Though Midnight Mass went on as scheduled both Friday and Saturday, an event just down the road at Internos Wine Cafe informed the two sceenings of "Showgirls" in a curious way.
What everyone agrees upon: Grafitti artist Joshzilla and his German boyfriend Sebastian stopped into Internos for a drink before Friday's show. The two men began kissing and touching one another.
The owner was uncomfortable with how heavy things were getting. Instead of continuious patiently asking the men to desist or leave, he forced Sebastian to the ground and had Joshzilla bounced.
What is disagreed upon: Whether or not there was was going on could be perceived as public sex and whether or not the owner said, "faggot," and other choice words as he escorted the men out.
Consider that even an act of public fornication would not warrant the use of violence. Consider that, even without an anti-gay epiteth, heterosexuals in wine bars are generally not known for their erotic restraint.
The dispute suddenly becomes a question about how easily gay men can be cowed into measuring their affection in public settings.
What the owner expected was that two gay men would be self-censoring to the limits his comfort set. His limits, as though he had a superior understanding of social propriety. Then, when expressing himself in a socially dysfunctional way, a violent and unprofessional way, he could confidentlly point to their sexual awfulness as his motivation.
clockwise from upper left: Dimitrios Poulos, Clayton Robbins, and Brendan Blakewell from the Mayor's Office of Neighborhood Services share a smooch. Commedian Ali Mafi tells jokes to the assembled. Kiss-in participants hanging beside some art at Internos. Charisma Glitterati and Joshzilla.
When I woke up Saturday morning and saw that momentum was building on Facebook for some kind of protest or intervention, I was both disheartened and relieved. Too often Web 2.0 applications permit us to disseminate information in an untidy way. Certainly in a way that makes it difficult for any constructive, lasting change to occur.
On a Saturday it would be very easy to get the news to respond, for example, but the Board of Supervisors would be unlikely to be responsive. Yelp could be mobilized in short order to bring Internos' rating down with single bullet stars, but scarcely any contemplative text could be written.
So for a few minutes I resisted and then I said, "I should go." To support the work of Anna Conda and Charisma Glitterati, who organized an action and really have all the necessary connections and experience to prompt a lasting change. And because Joshzilla needed a show of love as well.
Today's kiss-ins are not the kiss-ins of ACT UP and Queer Nation in the early 1990s. These are not defiant spectacles. They are cautious efforts. There were pecks and smooches and lip-lingering greetings. There was no prolonged raputurous necking.
Lots of attendees bought a drink (ideally what you do to prevent loitering or nuisance charges) and tipped. Everyone was polite and the other patrons noticed without being disturbed.
The owner was concillatory, explaining his motives, his stressful 12-hour day, and offering a bottle of champagne to bury the hatchet if not in apology.
Joshzilla, was still angry and a bit on the spot. Attendee DeeDee put it best, "Josh, what do you want to get out of this? We're here for you."
Regardless of how the business might suffer (or inadvertantly prosper) over the publicity, Josh did the right thing by refusing to suffer in silence.
It will be difficult for the owner to defend a violent action on his premesis. If the gay community, or any community is about anything, it's about holding those who compromise it accountable. It seems likely that a complaint will be filed with the Mayor's office.
L to R: Yours Truly and Hugz Bunny who has composed original music for the pre-show all season. Peaches Christ and her "Goddess dancers", Syphillis Diller, L. Ron Hubby, and Marina Bitch (not pictured: Becky Motorlodge.)
After those heavy moments, Midnight Mass provided just the right kind of distraction.
Peaches Christ opened with her famous "Volcano Entrance" popping up from a paper mache lava cone lined inside with twinkling lights. Her "Goddess dancers" flanked her, stretching, looking beautiful and bored in gold lame.
above: An array of lapdancers prepare to toss popcorn into the asiles.
After a routine, Christ introduced the cadre of performers who would be offering lapdances. Everyone who purchased a jumbo popcorn was eligible for a free lapdance. At the screening I attended, Christ asked for a show of buckets.
There were maybe thirty jumbo popcorns aloft in the theater. A proud night for consessions!
Among the lapdancers:
- Tigga Please - a gangsta furry in tiger drag.
- Kegel Kater, Clammy Faye, Kitchenette - REAL girls!
- Kim Burly - her vajayjay had little hands coming out of it.
- Anjie Myma - in plantation drag, shielding herself from Christ with her hands.
- Sandra O' No She Didn't - in a "cougar drag" pantsuit with a pair of tongs and a bag of aluminum cans.
L to R: Lady Bear's o-face, Cousin Wonderlette's point of contact, Marina Bitch shakes some glitter on me.
My personal lapdance experience began with Kim Burly who blithely removed the popcorn bucket from my lap and began eating it. Cousin Wonderlette followed for a sustained period in a horribly wrong body stocking adorned with genital appliques. Lady Bear did her best impersonation of Elizabeth Berkely in a swimming pool whilst enveloping me in her bosom. Marina Bitch was the last on the lap.
Can you believe? Four free lapdances for my jumbo corn!
While the Bridge isn't going to put Mitchell Brothers out of business anytime soon, the range of entertainers was impressive.
L to R: in the mele of lapdancers, Kitchenette (asile), Miss P, Tweaker Bunny, and Cousin Wonderlette.
"Showgirls" is the only film to screen every year at Midnight Mass.
Besides the appeal of the naked ambition storyline, there is the oddly mannered and unnatural dialogue, Vega$, the flesh, the hysteria.
The velocity of this movie refuses to be diluted. It's like a two and a half year cocaine binge compressed into two and a half hours.
"Showgirls" was released at a time when the adult industry was just beginning to show it's full potential. As an adult industry cautionary tale, set in L.A. with porn fame as it's goal, the rough career mongering in Showgirls might have had plausibility.
No one imagines the dance professionals at Cirque de Soleil or a high end Vegas showroom on catty scorched earth campaigns. Can you imagine Kenny G or Wayne Newton orchestrating a gang rape?
The natural destination for the sequel, Los Angeles, was likely the original destination for the screenplay. But picture selling a studio on the development! The gambling and lights of Vegas, where many motion pictures had been set, was much more reliable backdrop than Tarzana. The theater, with it's elevated, non-ironic sense of spectacle, would excite investors more than the goings on in a shady adult video production warehouse would.
Every time I see the film, I am struck by how casually gay and lesbian sexuality is portrayed. Maybe even aggressively promoted in places. Ok, the "lesbianism" is to pump up heterosexual male three way fantasies, but none of the characters denigrate another character based on their sexual orientation. And they are all game. That just never happens in the movies!
Maybe that's part of reason we like "Showgirls" but also why it feels so unreal. Neither Hollywood, nor Vegas, nor more conventional stages has produced a gay or lesbian sex symbol star on the level of Cristal Connors - not even close - in 15 years.
And as a night down the block has shown, without the active support of our own, LGBT people still measure how much of their preference to let out of the barn.