Monday, 16 July 2007

Big Brother Bedlam

This summer’s Big Brother promises to be more outrageous than ever – with an even wilder array of circus freaks (housemates).

The time has come…and already we’re addicted.

This summer’s Big Brother promises to be more outrageous than ever – with an even wilder array of circus freaks (housemates).

What voyeuristic pleasure it’ll be to watch these personalities boil and bubble – with a healthy dose of paranoia and cabin fever. What will Big Brother come up with next!

Here are my first impressions. Sadly, both gays in the house are unforgivably cringe-worthy.

baz
Shahbaz As much as I feel the need to defend my fellow gay-sians, I think this may be the most obnoxious creature I’ve ever seen on television. Obviously very disturbed, this one craves all kinds of attention (especially negative attention) . And what’s with him groping everyone?? Ugh, Keep your hands to yourself!! And now he’s requesting ‘gay solidarity’ with bitchy Richard. If someone has tranquilizers in the house- please shoot up Shahbaz.
Star Quality: 2.5/10

Pete
Pete For all you hard partiers- this one may resemble a character you encounter at your neighborhood afterhours. I’m not sure how appropriate it is to put person suffering Tourette's Syndrome in the house—but then again, they’re all suffering in their own way, aren’t they? Mildly attractive, slightly unnerving, entirely entertaining.
Star Quality: 7.5/10

Lisa
Lisa Sassy, sloppy, and cynical…the perfect recipe for quality fag haggery. Her voice may make your skin crawl – but her swaggering drunken mannerisms, unapologetic attitude to Shahbaz, and fobby Chinese woman impressions definitely have entertainment value.
Star Quality: 6/10

Lea
Lea Plastic boobs, excessively tanned, and resembling Latoya Jackson. Probably has serious baggage. Pure camp, and surprisingly dignified. Boasting the largest breast implants in the UK. Need I say more?
Star Quality: 7/10

Richard
Richard A sexual terrorist? Please. Go back to Canada. Devoid of charm or intelligence, brimming with vanity. And seems to attract attention by perpetuating gay stereotypes. Let’s hope this queen can redeem herself because, at the moment, it’s looking grim. The problem with gay men? One word. Richard.
Star Quality: 4/10


Sezar
Sezar My mind says NO but my body says YES. Although he is ridiculously cocky, has trimmed chest hair, and the word ‘bastard’ often comes to mind – this little entrepreneur does have the most impenetrable sexual energy. Hmm, I wouldn’t say no. And he’s got our attention now that he admitted he’ll “kiss a man, no problem". Hop to it, Richard.
Star Quality: 6.5/10

Imogen
Imogen Sweet and Pretty. Hope she doesn’t give in to Sleazy Sezar. Mmm..that’s it. Points for being attractive.
Star Quality: 5/10
##

Glyn
Glyn As pleasant as you can hope a straight 18-year-old BB housemate to be. A bit tricky to understand his speech. Doesn’t like to be groped by strange men, which he carefully explained to the belligerent gay-sian (Shabaz) who still insists he has the ‘right to be tactile’. Ugh. Glyn, you have my permission to wallop the bitch if she touches you.
Star Quality: 3.5/10

Bonnie
Bonnie Let’s just call her Boner for entertainment sake. Or maybe Boring? Poor thing seemed a bit frightened of all the crazies in the house. I imagine the only way she’ll be able to provide entertainment is by having a breakdown. At the moment, dull and forgettable.
Star Quality: 2/10

George
George Another posh Chelsea brat. Apparently a momma’s boy. Who cares? Why is he there? It was vaguely amusing to watch him squirm with discomfort upon initially meeting his new housemates. He’ll be out soon.
Star Quality: 1/10


Mikey
Mikey Dreamy Welsh model. Mmmm. Reserved, quiet, and likes to cuddle. We’d like to imagine he’s a stud in the sack… and well hung.
Star Quality: 5/10

Grace
Grace The pampered, mildly patronising dance teacher hasn’t impressed us much . I sense a bit of a mean streak…which could potentially be fun. Already the two dancers – Grace and Nikki – are developing a bit of a competition. What will come of it?
Star Quality: 4.5/10

Dawn
Dawn Slightly concerned that girlfriend wants to be reincarnated as Jesus/Hitler, but this lady has held it together and seems to be one of the most level-headed heads in the house. Self- described as ‘serious and determined’, Dawn wins extra points for tactfully slamming Shahbaz. "Verbally I could destroy you, your puns are just shit," she told him bluntly. "You're a parody of John Inman and Mrs Doubtfire. You're a rubbish comedian because you've got no sense of humour." Pure genius. Minus a point for alleged BO.
Star Quality: 9/10

Nikki
Nikki I know this ‘wannabe footballer's wife ‘ may not be everyone’s cup’a tea, but I have to admit- her freak-out about Dawn’s alleged BO- has given us the giggles. Upon finding a sweatshirt that Dawn had been sitting on, Nikki questions the other girls " Why doesn't she[Dawn] just wear deodorant? It must be her fanny and her arse that smell bad then." Mmm. Let’s take a minute to thank channel 4 for this moment of TV heaven. Hoorah for tactless blonds! Someone’s gotta stir the shit.
Star Quality: 8.5/10

Stay tuned!

Hips Don't Lie

9/5/06

Aye, pappi! The Latin lovely Shakira seduces us with her hypnotic hips. Check out the video!

"My hips tell me where and when I should move. And my hips don't lie - my hips tell me the truth."

Work it, baby, work it!

While Britney's knocked-up and lactating and Christina's getting dirty with her hubby, pop goddess Shakira returns with a bang - and doesn't disappoint- with her saucy new video for "Hips Don't Lie".

Famed for her literary prowess, in this latest offering, Shakira may be implying her swivelling hips have intuitive powers to match her infamous mind.

GAY.COM has another video exclusive, featuring the new single with Wyclef Jean, where you can marvel at her mind-boggling body control.

Never mind pilates and yoga, the next craze is bound to be the Shakira Hip Workout! Enjoy.

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Music Quiz

Pledge Allegiance to Pink!

Pink has never been one for subtlety.

True, her last album Try This didn’t quite get off the ground, but the powerful Pink has returned with a vengeance, with her latest fiery album I’m Not Dead (she certainly isn’t!).

We have an exclusive live clip of her performing the controversial Dear Mr President, written as a scathing letter to the Dubya, asking questions like “What kind of father might hate his own daughter if she were gay?” and proclaiming “You’ve come a long way from whiskey and cocaine!”

Hoorah for politically-minded angry divas! She may be losing a fan base of Bible-thumping rednecks, but she certainly gets points from us!



Click here for more on the new album!

Sellevision!

7/2/06

Take a trip to the twisted world of home shopping in Augusten Burrough’s debut novel.

Although not quite as up to par as his critically-acclaimed and hysterical memoir Running with Scissors, Augusten Burroughs’s Sellevision takes us to a similar place: the surreal and camp world of America’s retail broadcasting network, in what Burroughs himself calls a “shallow, petty, mean-spirited little book”. If you’re into dark and sarcastic comedy, this is your cup a’ tea.

Reminiscent of Armistad Maupin’s popular Tales of the City, Sellevision reads swiftly, jumping from episode to episode in a quirky sit-com-like manner.

Full of laugh-out-loud moments, Burroughs mocks cliché over-the-top on-camera personalities, following the stories of Sellevision’s top tv presenters: Max, Peggy Jean, and Leigh.

Leading presenter of Sellevision, handsome and gay Max Andrews’s luck takes a turn for the worst when his accidentally exposes his penis on live television.

The scandal sets off a series of events including the promotion of Leigh, Sellevision’s junior presenter, who uses her new fame to plot an even more scandalous revenge on her current married boyfriend, who also happens to be her boss.

But the real star of Sellevision is Peggy Jean Smythe: church-going, elitist, and self righteous - the perfect embodiment of the teeth-clenched, irritatingly synthetic tv bitch.

After a string of vicious emails from a stalker mocking her “hairy earlobes”, Peggy Jean plummets into a world of binge drinking and pill-popping , following a pattern of favourite female gay icons, ironically redeeming herself through failure. As Peggy Jean loses her grasp on reality and heads to rehab, her husband turns his attention to the underage babysitter Nikki.

There’s something sadistically pleasurable about watching the demise of Peggy Jean, and at times, you almost wish the entire novel followed her – the other characters are tedious in comparison.

I found myself wanting to skip forward to Peggy Jean’s bits. Even Max, the staple gay of the book, comes across as a pitiful wet blanket.

While Sellevision is an engaging and humorous quick read, it comes off a bit flat. The energy that begins the book dwindles and most of the characters come across as one-dimensional caricatures.

Burroughs succeeds in creating the cartoony world of the home shopping network, and in a way, the book reflects his own cynical attitude toward advertising [His memoir Dry records Burroughs' years as an alcoholic Manhattan ad writer].

While Sellevision doesn’t reach the fantastic calibre of his memoirs, it certainly gives you a taste of his deliciously sardonic wit- and is perfect if you need a literary upper to relieve your winter blues.

'Beautiful' boys

18/1/06

A fantastic new London production of Jonathan Harvey's Beautiful Thing is set to close this week. Don't miss it!

Ah, young love!

Known primarily for the successful film adaptation - Beautiful Thing - Jonathan Harvey's uplifting story of adolescent gay love returns to the London stage in a one month engagement at the Sound Theatre in the Swiss Centre.

In this witty coming-of-age drama, a pair of teenage boys growing up in a working-class neighbourhood become aware of their homosexuality.

One hot summer in a South London housing estate, we meet Jamie, played by Andrew Garfield, unpopular and awkward, who lives with his tough but warm-hearted mother Sandra, a struggling barmaid.

He lives next door to his classmate Ste, an athletic type who often has to take a beating from his hard-drinking father and brother. When Sandra discovers the abuse, she offers refuge to Ste, who then bunks up with Jamie, thus unintentionally initiating the boys' budding romance.
Set against the backdrop of working-class 1980s London, the play deals with the trials and tribulations of the boys coming to terms with their sexuality and of their growing attraction.

It also explores the tender relationship between Jamie and his mother, with the subplot of Sandra’s desire to buy her own pub as a means to escape the dismal estate.

Adding some much needed comic relief there is Leah, a brassy high school dropout obsessed with Mama Cass, who spends her time smoking and doing a variety of mind altering drugs. If you’re tired of gay tragedies, Beautiful Thing offers an optimistic alternative, poignantly illustrating that out of the dreariest, angst-ridden circumstances comes a glimpse of hope.

Beautiful Thing
Sound Theatre in the Swiss Centre, W1
Featuring Andrew Garflied and Gavin Brocker
January 10- February 4
Box Office 0870 890 0503

Madonna Euphoria at the Astoria

22/11/05

Brimming with utter euphoria and hysteria, the Astoria became the centre of the world for many fans Saturday night; the Queen was due to arrive just past midnight. Following last week’s “warmup” gig at Koko (formally known as Camden Palace) Madonna decided to grace the stage at club G-A-Y in London, as a special, appreciative nod to her most loyal and faithful fans: the queers.

For those obsessed and devoted enough to queue up from the early morning to seize a holy purple wristband, the sweat and tears were all worth it to see the diva of all divas. The moment people got past security and saw the stage, gloriously projecting the album cover on a screen, most forgot who they were and turned into giddy 16-year-old girls. Every half hour up to showtime, the DJ played a Madonna hit, each time sending the crowd into bedlam as scores of balloons dropped from the ceiling.

As the clock struck half past midnight, the crowd eerily chanted her name. Her band appeared, looking sharp in vintage white suits. We screamed, we cried… and then, without introduction, the clock started ticking…with that orgasmic ABBA tune crescendo...and then, in a surreal moment, the screen projecting a spinning disco ball split, and there she was.

Achingly beautiful, clad in pink sequined jacket and pink hotpants, she strut downstage, followed by an entourage of stunning creatures and performed her 11th number one, “Hung Up”. Her body moved flawlessly, her voice sounded better than ever, and when she finally spoke, she resembled the feisty twenty-something New Yorker she once was.

Playful and chatty, she asked the crowd if they approved of her new album. Responding to the wild enthusiasm, she screamed, “Good! I wrote this album for you fuckers!!”

Seductively, Madonna stripped off her jacket, revealing her unworldly body tightly wrapped in a pink vintage leotard. She sighed and asked, “Aren't you guys hot! I should have worn my bathing suit. Oh wait....I did!” Before she agreed to continue, she demanded that everyone in the front row had to take off their tops. When some were shy, she asserted, “No. That’s an order!” to which a handful of sweaty t-shirts were flung into the air.

She continued and performed “Get together” and “I Love New York” (She defended her position, saying, “‘I Love New York’ is just a figure of speech. I fucking love London!”).
She apparently loves New York so much that she was even inspired to simulate masturbation, indulging her fans with some much-appreciated, old-fashioned Madonna debauchery.

She also treated the audience to a whole lot of fierce pelvic thrusts while aggressively pulling up her leotard, making it impossible to avoid staring at her luminous, powerful crotch. She even dry-humped the New York backdrop. Sitting on the stage, she began “Let it will be”, starting off slowly and then chaotically burst into a head- banging, arms- throwing, foot-stomping dancing frenzy.

Pure Madonna heaven.

Just as the sexual energy nearly blew the top off of the Astoria, Madonna graciously thanked her fans, finishing off the show with “Everybody”, her first single from 1983. The dancers, usually with stone-cold expressions, even let loose and were laughing as they were engulfed in another excessive balloon dropping.

Just as the song was about the end, Madonna started "Jump", and everyone did the obvious, probably breaking the foundation of the venue.And then, like an apparition, she disappeared, just as swiftly as she entered. Three days later, I’m still breathless.

Hollywood’s ‘veiled’ sexuality

Ernesto Tomasini returns to the Drill Hall in his clever, bittersweet, one-man ‘musical extravaganza’- "A Veiled Screen: A Secret History of Hollywood" - written and performed by Tomasini himself, exploring one gay man’s obsession, and identification, with Hollywood.

Despite some messy transitions and the sometimes superfluous, strained effort to include as many film references as possible, the show works quite well. He manages to pull off some very funny, as well as touching, poignant moments.

In this highly interactive, one man-show, Tomasini takes us on a surreal, dreamlike journey through the history of film, from the perspective of the sentimental cinema projectionist, Sebastian Venable.

Tomasini proves to be an incredibly talented, versatile performer. He convincingly brings to the stage a range of memorable moments from film, both male and female, tying them in with his gay identity. He even covers major moments in gay history.

He gives you a chance to relive classic movie moments, effortlessly highlighting just how campy and queer they really are.

Although he’s on top of the ball for most of the performance - when he initially comes on stage, he seems a tinge uncomfortable. Thankfully he warms up to it, and ten minutes in, he is flying.
From high camp drag numbers to slapstick comedy, Tomasini also manages to take us to the darker, quieter place in Sebatian’s mind. The show is skilfully written, with scenes of upsurd comedy juxtaposed with purposely facetious scenarios.

He begins as an silent film actor, brilliantly capturing the melodramatic mannerisms, takes a dramatic turn, and arrives on stage as a giddy 1950s housewife and, amazingly. pulls off a wonderful falsetto. He performs a number of other iconic screen moments, ending with powerful and ironic academy awards acceptance speech.

If you want an enjoyable and thoughtful night out, A Veiled Screen in your answer.
"The Veiled Screen – A Secret History of Hollywood" closes this weekend.

For information/online booking go to www.drillhall.co.uk

The Drill Hall
16 Chenies Street
LondonWC1E 7EX
Box office. 0207 7307 5060