I felt very much out of the lezzie-loop yesterday when I found out that Sarah Waters' second novel, Affinity, has been made into a movie and was the opening night film at Frameline this summer.
Say what you will about the shock-schlock, soft-core oeuvre of filmmaker Russ Meyer, the man was definitely ahead of his time when it came to showcasing the hips-lips-tits-power! aesthetic that would eventually become inextricably linked to third-wave feminism. His best-known work, 1966's sinsister thrillride Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!, has come to beregarded over the years as something of a prefeminist classic, but even those who cock a skeptical eyebrow at the equation of big-breasted go-go dancers + homicidal karate chops = empowerment can probably appreciate the film's gonzo exuberance, as well as its arresting black-and-white cinematography.
...for Estelle Getty — also known as the Golden Girls' Sophia Petrillo — who died today at age 84. Though her shoes were undoubtedly tiny, has any sitcom actress really filled them since? That's a rhetorical question, by the way, since each and every one of those smartypantssuited retirees kicked ass, but today's about Sophia. So share your favorite "Picture It: Sicily, 1912..." moments in the comments section, why don'tcha?
Okay, so maybe it is the heat of the office making me unusually cranky on this Friday afternoon but I just have to write and ask, what is the deal with the Oprah phenomena, and particularly the magazine?
Now I know these may not be popluar thoughts to have these days, but I've got two questions (among many) that have been burning a hole on my mind that makes this whole love fest just not add up for me.