing that may be new in here is that both the Duke and Duchess of Windsor were bisexual [well on one page they're bisexual; on the next page they're "essentially gay."] Bowers claims to have had sex with both of them. You'd think he'd be embarrassed to admit it, but then this guy thinks Walter Pidgeon is "handsome."

If Gore Vidal and William Mann, who has written books on Hepburn and Gay Old Hollywood [hopefully not with Bowers as a major source], want to praise this piece of shit, let them, although I wonder if they wrote their endorsements before actually reading the book! It's not that many of Bowers' assertions about the homosexuality of Hollywood's leading players and the many closeted gays among the "straight" married community are false, but that Bowers is absolutely the wrong person to be relaying the information. First, rightly or wrongly, who takes whores and procurers seriously? Second, even if some of his claims are true, it's hard to believe that Bowers personally witnessed or experienced everything he says -- much of it actually sounds like second or third-hand knowledge [if not gossip and rumors]. Third, Bowers, despite his strong connection to the gay community [or the closeted variation thereof back in the day], does his unconvincing best to set himself somehow above and apart the "queens" he mostly writes about. He gives lip service to Gay Rights, but this is a guy who has fond memories of being molested at nine and of the men who molested him as well, which is just pathetic. Do we really want his support?

I suppose one could argue that his being molested [assuming the story is even true] made him sexually confused and non-judgmental about sexuality [and more adventurous], but he really just comes off like a self-deluding "old queen." [And in his book jacket photo, in which he seems to have Shirley Temple curls on his head, certainly looks like one, which is ironic.] He writes that when he read a piece Tennessee Williams [for a whore he certainly had a whole shitload of important "friends," all of whom, of course, were close confidantes] wrote about him, he urged the famed playwright to destroy it because it made him seem like the "fairy godmother of the entire gay world in the City of Angels." And that certainly wouldn't do for such a straight stud as Scotty.

While it may be entirely admirable that Bowers has a healthy, realistic and non-judgmental attitude towards different kinds of sexuality [although his acceptance of pedophilia is rather problematic to say the least!] his sensibility is still stuck back in the pre-Stonewall period. He talks about all the married men who like cock, referring to some of them as bisexuals, but then writes about many of the hustlers who had sex with his clients as "straight" guys just because they may have had girlfriends or slept with women. Duh! It's that whole tiresome "rough trade," allegedly "gay for pay" crap that in these days of "Out and Proud" just seems terribly unrealistic and dated, "sexual fluidity" be damned. Besides if his clients can supposedly be bisexual, why couldn't the hustlers be as well?

The book is so indifferently written that it fails to make any of these people come alive with any depth, and it certainly has no compelling erotic descriptions like well-written porn.

Amazingly, Full Service is kind of boring. I imagine unsophisticated straight people from Iowa [no offense,Iowa] may find this "juicy" but for everyone else I would recommend saving your money.  

Going Off Half-"Cocked": A Review of Mike Barlett's play "Cock"

COCK. [Or Bob and Rose Redux]. A play by Mike Bartlett.

[NOTE: This is a review of the published play, which originally appeared in London before being exported to New York, not of a particular production or performance.]

Well, after reading this play in its published form, I'm glad I didn't waste money going to see the new production. I just finished reading it and I'm jotting down my impressions quickly, because Cock is the kind of play you forget not long after seeing -- or in this case -- reading it.

The premise may seem new, but isn't. A man named John has been in a committed relationship with another man [simply called "M"] for several years but feels some dissatisfaction with his mate. During a brief "separation" John meets a woman [simply called "W"], has sex with her, and thinks he may have fallen in love, even though he's never had the slightest interest in women before. He goes back to M, however, but continues to see W. In a completely contrived situation [but then the whole play is contrived] John suggests that he, M, and W all have dinner together at M's home, where M's father [simply called "F"] also shows up to give his son moral support. Without giving anything away, John seems to make a choice but still seems conflicted at the end. For me a highly offensive note of the latest production is that the whole thing plays like some kind of boxing match, with Gay Man vs Straight Woman for the love of [unworthy] John. 40 years after Stonewall and we're still not past this shit?

Plays, stories and films about men being torn between women and other men are nothing new. [The movie A Different Story, the play Find Your Way Home, British TV's Bob and Rose are just a few.] The "new" wrinkle is the playwright's suggestion that John is bisexual, although it seems unlikely, even if he'd never had a heterosexual experience, that he wouldn't have realized long before that he was attracted to women. Surely in college he knew plenty of women, saw sexy ladies in advertisements, knew a few people who labeled themselves bisexual. His explanation is that everyone was congratulating him for coming out, he found a support network, etc., but this is all quite unconvincing. There was nothing to prevent him from dating/sleeping with women, as some gay men do on occasion, and he admits that he was always just interested in guys. Some may buy into the notion of "latent heterosexuality" but I think it's a crock.

John comes off less as a genuine bisexual than as a gay guy who's disillusioned with his lover [and therefore, ridiculously, with gay life], likes the way this rather desperate woman makes him feel like a man [whereas his lover makes him feel like a child], yet the play never examines the fact that there are plenty of men out there who don't feel as if they're "real" men unless they're fucking or involved with women. Playwright Bartlett simply dodges this aspect of internalized homophobia. Let's put it this way -- if John is bisexual, he definitely has a preference, and it isn't women. [It must be said that Bartlett does seem to capture the tiresome angst of some bi-identified individuals on the Internet, where he probably got most of his ideas and much of his dialogue.]

Late in the play John complains that it was his parents' generation who came up with "gay" and "straight" and who needs the labels now that "we have our rights," to which his lover wisely answers that we don't have all our rights and people are always trying to chip away at them anyway. John -- and perhaps playwright Bartlett -- may have a point that it shouldn't matter who or what you're sleeping with, but both miss the point that the disparity between acceptance of hetero and homo behavior is still wide, and Gay Pride has for years been one way of addressing and correcting that. Instead of Gay Pride, Cock gives us a gay man about to meet his boyfriend's female lover and saying it will be "THE ULTIMATE BITCHFIGHT!" Yuchh!

Just as big a problem is that Bartlett fails to create three-dimensional characters. I know we're long past the days of Eugene O'Neill and Tennessee Williams, but Bartlett can't even give his characters names let alone real substance. M comes dangerously close to being a gay stereotype. W never explains why she clings so desperately to a man who's essentially queer [be he gay or bi] -- why can't she just let the fellow be gay and find a perfectly nice straight fellow -- just because of one bad marriage? F for Father, a gay-friendly straight man who loves his son and cares for John, delivers more of the Gay Lib stuff than his son does, but that's probably not a bad decision on Bartlett's part, but he, too, seems to exist just to make a few good points. I suppose the point could be made that John is a conflicted bisexual stereotype as well, as if he needs both male and female lovers when Bi advocates always claim that is simply not true of bi people.

One could argue that at least some of Bartlett's dialogue is clever, but that likely means he'd be better off writing sitcoms than serious theater. In interviews the unprepossessing Bartlett refuses to reveal if he's gay, straight, bi, or even A for Asexual. Again we get the "I'm against labels" argument, but I've always suspected that those who are against labels are just queers who are in the closet out of shame and embarrassment. Reading Cock, I got the impression that Bartlett simply did a little research on the Internet, watched some old TV shows, and threw together something that he felt would be provocative, giving it an attention-getting title [Cock indeed!], and hoped for the best. The reviews have been surprisingly favorable, perhaps for the actors or perhaps because straight critics want to seem trendy and gay-friendly and gay critics are terrified of being seen as politically-incorrect [whereas I don't give a shit]. I find Cock to be so generally clueless and superficial that it could easily have been written by some straight married guy who doesn't have the vaguest understanding of what he's even writing about. I mean this is a play in which a gay man and straight woman are pitted against each other [whereas in real life many gay men and straight and gay women have wonderful non-sexual relationships] and both are more or less presented as "bitches!" How progressive is that!

Reading the play gives you time to explore and go-over the dialogue, which you can't do in the theater. I have to say that ultimately it doesn't matter whether you think John is gay or bisexual, should stay with M or go off with W. The fact remains that Cock just isn't a very good play any way you look at it. A writer of some depth, intelligence and real talent might have made something of the premise, but more likely a writer of that stripe wouldn't start with such a stupid , rather offensive, and even somewhat homophobic premise to begin with.    

Oh Those Queens!

I was at my favorite gay bar the other day when this guy I barely know saunters over to me and a friend and says, "Hello ladies, how are you, girls" and some such shit.

I didn't even turn around. I just said "Jesus, how pre-Stonewall can you get."

I don't want to make too big a deal of this, but aren't we past this business of gay men referring to each other as women or giving themselves pet female names or calling each other "Mary." [It's not just older guys who do this. I'll never forget when a thirty-ish editor of a paper I wrote for emailed me about the Gay Pride March and wrote "we need all the Marys we can get." Marys? [I may not be super-butch but a "Mary" I ain't.] Who the hell says "Mary" anymore?

So today I get an email from New York's Gay -- pardon me, LGBT -- center with a list of upcoming attractions and I read this little blurb. Get this:

"Simon Doonan knows that when it comes to style, the gays are the chosen people. A second anthropological truth comes to him midway through a turkey burger with no bun, at an otherwise hetero barbecue: Do the straight people have any idea how many calories are in the guacamole? In this hilarious discourse on and guide to the well-lived life, Doonan goes far beyond the secrets to eating like the French -- he proves that gay men really are French women, from their delight in fashion, to their brilliant choices in accessories and décor, to their awe-inspiring ability to limit calorie intake. A Gucci-wearing Margaret Mead at heart, Doonan offers his own inimitable life experiences and uncanny insights into what makes gay people driven to live every day feeling their best, and proves that they have just as much --and possibly better-- wisdom, advice, and inspiration beyond the same old diet and exercise tips. So put down that bag of Pirate's Booty and pick up this fierce and fabulous book. From slimming jaunts through Capri in the evening to an intrepid "Bear" hunt, Gay Men Don't Get Fat is the ultimate approach to a glamorous lifestyle -- plus, you are guaranteed to laugh away the pounds!" 

Hasn' t this Simon guy ever been to a bear bar [I suppose that's what the "bear" hunt is about, but he couldn't have absorbed much from the hunt]? I know this is all supposed to be just good fun, and Doonan might be a completely funny and lovely fellow, but all of  this stuff -- gay men are really French women!! Yuck! -- is so completely dated, so 1950's, so stereotypical and just plain old hat. I'm sure I'm not the only gay man who couldn't care less about hair dressing or make up or fashion or who has little desire in being a limp-wristed, glamorous "ladies accessory" while dispensing fountains of dopey alleged "wisdom."

Yes, big queens exist, god love 'em, and can be a fun and colorful part of the gay community. But, sheesh, they are not the entire community or even a very large part of it if truth be told. They just stick out a lot more than the average gay guy.

As I've often said gay men have spent decades trying to be accepted as men and this kind of stuff certainly doesn't help. Sure, Doonan has a perfect right to express himself and to camp it up and be a big ol' fabulous "faggot" if he wants to.

But honestly, haven't we come a little further than that in all these years since Stonewall?

Oy Vey! Gay Weddings and Sex and the City 2

The problem I've always had with the admittedly humorous show Sex and the City and the movies thereof was its decidedly stereotypical treatment of gay men. [Also the fact that lead character Carrie is rather shallow and uncultured. Supposed to go to the opera with a guy on one episode, she decides to forgo the Metropolitan and hit McDonald's instead. Huh?]

The two main gay characters on the show were both big queens [not that there's anything wrong in that], one of whom was kind of sweet and likable, and the other of whom was bitchy, grotesque and altogether repulsive. These two went out on one blind date and hated each other almost on sight. So what happens in Sex and the City 2? These two get married in the Big Gay Wedding that occurs early in the film.

Yes, yes, I suppose it's okay to poke fun at gay stereotypes at times, but am I the only person who's getting tired of references to gays and musicals, gays and Liza Minnelli (who officiates at the wedding, which is mildly amusing), and the like. Virtually every gay guy depicted at the wedding is a screaming queen. In one scene at the bar, Carrie's husband "Big" [I never quite understood what she saw in this guy, who is quite a bit older than her in addition to other problems] is hit on by a gay guy who is played by an actor who resorts to such "faggot" mugging that you'd swear you had temporarily switched to The Gay Deceivers or something along those lines.

Then the girls go to an Arab nation on a junket and are each assigned a kind of butler/personal concierge. The gay one is, of course, effeminate and nicknamed "Paula" after Paula Abdul. There are the usual tiresome jokes about gays and hairdressing, decorating, dressing skills, even though most the gay guys I know have little knowledge of any of that shit. It's the old gay-guy-as-straight-woman's-accessory all over again.

What makes it worse is that Sex and the City 2 -- which seems to go on forever -- was written and directed by openly gay Michael Patrick King, who I have to assume must be a Big Ol' Queen or Swishmeister Deluxe with that painfully awful old-fashioned queer sensibility that thinks and/or suggests that All Gay Men are limp-wristed hairdressers. [And a reminder here that even out-of-the-closet gays can be dealing with issues of self-hatred.]

Sometimes if you object to stuff like this you're told by gays and straight alike to get over yourself, because -- after all -- there are gay guys like this out in the real world. This is the justification for a lot of gay humor/fag jokes that can be well-intentioned or mean-spirited. But I mean, the world already knows that some gay men are Big Queens -- can't we just get past it? Surely there's some humor to be mined in the bear community with its chubby chasers and big fat guys strutting around like sex symbols? [Then again -- maybe not. There's a kind of bearish gay couple on a show called Modern Family but they seem to be a couple of Big Queens as well.] Let's see something different and more diverse, please!

The thing is that stuff like Sex and the City -- while it has a large gay following I imagine -- is not directed specifically at gay people. I know that I am tired of the constant linking of gay men with fashion and hair-dressing, transvestism, and "girlie" attributes -- and the snide attitudes this engenders in even gay-friendly straights, many of whom are much more comfortable with obvious gay men and lesbians they can feel superior to [don't get me started!].

Gay men have had a perpetual problem in being taking seriously as men and stuff like The Producers and Sex and the City 2 -- no matter how supposedly good-natured -- don't help at all.

Too Stupid for Words

So this week New York magazine has done a cover story on Neil Patrick Harris, whom they dub the first (openly) gay break out TV star.

So what do they have him doing on the cover?

That's right -- putting on lipstick.

Do you think they would have asked a straight actor to do that?

Yeah, that's what so many gay men do (especially in the bear community) -- put on their shirt, their tie -- and then slap on some bright red lipstick.

I was gratified to see that on the magazine's web site plenty of people were put off, a bit appalled, and even angry about the dumb cover.

Of course, some people just don't get it.

One commenter said that actors wear make up and that it would be funny if a straight actor put on lipstick, so what's wrong with a gay actor doing it etc. etc. etc. Another posted that it was part of a "theatrical" scene not a "gay" scene. Surrrrre. C'mon, did they have to tout this openly gay actor with a shot of him putting on lipstick!? [Besides, Harris is not wearing drag but what appears to be a typical business outfit, so why would he fucking need lipstick?]

The point is that straight men and gay men are perceived differently in our society. Gay men have been struggling for decades to be accepted as men.

Why did Harris even agree to pose for this shot? In the reasonably well put together article by Emily Nussbaum he says, in reference to his boyfriend, "if I say something like 'He didn’t wave flags,’ it sounds like I’m disrespecting people that do, who I think are tremendously important, but there’s more than one way to get into people’s psyches."

That's always been one of the big problems for the gay community. Celebrities always get more attention than activists from the media and general public (and the gay community) but celebrities don't always have a strong gay identity or feel any need to "wave a flag" or think responsibly about the gay image.

Later in the article, which looks at other Out actors and their chances for becoming stars or leading men, Nussbaum writes: "When Grey’s Anatomy’s T. R. Knight came out, it underlined his lack of chemistry with his female co-stars."

I never watched Grey's Anatomy but I always bristle at the suggestion that a gay actor can't do convincing love scenes with women . I mean, Rock Hudson certainly did and he was by no means a particularly great actor. Suggesting that gay men can't be convincing leading men in hetero romantic dramas or comedies is forgetting that it's all about acting. [In any case, Harris has just been cast in a leading "straight" role in a romantic comedy.]

Back to Harris and his lipstick. I don't know if it was a straight person who came up with this idea (or Harris?) or a really dizzy queen who thought it would be cute -- oy vey! -- but combining "gay" with make up is so old hat and tiresome, so indicative of the narrow perception in which the very diverse gay male community is held, that it really makes you think that even forty years after Stonewall it's "three steps forward and two steps backward."

And I think of all the homosexual men who stay in the closet or won't identity as gay because they think (rightly, I'm afraid) that the dominant gay male image in most people's minds is that of a silly "queen" who wears make up and pliably swishes about on the command of some dumbnut photographer.

New York will probably justify the cover by saying that it's edgier and more attention-getting than a more standard shot of Harris would have been. But where is their imagination? Is Harris putting on lipstick really the best they can come up with?

Not inventive. Not imagination. Not clever.

Just stupid, disrespectful -- and debasing.

Final Thoughts on "Chuck and Larry"

NOT TO MENTION STRANGE BEDFELLOWS

A fireman begs his best friend to pretend to be a gay couple with him so that they can reap financial benefits, but have to keep up a deception when an official comes around to investigate the veracity of their claim.

Sounds like last summer's movie I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry, doesn't it?

Actually it's a 2004 Australian film entitled Strange Bedfellows, starring Paul Hogan (Vince) and Michael Caton (Ralph). Yes, it has the exact same premise as Chuck and Larry. (The last I heard, the producers of Strange Bedfellows were suing the producers of Chuck and Larry.) Strange Bedfellows was written by Dean Murphy (who also directed the film) and Stewart Faichney.

Chuck and Larry was accused of being a mass of stereotypes with a message of tolerance tacked on at the end. Actually, that description is more apt of Bedfellows, which is pretty much the movie everyone was afraid Chuck and Larry would be.

Bedfellows takes place in a small town, while C&L takes place in a big city. Bedfellows begins with Hogan, hit with a huge tax bill, reading a story in the paper about a (mythical) law allowing tax benefits to same-sex couples. As in C&L, one of the two guys seems more live-and-let-live about gays than the other.

In Bedfellows, the two men take photos of the town "faggot" (not referred to as such, although "poofter" is used now and then throughout the film) or hairdresser, a very stereotypical gay male, so that they can mimic his mannerisms for the tax official. There's a twist when it turns out that the effeminate man is actually straight, or at least having sex with half the women in town. While this bit could have made the point that there are girlish straight men and masculine gay guys, it's all ruined by the revelation that the hairdresser's mannerisms are all put on. He acts gay because "it's expected of" him and because he can sneak around having sex with half of the wives and daughters in town. Sure, as if any straight guy would want to be known as the town faggot!

Perhaps the worst scene in the movie has the straight if nelly-acting hairdresser teaching our two heroes how to "swish." At least Chuck and Larry doesn't have an equivalent sequence. The hairdresser also says that gay men refer to themselves as "girls" and "she." Indeed in a gay bar scene later on, there are leather men calling themselves "girls." I don't think so. (There may still be some gay men who do this, but they are a dying breed and they are definitely not leather men or bears.)

The gay bar scene presents most of the customers as freaks of one sort or another -- or at least wants the viewers to see them that way for the alleged comedic value. One perfectly "normal" man has a conversation with Hogan at the bar but he's vastly outnumbered by much more "fabulous" characters, all of whom are at least likable and who seem a bit perturbed when Ralph makes some comment about what's stranger than being a "poof." Still thinking he's gay, they pause and then giggle.

Unlike C&L, in Bedfellows there is no scene when an official suggests how wrong and obscene it would be for straight people, liars, to take advantage of laws supposed to benefit a minority group that has had to struggle for its rights for decades.

At the end of the film, we learn that Ralph's daughter is gay. While her girlfriend thinks her father is cool, the daughter herself, besides being closeted, seems full of internalized homophobia. "I don't want you to be that way," she says, because gay people are laughed at behind their backs. I can understand why a gay child might be uncomfortable with a gay parent -- most children don't even want to think of their parents as being sexual, gay or straight -- but her reaction is decidedly negative and even old-fashioned. You imagine that if a gay gene is ever isolated, this gal would want any kids she might have to be "straightened" out. Of course, she's only onscreen for five minutes so we learn very little about her. She's introduced to set up the ending, and her complaining about "being laughed at" is the springboard for her father's speech. But it makes her seem a very regressive character.

After learning his daughter is gay -- and not before -- Ralph gives the well-intentioned "tolerance" speech at the end of the film. He makes the point that everyone has known him and Vince for many years and what they do in the privacy of their homes shouldn't make any difference. I won't go into details, but it all comes down to the fact that Ralph and Vince really love each other -- aww-- albeit not in the romantic or sexual sense. The tax official, Russell (Pete Postlethwaite), who may or may not be gay, sort of forgives them and let's them off the hook because he hasn't seen "a stronger bond or a greater love between two men in many a year." So let's see, two straight guys can love each other more than two gay men who are in love with each other?

Strange Bedfellows may mean well -- or at least it tries to have some pro-gay sentiments to offset all the stereotypical crap -- but it just doesn't get it. The film is well-acted by all, has some mildly amusing moments, but it's too stupid and even offensive to make a positive impression.

So now we come to I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry, which -- believe it or not -- is an improvement. Very few gay people that I know have actually sat through the movie. I think nobody actually wanted to go to a theater, plunk down twelve dollars, and possibly have to sit through the picture with a bunch of homophobic teens making crass remarks all the while.

Curiously, C&L, while it'll never be one of my favorite films, and there were aspects of it that I really disliked, was not nearly as bad as I had feared. DISCLAIMER: Remember that I didn't watch this in a theater with a straight audience, but at home with a gay friend, which probably affected my perception of the film to a certain degree. Had I seen it with a straight -- especially a straight homophobic audience -- laughing at or commenting on the stereotypes, I would have found it a much worse experience than watching my borrowed library copy at home.

First of all, contrary to popular belief GLAAD did not "endorse" Chuck and Larry. You can find my New York Blade story and interview with GLAAD's president here, which explains what really happened and how GLAAD tried to improve the film and may have helped to do so.

Okay, Adam Sandler's not a horrible-looking guy, but it's pretty comical (in the wrong sense) that he would wind up with half a dozen gorgeous twenty-something babes in his bedroom at the same time, as he does early in the movie. The real Adam Sandler, a billionaire movie star, probably has no problem getting babes, but an average-looking firefighter on the cusp of middle-age? But that's just typical Adam Sandler, aging-stud stuff that all geeky movie comics from Bob Hope to Jim Carrey indulge in. And especially in a movie with a sort of gay theme, Sandler probably felt he had to establish the character's heterosexuality in an as over-the-top way as possible. That is also the reason for a really stupid scene in which the lady social worker who helps them (Jessica Biel) let's Chuck (Sandler) touch her naked boobs so she can prove to him that they're real. Sure -- as if a professional woman would allow a male -- or any -- client to do such a thing!

On the positive side, the film makes fun of homophobes, and while there's a silly sequence when Chuck and Larry try to find some "gay garbage" to fool the domestic partnership inspector, they never swish around and act stereotypically gay as the guys do in Strange Bedfellows. Chuck makes a speech about how ugly and hurtful the word "faggot" is, comparing it to someone calling him "kike." I liked the gay mailman, and I especially liked the way the film winds up with a gay wedding instead of a straight one.

On the negative side, I could have done without the way Larry's supposedly gay young son Eric was handled. He hits all the stereotype buttons and literally screams when he looks at a nude female centerfold. Eric and his father get into a fight with another man and his kid, not because of the latter pair's homophobia but because they say Eric is gay (but the film is supposed to be saying that it's okay to be gay). After he comes out of the closet, butch firefighter Duncan (Ving Rhames) turns kind of "queeny" -- he sings "I'm Every Woman" in the shower -- the tiresome old notion that masculine gay men just "butch it up" but are big "fairies" inside. Then there's the whole business about whether it's Chuck or Larry who's "the woman" in the relationship, and the social worker taking Chuck out for a "girls' day," which she would hardly say to a masculine gay guy like Chuck. And I don't believe for one second that the gay community of New York would come to see Chuck and Larry as some kind of gay heroes or icons, especially after they've been exposed as straight. Sandler socks one of the homophobes outside of the gay bar, but I would have liked it better if an actual gay character had thrown the punch. (I have to admit that the fireman's calender that ends the film is kind of funny.)

Of course, some of the good points that are made about gays are kind of blunted or made pointless because Chuck and Larry aren't really gay (if only the film had had the courage to have one of them sincerely come out of the closet at the end of the picture.)

There are people who think Chuck and Larry is a lot tougher on Asians (part Filipino Rob Schneider's minister, who says "loom" for "room") and very obese people (the funny-gross opening with the guys rescuing an enormous home bound man from a burning building) than it is on gays.

Would I have gotten my old Gay Activist Alliance buddies to picket this film the way we did Cruising, A Different Story and Windows? -- Maybe not. While I can understand the negative gay reaction to the film, I can't quite understand why even straight reviewers were so brutal.

Was it because they objected to the stereotyping -- or, privately, to the message of tolerance and gay marriage equality at the end? Considering this was an Adam Sandler film geared toward a young, unsophisticated audience, it could have been much, much worse.

I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry was written by Barry Fanaro, Alexander Payne, and Jim Taylor. The director was Dennis Dugan, who had a role in the execrable "gay" movie Norman ... Is That You? in 1976.

Dizzy Queens

Okay, it's a term you don't hear much anymore. "Dizzy Queens."

Although I'm a bear, I get along better with femmes than some bears do because I'm more of an "art and culture" kind of guy -- I'm an author, after all -- than a camping and backpacking type. (Let me state at the outset that there are plenty of bears who enjoy culture and no doubt there are femmes who like to go camping -- uh -- let me rephrase that... There are femmes who enjoy outdoor activities. There are also bears who are femmes and so on. Confusing, isn't it?)

To get back to my point, I also get along better with femmes than some of my bear buddies because I'm a nice guy who cares about all of his gay brothers (and my lesbian sisters). I can even get along with dizzy queens. But I have to confess on the (thankfully) rare occasions I encounter one they often drive me nuts. (There are plenty of "dizzy" men and women in the heterosexual community, of course. But as this is a gay blog, we'll stick to our own beloved variety of dizzy person. )

So, what exactly is a dizzy queen (also known as a "superficial queen")?

First, most femmes are not dizzy queens. Intelligence, bravery, courage, toughness, are qualities you can find in the more stereotypical gay men as well as in the less stereotypical butch numbers. Second, there are dizzy butch numbers in the world (or rather "dizzy queens" can be butch.) And dizzy queens don't necessarily lack some of the finer human qualities.

Dizzy queens can be perfectly nice guys, but they're ... well, they're just not too bright. I'm not saying every guy who walks around in weird outfits trying to get attention and screaming about how "fabulous" he is is dizzy (or that all dizzy queens are "fabulous" or weird dressers but that's a discussion for another day) , but -- he's probably not the brightest bulb in the chandelier. Dizzy queens tend to have a very old-fashioned sensibility, and to think of gay people in terms more stereotypical than the average straight person. If it's outside their experience they can't imagine it. They think every gay person is just like them because they haven't the smarts to think differently. They can't think of anything in depth because they're not that deep. They walk around in a dither of campiness and superficiality, sometimes sweet, sometimes bitchy, often both, always with their brains in a fog of simple, simpleminded dumbness.

Dizzy queens (or dizzy butch numbers) are rarely political animals -- I mean, gay rights -- but when they are their fuzzy-headedness and lack of depth and judgment leads them to have truly startling opinions. If someone in a bar, butch or femme, ever says about a third party "He's not gay, I met his girlfriend" or "He's not gay, he has a wife" then the chances are good that they're pretty, well, dizzy. (In certain circles people feel that if you prefer Elton John's Aida to Verdi's, then that is not only dizzy but inexplicably dizzy.)

Now I don't want to be mean, but the problem with dizzy queens is that they can be surprisingly influential. Some of them have popular platforms or work behind the scenes on shows and the like that test the patience of the average out, proud gay person. Surely it was a dizzy queen who came up with Queer Eye or Gay, Straight or Taken. You might think these characters only have influence over other dizzy queens, but as they're seen as representatives of the gay community by certain straights -- well, if you wonder where straight people get some of their odd ideas about gays, look no farther than the nearest dizzy queen. [And dare I say it -- isn't it true that at least 25% of our gay bloggers are dizzy queens? I'm sorry, but take a look at what's out there and you'll see what I mean! Dizzy Queens may only account for a tiny percentage of gay men, but on the Internet they are ubiquitous! And not just the more obvious bloggers who call themselves "Pink Pearl" or "Honeystuff" or something like that, but even posters on the more "political" blogs, although DQs tend to dominate more in the pop culture/celebrity-oriented sites.]

Possibly the dizziest dizzy queen that I have seen within recent memory is "Ross the Intern," who is Jay Leno's "house faggot" -- a gay version of Stephin Fetchit -- on The Tonight Show. Ross seems oblivious to all the fag jokes that Leno tells on the show. Someone makes a homophobic remark or gesture and he only giggles. I'm not even being funny here -- this is a man who is completely without a brain. Leno keeps him around because he helps reinforce every possible stereotype about gay men. Some people think he's sweet. So is saccharine. I find him completely and totally repulsive on virtually every level.

Some dizzy queens are dizzy only on occasion. There is a certain gay advice columnist and blogger -- I think his name was Something Savage [get real!] but don't quote me or him -- whose militant opinions I often agreed with. But one day he got an email from a guy who said he was messy, had long-hair and a beard, and despaired of ever getting any of the really "great guys" to date or for a lover. The columnist -- get this! -- told him he had to clean up his act, straighten out his apartment, shave, cut his hair -- or else he'd be forever stuck with the "dregs" of gay society.

Think for a minute (I hope you won't have to.) What's wrong with this advice?

Here's what's wrong in case it hasn't occurred to you, for shame: Hasn't the columnist ever heard of bears for pete's sake? I would have told this guy to keep his beard, keep his long hair, leave his apartment as messy as he wants it to be -- and get to the nearest fuckin' bear bar where (hopefully) few supercilious, precious, overly fastidious dizzy queens ever go. I mean, I read the columnist's answer in utter disbelief. Bears were outside his field of experience, so of course they didn't exist. He was completely unable to give some good advice to this poor, lonely guy who would have found a lot more acceptance in the bear community than at Bingo night at the nearest gay bar full of hairless twenty-something "twinks" and "girls" talking about the latest episode of Desperate Housewives (which I have watched myself, thank you very much, but I'll deny it if I want to)!

Gay life might be a little duller without our gay "fabs" but if we could only somehow arrange brain transplants for our dizzy little queens how much more productive they might be.

I've no doubt that there are dizzy lesbians, but I have no idea what they're called, and won't even hazard a guess.

Biology and Bullshit

I read an article entitled The Science of Gaydar by David France which appeared in New York magazine. According to certain (mostly but not entirely gay researchers) gay men have certain biological distinctions from straight men (ditto for lesbians and straight women), everything from counterclockwise hair whorls to more defined ridges in the thumbs and pinkies of their left hands, differences in their brains, index fingers that are longer than their ring fingers (in straight guys it’s supposedly just the opposite), and even – and this is interesting – bigger penises. According to the article, yes it’s true that gay people are more likely to be left-handed. (For years "left-handed" was a code for homosexual, but that was primarily because left-handed people, like gays, were in the minority.)

What to make of this? Well, on one hand responsible and intelligent researchers have every right to investigate the origins of homosexuality and why (some) gay people definitely appear to be "gay" (supposedly creating "gaydar"). On the other hand, responsible and intelligent gays and gay activists have every right to be a little nervous – and even skeptical – about this research and to what ends it will ultimately be applied. If proof is ever supplied for the existence of a gay gene will parents have the ability to turn their child straight before he or she is even born? Will a homophobic society eradicate gays and the gay lifestyle for good?

I’m bothered by some of the researchers both straight and gay. France quotes one guy who talks about gene codes determining who’s gay or straight. "Pick the wrong code [italics mine]," he says, "and you’re gay." France deems this a "slip of the tongue." Perhaps the guy was referring to the fact that homosexuality is often considered wrong by society, but in any case his remark is troubling – and telling. Even worse is another straight researcher who has no moral problem with parents being able to eventually opt for a straight child over a gay one (as France puts it, it’s chilling to think of gayness being thought of as something along the lines of sickle cell anemia). But how many parents want a gay child? Given the still existing stigma against homosexuality will even gay-friendly – or gay – parents think it’s okay if their kid is gay? The thought of what may lie in the future is scary.

But some of the gay researchers give me the willies as well. Some of the stuff they say and come up with from their "studies" seems to support a lot of stereotypical blather that perhaps should have been done away with a long time ago (at least no one has yet suggested that gay men can’t whistle, a theory that was widely disseminated in the 1950's). I swear it makes me wonder – and I know this will sound terrible – if some of these guys are stereotypical gay men hoping to prove that yes, most gay men are just "big queens" like they are. If that’s the case – and be assured that I think there’s nothing wrong in being a "big queen" – so be it, but I know and have seen that the gay community is much more diverse than that. Understandably, gay men who most conform to a stereotype tend to see other gay men in stereotypical terms (there are exceptions however). Sometimes put down even by other gay men, femmes tend to believe that most gay men are femmes (safety in numbers) while non- stereotypical gay men tend to think just the opposite. Then again, femmes rarely go to bear or leather bars, and very butch guys avoid the bars frequented by femmes.

[Of course this begs the question that France barely touches upon. How wide a cross-section of the gay community was studied by these researchers looking at hair whirls, fingerprint ridges and dicks? Only Femmes? Femmes and Bears? Guys who fit certain stereotypes already, or non-stereotypical gay men (and women)? If you’re going to do a study of this nature, doesn’t it pay to be as thorough as possible?]

What do I think? I think that most gay men, like most straight men, are neither effeminate nor hyper-masculine but fall somewhere in between. Most are just "average joes" (although once you get to know them they may not be "average" anything). There are effeminate and very naturally butch gay men, of course, on either end of the spectrum. Ditto for lesbians. And since all of us -- "average" or "fabulous" -- are hated by the queer-bashers out there, we all should do our best to get along.

France covers a lot of territory in his article, which also goes into theories as to why gay people exist in the first place. One guy even sort of suggests that the reason for homosexuality is that the gay son can, well, stay home and take care of Mom (what -- straight guys never look after their elderly mothers and fathers?) Yes, he implies, maybe gay guys are born to be —get this! -- care givers! Gee, most of the gay guys I know are out cruising, spending time with their lovers, or both, out living life, not sitting home looking after their parents, although that job eventually falls to many children regardless of their sex or sexual orientation.

France also quotes a straight researcher who questions whether women truly have a sexual orientation; he finds their sexuality more fluid but scoffs at the notion of male bisexuality. (Has it always been true that there are more female bi’s than male, or is that a false perception?) This guy reminds me of a certain sadly misogynous gay activist who rants on his blog that lesbians don’t even exist but suffer from gender-identity confusion, failing to note that gay men were once accused of the very same thing. I know many out and proud lesbians who would tell this guy a thing or two. Both of these guys, in fact.

It’s this kind of silliness that makes me wonder about the quality of the research being done here. These people are not exactly looking for a new drug or a cure for AIDS so their work is not considered high priority and doesn’t get much funding. It’s a few people and their students doing all the work. The mind boggles at the thought of academics measuring penis size and looking at the backs of people’s heads to see in which direction their hair whorls. And since people rarely lie about being gay but lie about being straight all the time, how do they know who’s telling the truth when they do their comparison tests of straight versus gay? I suppose if a man says he’s straight we’ll now know he’s lying if his hair whorl goes counterclockwise and his penis is too big?

Besides, all of this stuff is certainly open to interpretation. France wisely offers alternative reasons for some of the conclusions the researchers have come to. While some could accuse him of being understandably biased, I think he’s trying to look at things from different perspectives.

Let the researchers do their thing. But let them get rid of their pre-conceived notions before they start, because I believe they are influenced by these notions before they examine their first gay brain, thumb or penis. (Considering the kinds of stuff they’re coming up with – "left-handed" indeed – no one can accuse them of political correctness, which is certainly odd in today’s climate.) Needless to say, the straight researchers in this field also need to get past their pre-conceptions, or their studies may be pointless.

But let’s get to the really important issue. Can it possibly be true that gay men have penises that are thicker and longer?

Well, I can only speak for myself – actually I can speak for a lot of people come to think of it – and the answer is yes.

That Old-Fashioned Gay Sensibility

Isn't there a place where we can gather up all the closet cases, self-hating homos, and gay men and lesbians with old-fashioned sensibilities – maybe an island somewhere – and remove them from the gay community where they persist in perpetuating stereotypes and make the on-going battle for gay rights more difficult? I think one of the first to go to this island should be playwright Terrence McNally, who I have always thought was highly over-rated, more an example of someone who knows how to play the game than someone with any special brand of talent. A case in point is his play Love! Valour! Compassion! [full disclosure, I did not see this on the stage, but did see the film, which was also written by McNally]. Someone with a more modern sensibility might have made something memorable out of this soggy, slow mess about eight gay friends who meet periodically at a country house where they whine and bitch. Sure, there have plenty of plays and movies about heteros who whine and bitch, too, but I was still hoping for something that was a lot more advanced than say, The Boys in the Band, which this wasn't. While the characters in the play are recognizable types in the gay community, they are also stereotypes, and none of them are particularly likable. We have the grand dame precious British queen; the sort-of nelly who is himself prejudiced toward other minorities; the campy, flagrant movie musical queen [played with on again off again nelliness by Jason Alexander, the poor man's presumably straight Nathan Lane, who played this part on Broadway]; the kind-of swishy but sensual dancer/choreographer; the Puerto Rican semi-hustler [whose character is very under-delineated]; and so on. Certainly a playwright should be allowed to present characters, gay characters included, with flaws – nobody wants sanitized, dishonest portrayals – but while gay men like this may exist, there are millions of gay men who are nothing like them. Hasn't McNally ever been in a bear bar, for Pete's sake? At one point McNally even has most of the men dress up in tutus and prance around as ballet dancers which is much more idiotic and cliched than funny [what the hell was he thinking?]. McNally also perpetrated the equally moronic The Ritz, among others. Nothing I have ever seen by him compares to the really excellent gay play The Sum of Us by David Stevens.

Maybe on that island McNally can practice his true calling: writing sitcoms and doing Judy Garland impersonations.