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The Portland International Film Festival didn’t seem to have any explicitly gay movies but themes of gender and power abound, certainly so in Sunday’s premiere screening of the French A Comedy of Power. A so called commingling of comedy and thriller A Comedy of Power emerges more like a look into the relationships between husband and wife, female friends and coworkers, as one woman intently pursues the corrupt political establishment. Whereas the American Law and Order or the British Touching Evil might take this story and make it a crime drama rife with the sounds of sirens and smashing gavels, the French intertwine the main character, Judge Jeanne Charmant-Killman’s (Isabelle Huppert), desire to clean up the government with the story of her tenuous relationship with a husband feeling overshadowed, and her intimate bond with a female peer. It accomplishes all this with a distinct lack of intrusive soundtrack or glorious camera work. It’s real. It’d raw. It’s psychological. It’s French.
 In such a film uncertainty and fluctuation are key. It opens with the nervous allergic itch-scratching of a soon to be imprisoned CEO who meets our extremely shrewd and powerful Judge very soon after. The first interrogation we see, coupled with her interaction with her husband, seem to portray Jeanne as the aggressive woman-monster archetype (“the Piranha”) we have become so familiar with. Her husband’s coworkers have even taken to calling him Mr. Charmant-Killman. And while I did catch the subtle intrusion of pink rubber gloves as Jeanne washes the dishes this insert did little to assure me that the film saw her power as a positive aspect of her character rather than as an infringement on her femininity. But the film is shrewder than I. This is merely a small interruption of the quite serious narrative with that of comedy. In fact, it might be the only truly amusing aspect of the film. And while the Power may paint Jeanne’s workaholic nature as troublesome to anyone wishing to lead a full and happy life, it also sees this same shortfall as saintly altruism. And while it is also easy to feel sorry for her neglected husband, who seems to truly love her, the film switches your sympathies quickly back to Jeanne. She is extremely intelligent and not uncaring. She’s not to be taken in, even by those who have appeared to be on her side in the past. And when yet another corrupt high-ranking official brings another woman into her department as her equal expecting that, because they are women, they will bring each other down in a rain of hair and nails, both recognize this and rise above their desire to do exactly that.
The happy ending that the title implies is never fully satisfied, and yet I was quite surprised to hear my coworker exclaim at the end, “Well that was depressing.” Ambiguity and a sort of longing ennui are emotions the French excel at portraying, and you will feel none of the same satisfaction or disappointment that you would after a Law and Order verdict. Nevertheless, feelings of sympathy and pride will abound. A comedy it’s not, but perhaps that is precisely the funniest part.
A Comedy of Power plays at the fest this Sunday the 18th at 7:30 at Whitsell Auditorium and Tuesday the 20th at Broadway. A complete schedule can be found on the NW Film Center website. […]
 Saturday I found myself engulfed in High School Cheerleaders before 9 in the morning. Now before your dirty minds make an unfortunate leap, my attendance was required at the Oregon State Cheerleading Championships because my partner’s niece had qualified for the contest. I like to leave my pre-conceived notions at the door, so I tried not to label it as a Bring it on stereotype. I shouldn’t have bothered. It was nearly identical.
But before I delve further into the non-relevant rest of this post I want to tell you what about this was gay. I’m certainly not trying to employ the derogatory and generic epithet but rather, cheerleading, and the championships in particular, really do draw from gay culture. First and foremost, the music was like a schizophrenic gay rave. No song clip lasted longer than the 10 seconds a methhead could pay attention (and they were the most nasty dirty sex songs of the past 30 years mind you) and they were pasted sloppily over intensely clubby house beats. Of course the glitter and pompoms have been shared elements of cheerleading and gay culture throughout the 20th century but the wigs and hair extensions were new to me. Of course cheerleaders all must have ponytails, but I shouldn’t have assumed they were all naturally long haired. Just like drag queens, at the end of the day they take off their false eyelashes and bouncy curls as well. Then there are the male cheerleaders. I don’t think that they’re all gay. To reference Bring it on (yet again) it does, however, seem about 50/50…like ballet dancers, not like ice skaters (that’s gotta be way closer to 90%). I’m just saying, I saw a couple adorable little baby boys that certainly seemed a little light in their white sneakers.
Now on to other, non gay related, but still rather amusing highlights of the show. I’m quite sorry to have missed the afternoon’s puking Gresham cheerleader but the truly dirty songs were mortifying enough. At one point I was certain that a school started their routine with the song from American Beauty. That’s right, the one where a very grown-up and lecherous Kevin Spacey envisions the lustful head cheerleader opening her blouse and revealing red roses. I shudder. Because that’s what truly made these songs inappropriate. Some were so old that the teens probably didn’t even recognize them, but that didn’t mean they weren’t naughty. Besides, what does shaking me all night long have to do with football?
I realize that since I attended mostly the smaller schools that they are also likely not to be near a city, which may account for this. Nevertheless, I was surprised that cheerleaders still looked the same as in my day…my elementary and middle school days that is. I don’t mean the timeless qualities of a tight sweater and a short skirt, but hair aerosoled heavenward in that glorious mallrat tower that was the early 90s. I had to wonder, at the end of the day, why this parade of fantasy is seen as “cool” when something like Dungeons and Dragons is “geeky.” […]
The topic of potentially offensive Superbowl commercials came to my attention as soon as the light faded from my neighbors 50 million inch TV I could watch through my window…but I really didn’t think much of it.
 But the chatter among news sources, gay bloggers etc continued. A friend brought this particular article to my attention and while I really only skimmed it, it did stop and make me think. At first I seemed to agree with the sentiments “…the ad [could be seen as] a parody of homophobic attitudes…” or “It’s basically the behavior of boys in a high school lockerroom…” I do think it’s important to choose your battles and expend energy wisely. But then, as the article continued, I realized something important. I shouldn’t be eating Snickers anyway.
Wait, more important than that.
These aren’t hairless tween boys in a locker room fidgeting because they don’t know how to act like an adult. These are huge corporations, franchises, institutions with very big boys (and girls) at the helm. I have been conditioned to accept that homophobia is acceptable in traditionally straight male spaces like sports television. I have come not to expect much from professional sports management because no one has forced them to be accountable. The article goes on to point out that companies that are rich enough to run ads during the Superbowl, as well as the NFL itself spend millions on marketing research and are generally very very careful with how they are portrayed in the media, who gets access and their public image as a whole. So why don’t they care as much about their gay demographic? A representative finally got back to AfterElton.com with the retort that “…humor is subjective.” I’m not hugely PC myself (among friends there have been exchanges rivaling Sarah Silverman) but there is no excuse not to know that the ad your company is producing is offensive, and that the Superbowl is not the place for humor as instigating as something that might appear on Comedy Central after 11 pm.
[…]
 In a town where queer nights rarely see their first birthday, Wednesday night’s Gaycation’s 1st year bash is a welcome change. Holocene (1001 SE Morrison) ushers the party into toddler-dom this Wednesday the 7th at 9p and, despite this being an anniversary rager, the price is still a wonderfully simple zero bucks. As usual DJ Snowtiger and Mr. Charming will be your gracious hosts. […]
Not marriage. Not civil unions. But perhaps an anti-discrimination bill…Tiny, tiny baby steps…at least its forward. […]
Oh my but it has been awhile since I’ve blogged hasn’t it? I offer no apologies. I lead a full and complicated life, including a work schedule that has been quite overwhelming lately, snow storms, PCC classes and a last minute trip to San Francisco over the MLK holiday. And I haven’t been to that bastion of gay excess for many years…since 2000 perhaps. I had a great time, returning with an extra suitcase full of brightly colored, fruity boxer briefs. (Although we can get ’em here now too…) I have to say, though, that it was something of a disappointment. Everything queer I expected to find there was as readily available here, and the queer culture seems even more fleshed out at home than this supposed gay Mecca. (Ok, so I was totally enamored of H&M. I’ve missed them so since I left the east coast and it’s high time we got our own store here).
Friday night’s excursion to the iconic lesbian bar The Lexington was nice (I dug the dollar margaritas) but non-eventful. I can’t decide if California’s non-bar-smoking laws are good or bad but certainly you’d want folks at the Lex to head outdoor because the place in tiny. It’s always been shocking to me that San Fran only had one dedicated lezzie bar but it’s about one sixth the size of Portland’s own lesbian watering hole. Saturday night we couldn’t really find much to do despite searching through both alternative newsweeklies and I was especially disappointed after I found out about a drag burlesque happening right at home that very night. That’s what I had hoped to find in Cali…(How did that go by the way? Anyone know?)
Our Castro shopping trip was enjoyable but this ‘hood seems the smallest and least interesting of the many colorful Bay area escapes. Certainly, it has less appeal now than my wide-eyed 17, or even 20 year old self thought. It does light up in amazing ways during that infamous June weekend. Even that’s still got to be exciting to my jaded 25 year old mind, but on a January weekend it’s little more than an upper middle class tourist trap.
I did quite enjoy Fisherman’s Wharf, an even more notorious tourist trap, because I expected it and it was a nice stroll after the jolting cable car ride up the hills. Chinatown was also fun, despite climbing a hill that had my girlfriend yelling that she was going to die halfway up. (It’s a shame to see our own Chinatown fading away as the Pearl creeps in a rents go up.) We ate Dim Sum at one of the most "adventurous" spots though when Jane picked up the chicken’s feet by accident I have to admit I was not quite adventurous enough to put them anywhere near my mouth. What is there to eat? There doesn’t appear to be any meat on them to me…
Another pleasant surprise was Japantown, which I had never been to. MLK Monday meant everything was closed, which dashed my Mission area museum and exploration plans so we wandered west. We spent forever in the photobooth trying to figure out how to work the machine’s adorable graphics program that was only in Japanese.
But I digress. San Francisco is worth visiting, but as a queer destination, it only made me appreciate home.
[…]
None of my illustrious commentary today just a couple of club night announcements. The posters should say it all…(And apparently the Queer Fetish night is the last at the Eagle. Does this have to do with the scandal?)
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There was much shouting at the television last night as a gaggle of us gathered around the anticipated premiere. Through the chatter and the 2 glasses of wine, however, I was able to actually catch some of the show so here are the highlights and lowlights of Season 4 Episode 1.
The most noticeable aspect, however, wasn’t part of the plot at all but the rampant product placement and website plugging. I’ve seen it plenty before. Macintosh computers are always used in the show and indeed seem to be a large part of any gay show. (The gays love the Macs. That’s why I find it particularly ironic and frustrating that none of Logo’s online multimedia content will play on a Mac. Go ahead and try Mac fans. Do you know your audience MTV CEOs?) But they must have made a deal with MySpace because they wouldn’t shut up about it. They also seem to be launching their own social networking site, Our Chart, which was not up as of last night, but sneaky little devils must have updated it and launched this morning (Hey where’s my email notification?). The show made it seem like it was just the same kind of hookup web that the Alice character created, only for real people. Thankfully, it seems a much more full-bodied site including news, blogs etc. But that web of connections aspect is still there, and boy does that sound like a bad idea.  There is no way I would lay out my sexual jaunts for the world to see. Can you imagine, not just the teasing, but the amount of drama that would ensue when rumors become truth, or more likely, even bigger rumors? I recommend you stay far far away…But onto the meat of the show…
The cliffhanger from last season of Bette kidnapping her daughter was so easily wrapped up I forgot it was even a plot element. Tina’s wailing about her baby was only cumbersome and totally boring. I care even less about her now as a whiny straight white blonde than she when she was a whiny lesbian blonde. The only saving grace here was the lawyer’s cheeky reaction to the situation. I love the hysterical Jane Lynch. She never ceases to be hilarious.
The other biggie that was carried over from last season is Shane’s fall from grace. And boy has she fallen. As she emerged from the wreckage of the vehicle she commandeered, walking with a slow staccato gait and holding her crooked, bloody arm, my friend remarked that she looked like a zombie and expected the good guys to come and blow her head off with a shotgun at any moment. Carmen is officially off the show as well and I am disappointed once again with taking yet another of the best characters off the show. They did reintroduce Marina to the mix, which was surprising and gives me hope for bringing back characters they just dumped. Unfortunately, there’s still no hope for Dana…
 As much as I appreciate the introduction of a trans character last season Max was really starting to get on my nerves. And yet, I could never really save any sympathy for Jenny because she was just as easy to despise. The L Word seemed egalitarian only in that I could never take sides with anyone on the show because I hated them all. And yet, this episode inserted a small but important scene. After serving himself up some trouble for trying to pass and live as a straight man, Max goes to a transman support group. They marvel at his ability to keep any friends with the amount of testosterone he’d been taking and explained all the emotional turmoil that comes with not only fundamentally changing your life but using a brain-altering chemical as part of that process. It finally made Max’s transition have a little humanity.
But the most bizarre part of the show was Kit’s trip to the pseudo-abortion clinic. I could understand how a young girl could be fooled into thinking a Christian “pregnancy advise center” might be a Planned Parenthood but how 45 year old Kit was makes little sense. Besides, I was really looking forward to her manny (man-nanny) being a daddy. Oh well, always disappointments with this show. I forgive it for its only because it provides prurient chest shots and for its ability to shock if not surprise. It did end with a rather funny plot twist wherein Shane might just be a foster daddy. That should wake her up from zombiedom real fast.
[…]
It’s that time of year again where we all gather to watch skinny, drama filled lesbians in power suits strut like peacocks through Los Angeles. That’s right, our favorite Lifetime drama for lesbos begins again for the fourth time this Sunday the 7th on Showtime.  (For another interesting show that’s on the real Lifetime, check out out Byron’s WW column this week. It a cruel idea and normally I hate reality TV but I have a feeling this one might suck me in) And we each will have our favorite spots to watch including numerous house parties and the infamous E-Room, but premiere night also sees and extra special place to hang out. HRC Portland is hosting a fundraiser at Aura (1022 W Burnside) from 6-10:30. I’m not normally a huge fan of either the gargantuan and normative HRC, nor the Pearlesque and pricey Aura who complains about Zoobombers trashing the hood (hey, the south side of Burnside is not the Pearl yet…) but it can’t hurt to help out a gay organization while you’re watching you’re trashy TV ang getting some nosh. Besides, word on the street is it will fill up fast, which means you better RSVP soon (by pm tomorrow) but it also means you singles might have even more incentive. […]
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