Boom-Bastic: Elizabeth Taylor

Published December 14, 2024 by biggayhorrorfan

Radically individualistic, Hollywood goddess Elizabeth Taylor consistently chose latter day celluloid projects that probably boggled the minds of those who had grown accustomed to her charms via such mainstream heart warmers as National Velvet and Father of the Bride.

Portraying characters drawn to acting out twisted facsimiles of familial relations or those haunted by specters of overwhelming death, Taylor’s roles in her thirties and forties often contained hysterical and delusional elements – traits commonly found in many of our most popular horror heroines.

Disney villainesses, the hysterically hobbled, unseen diva in Argento’s Opera and the matriarchal forces in such modern fright offerings as You’re Next & Ready or Not, for instance, definitely find themselves embedded in the emotional lifelines of Flora Goforth, her character in 1968’s incredibly wacked out Boom! A mean-spirited mansion dweller, Goforth is one of Tennessee Williams’ most indulgent characters. Cruel to all around her, she seems to both long for the escape of the grave while desperately and cravenly clinging to her seemingly very miserable mortality.

Enter Richard Burton as the enigmatic Christopher Flanders. Viewers soon realize, after some lustful thespian volleying, back and forth, of very cryptic dialogue that Flanders, who has descended upon Goforth’s remote paradise, is the Angel of Death and that Goforth’s time on earth is going to be very limited. After Noel Coward’s arch appearance as (of all things) The Witch of Capri, the dialogue between Taylor and Burton gets even more inscrutable.

This delirious denseness, even though Williams, perhaps in as doth protest too much moment, listed this as his favorite filmed adaptation of his work, resulted in a critical and financial failure upon release. Still peach ripe and filmed through a lusty lens, Taylor’s glitter edged work here does lend itself to camp, though. This has allowed uber-fans like John Waters to sing the project’s many awkward praises as the decades have passed.

Interestingly, the piece is also very reminiscent, in an orgiastic, oversaturated manner, of Nothing in the Dark, the 1962 The Twilight Zone episode in which a very young, almost achingly lovely Robert Redford plays the male equivalent of the grim reaper.

That Redford, in this author’s opinion, surely bests Burton as a figurehead of muddy mortality, does nothing to take away from Taylor’s power in Boom! The prototypical movie star, she also provides enough essence to feed the minds of genre critics for decades to come.

Until the next time, SWEET love and pink GRUE, Big Gay Horror Fan!

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Shark Bait Retro Village: Death Cruise (1974)

Published April 16, 2024 by biggayhorrorfan

Free, as we all know, doesn’t necessarily mean good. Thankfully, the characters in 1974’s Death Cruise are well clothed and coiffed – this is an Aaron Spelling production, after all – when a seemingly carefree gift begins to interfere with their mortality.

Obviously inspired by Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None, this exercise in glossy horror finds 3 embattled couples fighting for their lives on an ocean liner. The recipients of a complimentary vacation, the sextet is all seemingly linked via a random series of previous trips and work circumstances. During fragrant dinners and alcohol-fueled poolside chats, no one can quite figure out the direction connection, though – a sure hindrance when they begin to be thrown overboard, pushed down rickety stairs and shot at.

Entertainingly. Jack B. Sowards’ script encourages soap operatic airs to swirl around these characters. Much to middle-aged David’s (Tom Bosley) regret, the dissatisfied Elizabeth (Celeste Holm) can’t let go of her grown children. The sarcastic Sylvia (Polly Bergen), meanwhile, is hard pressed to forgive her spouse Jerry’s (Richard Long) frequent, very public philandering. Young bride Mary Frances (Kate Jackson), lastly, would just like a child from the carefree, self-indulgent James (Edward Albert). Unsurprisingly, as Sowards’ diabolical plot twists unfurl, these issues take a backseat to staying alive.

Nicely, brisk direction by Ralph Senensky compliments the mysterious set-up here and he, wisely, gets out of the way of his highly professional cast, letting them do what they do best. To that end, Holm commits to a magnificently drunken takedown of Bosley’s David, a man who spent years attending to business dealings and ignoring his spouse. Bergen also shines as her character, very fashion forwardly, tries to outrace death.

Moving along quicker than the clipped enunciation that Jackson often gives to her troubled anti-heroine’s dialogue, Death Cruise is currently streaming, without cost, on YouTube. A boon, of sorts, for those who are unafraid of the price they might have to ultimately pay for such an economical viewing fee.

Until the next time, SWEET love and pink GRUE, Big Gay Horror Fan!

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R.I.P to a Friend

Published May 5, 2016 by biggayhorrorfan

joey doll

He was a fire breathing tattooed badass with a teddy bear core…and the only other horror lover who I knew that appreciated Lords of Salem as much as I did. He made me laugh. He could flare so quickly with anger at the smallest things – a confused ticket taker or a pokey clerk at a drugstore – that I would often find myself overcome with a case of the giggles. But his eyes would brim with honest tears at the smallest acts of kindness and his loyalty was as ingrained in his being as the artwork that decorated his body.

I, honestly, could never quite believe that he wanted to hang out with me. He wandered the city with a bathing suit wadded in his pocket and would sneak into 5 star hotels and use their pools. There were a couple of fine dining establishments that he would grace only to take a shit in their fancy bathrooms. His relationships were always colorful, often outrageous and occasionally bombastic. I, meanwhile, despite various indiscretions over the years, have always felt mildly subdued – a little like the boy next door that I used to be, the kid that small town moms always dreamed that their daughters would date. I was always psychically pinching myself, feeling like I had won the momentary cool kid prize, while in his presence. The geek befriended by the fashionable outlaw, a clichéd movie plot point if there ever was one. joey annabelle

But everything always felt pretty cinematic when I hung out with Joey Kissling. On spring nights we’d bike down amber flared streets, side by side, his tiny speakers blaring out a selection of obscure dance cuts, a perfect soundtrack, as we talked about film and music and life and…death. He told me, months before his cancer diagnosis, that he felt time was closing in on him. And when the official sentence was passed down, he met it like he met the rest of his life – in his own unique manner.

He took off for California and attended concerts and drag shows and made new friends. He smoked and drank coffee and proved, beyond a doubt, that there will never be another like him. There is a missing piece in the swirling cosmos of single minded awesomeness now. Yes, others can and will be able to extol the virtues of death metal while simultaneously appreciating the grand color schemes of White Christmas, but none will do it with his vibrant commitment and pure love.

So, rest in peace, you crazy lord of darkness. I, and so many others, will miss you forever!

joey hug

…and until the next time (I see you)– SWEET love and pink GRUE, “your” Big Gay Horror Fan!

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