Anal Fixation

Last Sunday my boyfriend and I went to see ‘Dracula AD 1972’ at the Columbia cinema in Shaftesbury Avenue. We were pleasantly surprised at the number of gays leaving the cinema at the end of the programme (and also waiting to get in) as we never realised that dear old Dracula had such a following amongst the gay community. You live and learn.

Of course before you see a feature film nowadays, you have to sit through long, boring dollops of advertising at almost every cinema. My fella and I carried on our conversation while the first batch of ads were being shown. But then, accompanied with trendy music, on came the Levi jean ad. And what a sodomite’s delight it was too. The screen was filled with bum after bum, all gloriously enclosed in tight fitting jeans in various colours and designs. It was impossible to tell which sex was which, but a fair estimate would be that the ‘performers’ were fifty-fifty male and female.

Not only were the beautifully shaped bottoms flashing on and off the screen at a furious pace, but every now and then there would be a little story told. For instance, one person was being searched, I guess, for ‘pot’, another scenario was about a couple just about to make love. There were people meeting, fondling, and so on.

The law outlawing sodomy is hardly ever enforced, except when involving minors, but one doesn’t often see anything relating to the subject, except in completely exploitative, fantasy pin-ups and hard-core ‘pornography’. And gracefully curved bottoms, whether you are into anal intercourse or not, turn a lot of us on.

Maybe it could be argued that they especially do so for gays, but I for one don’t really accept that. Also I suspect that many heterosexual people are somewhat inhibited about parts of the human anatomy except for the most obvious regions.

The Levi ad, to people aware enough to appreciate the delights of buttocks, whatever shape or size turns them on, will find this short commercial film to be nothing but pure pleasure. It’s a shame that this is the only way people of like mind, whether male or female, can view such cheeky happenings at the moment.

Right on, Levi’s though, your heads are in the right place for some of us. Thanks from a grateful sodomite.

Menace Merchants

Three different horror films from three separate distributors recently opened in London on the same day, meaning there are three cinemas one third full. They are:

  • Dracula AD 1972, directed by Alan Gibson; starring Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee. Distributed by Columbia-Warner.
  • Dr Phibes Rises Again, starring Vincent Price; directed by Robert Fuest. An AIP release, distributed by Anglo-EMI.
  • Tales From The Crypt, starring Peter Cushing, Sir Ralph Richardson, Barbara Murray et al; directed by Freddie Francis, Released by Cinerama Releasing (UK).

In terms of horror, the most convincing and chilling is Dracula, in which the celebrated Count is brought back to life, amidst a present day Kings Road, Chelsea setting. The Dracula blood sucking scenes are as erotic and eerie as ever, while the Kings Road background enables the film to make some cynical comments on the plastic Chelsea scene.

Tales From The Crypt is composed of several short tales involving the evil thoughts of five very English, bourgeois people trapped with a shaking Sir Ralph (dressed in monk’s habit) in an underground crypt. The evil people are all very obviously money mad, wealthy and establishmentarian, and the film is really an attack on these values. In a way the philosophical ideas are so subtle that they might in fact escape the average cinemagoer, and this is really the reason for the introduction of the horror sequences, which are nearly all irrelevant to the ideas of the story, and grossly over-edited. A good film if you can quietly absorb its leftish ideas which are very subtly transmitted.

Dr Phibes Rises Again is a veritable farago of very camp 1930s pastiche, art-deco sets, trippy colours and eccentric characters, all of whom land up in and around Egyptian mummies, searching for the elixir of life. Sarcastic and very entertaining.

Real horror and reality returns with a jolt in Johnny Got His Gun, starring Jeff Bridges and Donald Sutherland; written and directed by Dalton Trumbo (one of the ten Hollywood writers blacklisted by McCarthy) and distributed by the Rank Organisation. A stern, bleak and very upsetting anti-war film about a young American who while fighting somewhere in the trenches in Europe during the first world war, loses his legs, arms, sight, hearing and the parts of his brain which help him to speak. A maniac doctor decides to keep him alive as a kind of scientific curiosity, and locks him up in a small dark room. But he hasn’t lost his feelings or his memory, and he spends his time thinking back to his life in small town America, which seems as futile as war and the vegetable it has made him. He eventually manages to communicate with one of the nurses by tapping his head on a pillow in morse code. The words “Kill me. kill me.”

A sad poignantly, horrific film. Not to be missed.