Move Over, Matthew Perry. I’m Here For Zac Efron

Posted on October 24, 2008 by queerlefty

I don’t know about you, but Matthew Perry isn’t exactly the main reason why I’ll go see forthcoming comedy 17 Again, scheduled for release in April 2009, and whose trailer was unveiled this week. As anyone who ever caught an episode of Friends would know, the man is actually capable of being quite funny, but I’m prettyy sure he will add almost nothing to the success or fiasco of this particular movie. One thing is that his movies so far have all been painfully bad (Almost Heroes, Fools Rush In, Three To Tango etc.), but more importantly of course, he’ll be absolutely overshadowed by his co-star Zac Efron, who, in a deeply cliched but no less disturbing twist, is set to play a younger version of Perry’s character, hence the title. New Line is banking on Efron, and it’s likely to be a wise move, because people like me are gonna give them our money.

But why, then, does it take so long for Efron take center stage in the trailer? Had I not known better, I would have assumed that this in fact was a Matthew Perry comedy, and not the new movie with the world’s most popular young male. The opening seconds of friendly banter between Perry and one I assume to be his best friend almost had me running screaming out of the room, and when we got to the point where Perry is time-shifted 20 years back in time, I had practically lost all hope in Hollywood. It took a full 50 – fifty! – seconds before Efron turned up. Will everyone be as patient as me?

When he’s finally there, though, there’s nothing wrong with him. Once you forget about the fact that he’s supposed to be a young version of Matthew Perry – and that the setup of the movie sounds a little too much like a male version of the horrible Freaky Friday, that starred Lindsay Lohan and Jamie Lee Curtis, – he’s as hot as ever And he even passes the ball around a little (He’s back in the game, as the narrator says, self-referentially). However, to keep ‘soft’ Efronites like me interested, it was probably not a bad move to throw Hunter Parrish into the mix alongside him. A double dose of earth-shattering sexiness should make this surely otherwise dreadful movie easier to bear. Parrish said, when promoting Spring Awakening, that he and Zac know each other and that he could possibly have been in Zac’s shoes right now, since he actually auditioned for High School Musical. It should be, erm, interesting to see them do something (like, y’know, acting) together. I already foresee an incredibly close fight for the Sexiest Male honors next April, if you know what I mean.

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What Josh Peck Adds To ‘The Wackness’

Posted on October 22, 2008 by queerlefty

It seems, having already heaped praise on Disney Channel for giving screen time and commercial success to everyone from Ricky Ullman and Jesse McCartney to Zac Efron and the Jonas Brothers, I’ll now have to turn my attention to rival Nickelodeon. At least that’s where Josh Peck, the breakout star of recent coming-of-age theatrical The Wackness, launched his career. From what I can gather from reading about Drake and Josh, the family-oriented sitcom he co-starred in with Drake Bell, today’s Josh Peck carry only the slightest resemblance to the Josh of yesteryear. First, he’s not a chubby (possibly even overweight) kid anymore. At 21, he’s slimmed down and has grown into considerable hotness. Secondly, The Wackness makes it perfectly clear he’s not a kid anymore, period. Movies about dealing pot, stitching your family together and palling around with quasi-suicidal old shrinks tend to hammer home that point.

Peck plays Luke, an 18 year old hiphop-loving slacker, who uses the summer of 1994 to ramp up his pot dealing, in order to (secretly) help out with his family’s financial troubles. During the summer months he pays regular visits to his client, Dr. Squires (Sir Ben Kingsley), whose daughter Stephanie (Olivia Thirlby) he falls madly in love with. As it turns out, Squires himself seems to have come to a fork in the road, and as the two them try to make sense of what their respective futures hold for them, they bond over a common love for music and marihuana. However, such brief plot summaries tend to do severe injustice to any movie, and The Wackness is no exception. For instance, you might get the impression that this is merely another somehat quirky stoner movie, and nothing could be further from the truth. I absolutely hate stoner movies (Dude, Where’s My Car, Smiley Face etc), and The Wackness is no stoner. The drugs certainly help ease the relationship between Luke and Squires, but as the story unfolds, it becomes clear that it’s only a minor part of it. If Squires at first is mostly a way for Luke to get to his daughter, their relationship soon develops into one of mutual dependence. Luke needs Squires to keep his mind straight, and Squires needs Luke to inject some new impulses into his tired life. At one point Stephanie mockingly asks Luke if he and her father are gay together, and I get what she’s meaning. Although (thankfully) there’s no physical attraction between the two men, the portrayal of their relationship is sufficiently nuanced as to make us believe that it’s perfectly natural for them to confide in each other.

More than a stoner movie then, The Wackness is a coming-of-age story and a love story. Though slackery, Peck manages to make Luke seem like someone a girl like Stephanie could actually fall for. He is far more insecure than he gives away at first glance, and that’s probably what makes him so charming. Watching from outside the fictional universe, and not needing to know exactly what kind of guy he is, I fell in love with him before Stephanie did (there really is something about that voice), of course, but when she finally does, it adds up nicely. For a while, at least. The first-love-ness of the whole thing carries with it a lot of emotional intensity, but to me The Wackness stays clear of the worst cliches, because, at critical moments, it never fails to back off a bit and bring things closer to earth, by injecting a joke or quirk. I guess many people will hate it for that, but considering it never gets cynical about it, I think it’s a wise move.

Also, The Wackness is the closest we’ve come to an ode to the early nineties since Cameron Crowe’s Singles, and I suspect that movie earned its status as a tribute to the grunge generation more from the cultural significance later attributed to it, than from actually wanting to be seen as an ode to the early nineties. It’s hard not to see The Wackness as a more explicit argument for why it was interesting to come of age at that time, particularly in 1994; early on, Luke makes fun of people who listen to Kriss Kross (giggle) one week, only to switch to Pearl Jam the next; people cling to their gameboys; emotional distress could still easily be attributed to Kurt Cobain’s death; Boys II Men was a household name, etc. Oh, and Method Man, as a kind of intertextual reference, plays Luke’s supplier.

Some critics have said that The Wackness is too preoccupied with being a kind of 1994 period piece, but that’s actually one of the things I like most about it. I was nine years old back then, and I actually listened to Kriss Kross (not Pearl Jam, though). I never ever thought they would come up as a pop culture reference again, but wham, there you have it. It’s like the 1990’s movie version of Everybody Hates Chris. That has to count for something.

Finally, Josh Peck actually reminds me somewhat of Adrian Grenier, who plays Vince Chase on HBO’s consistently brilliant comedy Entourage. Chase, of course, is modeled on the experiences of one-time rapper Marky Mark, perhaps better known these days as Mark Wahlberg. While probably not an intertextual reference as such, at least it’s a mildly amusing coincidence.

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‘7th Heaven’s Sexy Puritanism

Posted on October 15, 2008 by queerlefty

I wasn’t supposed to love 7th Heaven. First, it’s a generally conservative show, and second, it always ranked high when Parents Television Council named the ten most family-friendly shows on television, alongside snoozers like Dancing With The Stars and Touched By An Angel. Most of my liberal friends loathed it, and more or less openly looked down on me for falling into the conservative trap. At a certain point it stopped bothering me, however. I calculated that the ridicule would wear off more easily if instead I embraced the show, wholeheartedly, publicly and repeatedly. Once I found a decent rationale, it turned out I was right.

Early on I explained my continued viewership by claiming to be fascinated with the conservative mindset of the Camden family. Put simply, I claimed that I watched 7th Heaven for sociological reasons. I’m not sure anybody actually bought that, but I kept insisting so fervently that the questions soon disappeared. This explanation might have held some clout at some point, but by the time I started using it in public, I was in fact already way past that phase of my fandom. What started out as a mix of boredom and curiosity had matured into a real emotional connection to the ups and downs of the Glenoak community. I actually cared what happened with family rebels Mary and Simon. I wanted my daily dose of Lucyness. Heck, I even wanted to see what would come of Sam and David Camden, the less-than-gifted twins that were added to the family tree a couple of seasons in. By the time I admitted this to my friends, they had probably written me off as a lost cause, and possibly even a closeted conservative. They were right about the lost cause part.

When I first realized that I didn’t want to go back to my pre-7th Heaven days, I soon realized the perks that came with being a Camdenite; most notably a steady stream of cute guys. So steady was that stream, that one could suspect showrunner Brenda Hampton of subscribing to what Slate recently dubbed Sexy Puritanism in describing Republican veep nominee Sarah Palin. The moral outlook of the show is no doubt quite conservative – sex before marriage is seen as an outrage, abortion is never discussed as an opportunity for pregnant teens, and there are never ever any mentions of homosexuality or other controversial culture war topics – but that conservatism is brought to the viewers by the best-looking blood boilers the casting company could find. If the storylines went off the tracks at times, at least you could concentrate your attention on smashing regulars like David Gallagher, Tyler Hoechlin and Adam LaVorgna, and the show had a very impressive list of guest-starring hotness as well; whatever your taste, Thomas Dekker, Kyle Searles, Aaron Carter, Andrew Keegan, Will Estes, Erik von Detten, Jeremy Lelliot, Colton James… they’ve all been there.

I don’t know which of these perspectives offer the most compelling reason for you to give it a chance the next time you catch an old rerun on cable, but they all worked for me, at different times. I suspect I’m not done with the show just yet, even though the show itself folded years ago.

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‘Camp Rock’ Sorta Sucks, But I’m Still Going 180 On Jonas Brothers

Posted on October 10, 2008 by queerlefty

Now I finally know what all the fuss was about. Disney Channel’s Jonas Brohers promo vehicle Camp Rock premiered here in Norway last week, and is sure to make them a household name in contemporary Norwegian pop culture, just like High School Musical did to the once obscure Zac Efron. The most important thing I took away from it, however, was not the fairly average Camp Rock itself, but rather an actual interest in The Jonas Brothers, with whom I’ve previously confessed deep scepticism. Once the movie ended, I for the first time made a serious effort to look beyond the insanely successful commercial branding of the family trio, and searched out what put them in this position in the first place; their music. If two months ago I would admit to no more than failing to hate them, now I’m gonna do a complete reversal. I love them. Sort of.

So, what happened? First, I don’t really think it’s JB’s fault that Camp Rock is bad even by Disney Channel standards. Nothing wrong with formulaic and predictable HSM rip-offs, but one piece of advice: Then don’t be ashamed about it! In Jonas Brothers, Disney Channel has a trio of band members with obvious screen presence (one of them is even funny, at times), but instead of cashing in on that, they ship two (Kevin and Nick Jonas) of the three people that make up the band Camp Rock is supposed to promote off to supporting roles, and make the final one (Joe) suffer through food fights and endless staring at the sunset for the chance to play one song. I hoped and expected Camp Rock to be a cheerful and goofy musical, or at least a film about music and/or the Jonas Brothers, but instead I got the framework of HSM with crappier songs. With this rant out of the way, now to the reason that I’m still likely to see it again sometime.

The Jonas Brothers number in the movie is, if not exactly groundbreaking, a good, clean piece of punky pop music. After falling in love with much of their music, I realize this should have been at the center of Camp Rock, too. 2007’s The Jonas Brothers, to my surprise, turrned out to be chock full of deliciously straightforward, yet unabashedly lighthearted rock music, in the vein of Green Day, Busted and Blink 182, with a little Hanson and even Westlife thrown in for good measure. The Hanson comparison is as predictable as it is unavoidable (three brothers and all), but as faithful readers of this blog should know, I mean it as a compliment. It basically means their music get stuck in your head, and after a while you stop feeling ashamed about it and start actually enjoying it.

For instance, take That’s Just The Way We Roll. In what seems like a nod to the preceding Tulsa Three – battledance against Hanson – the establish a self-awareness that’s not cocky, so much as it is self-deprecating. All their references to being free and independent spirits can be tiresome, but who the hell care when they’ve coming up with songs like Still In Love With You, the ultimate non-threatening rock song, complete with clapping and foot-stomping insistence? Or Australia, combining their Franz Ferdinand feel with richly ridiculous lyrics (I know she won’t break my heart/’cause I know she’ll be from Australia); the soppy but well-crafted Westlife-y ballad When You Look Me In The Eyes; channeling The Coral on Goodnight and Goodbye; or Kids Of The Future, which would be far more wisely spent as Disney Channel’s official theme song, than in that dreadful animated movie.

Their third album, A Little Bit Longer unfortunately also is a little bit weaker, songs-wise, but it still has some quite decent pop-rock moments. Shelf probably gives the young teen audience a sense of real rock, and surprisingly, taken together with the slightly Hives-ian One Man Show its a perfectly understandable guilty pleasure for all of us whose tastes are supposed to be more refined. Same goes for Sorry, a song that could easily be written off as a intolerably grandiose power ballad. Once you give it a chance, however, you may discover the small synth details and vocal quirks that lifts it above its peers. Also, for a loyal Fanson it’s nice to see that Nick Jonas can do a respectable Taylor Hanson impression, like the title track, A Little Bit Longer.

The best surprises are those that are unexpected. Maybe that’s why right now, love doesn’t seem to be too strong a word for how I feel about Jonas Brothers. Oh, and Joe takes his shirt off in Camp Rock.

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Seeking To Avoid Clever Wordplay, Let’s Just Say Tottenham Is One Consistently Cute Club

Posted on October 1, 2008 by queerlefty

I really don’t like Tottenham Hotspur. Their reliably mediocre Premiership performances have never made them much of a threath to my beloved Liverpool, but their supporters are possibly the most undeservedly cocky of all. Every year they seem convinced that they will finally take the final step towards being a serious challenger, only to discover that they stumble so badly from the outset that their season is practically over by October. I know I should feel bad for them, but there is something about their consistent failure to connect with the real world (in which Tottenham of course is a Top Seven contender, at best), that instead makes their predictable disappointment a source of cruel satisfaction.

Lately, that has not been the only source of pleasure Tottenham has given me, however. As the results have become progressively worse (itself a welcome development), the squad has just gotten hotter. When they play up to their potential, Tottenham is capable of playing wonderful soccer, but they have had a truly terrible season this far, so one cannot blame me for focussing on other aspects of their performance. Left defender Gareth Bale, for example. As one of only two soccer players on the most recent Sexiest Males Alive list, he sits comfortably at #24.

He’s not alone, though. Central defender Michael Dawson may not fit everyone’s taste, but I think he’s kinda hot. Jermaine Jenas should of course fit everyone, and he probably does. To top it all it all of, he shares the midfield with the undeniably attractive former Blackburn winger David Bentley, and fellow England international Aaron Lennon. Likewise, the newly arrived 19 year old Giovani dos Santos is set to melt some hearts at White Hart Lane.

Overall, these guys amount to one simple reason to take Tottenham seriously: They could overtake Liverpool as the sexiest team in the Premiership. No matter how you slice it, the enemy has never looked hotter.

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Early Gay Crushes: Ryan Phillippe

Posted on September 25, 2008 by queerlefty

Nowadays, all major horror flicks are remakes of Asian gorefests, featuring screamy women running from creepy new tech devices seemingly out to kill them. But there was a time, not that long ago, when horror movies still meant trying to avoid getting slaughtered by other human beings. The movies that came out of the genre’s commercial revival in the mid-to-late nineties were mostly crappy, of course, but if nothing else, they gave career-making screen time to a number of hot young things that we might otherwise have missed; from Urban Legend‘s Joshua Jackson and Jared Leto, to The Faculty’s Josh Hartnett, and I Know What You Did Last Summer‘s Ryan Phillippe. It might be an exaggeration to say I’m grateful for such bad movies (and did we really need post-ironoc horror flicks?), but at least something (someone) good (-looking) derived from it.

Chief among them, Ryan Phillippe. If Freddie Prinze jr. was the breakout star of the franchise, it was no doubt Phillippe that sold me on it, to the extent that I have actually seen I Know no less than three times over the years. Yes, he was a little wooden, but that’s part of the charm about these films. Actors weren’t supposed to act, they posed. Likewise, you weren’t supposed to think, only watch. Worked for me. He made his way into my early canon of Crushes You Never Talk About (which of course encompassed all of them, since they were all guys, but you see my point) by doing another playful playboy role, in the supposedly sexy Cruel Intentions (1999). What it lacked in substance, it strived to make up for in forced in sex-appeal, resulting in an admittedly good-looking, but utterly shallow vehicle. But heck, he was naked!

It was only later, however, that I realized that Ryan Phillippe’s potential hunkiness is best served not when he’s playing a jock, but rather playing more somber characters. He reintroduced himself to me in Gosford Park, and then, almost immediately afterward, in the wonderfully sardonic comedy Igby Goes Down. I had turned 17 at the time, and the range of my preferences may have broadened a bit (I was no longer just looking for classic beauty), but that’s not to say I wasn’t immediately reminded of what drew me to him in the first place. His looks gave exactly the aura of cool arrogance to his Igby character that I’m sure the casting crew were aiming for, and he didn’t completely botch his stint for Altman either. Also, it seemed he had learned to make the most of his admittedly limited skills, choosing roles in which his looks and somewhat stiff delivery served the greater artistic goal.

You don’t need much more than beauty and a certain ability to make decent career decisions to to justify my keeping an eye on what you’re doing. Especially if you were discovered when I was still in my teens.

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Efron, Sheckler On Rise As Hunter Parrish Fends Off Challenge For September’s Sexiest Male

Posted on September 20, 2008 by queerlefty

The list is back after an August hiatus, with what we might call the Lessons From My Brother Edition. This blog has been a secret pet project of mine for the last several months, and I intended for it to stay that way, due to the, erm, somewhat private nature of the topics discussed here. But a couple of days ago, my brother discovered the site by accident, as I had apparently not been careful enough in erasing my web history. He’s gay too, and many of the changes on the list this month was triggered by our discussion of what changes he would have made to the July edition. Turns out we have much the same taste in men, and where we differ, his perspective has had a tendency to break into my own considerations. More on that in the round-up below.

First, however, I thought you should know that we welcome both Zac Hanson (#38) and Jonathan Taylor Thomas (#40) back on the list, after they both fell off in July. I guess working with the Early Gay Crushes series really brought back memories. In other news, Ed Speleers (#23) and Adam Brody (#25) both climb an impressive twelve spots this month, while young American Idol runner-up David Archuleta (#41) experiences the steepest fall, dropping a full 18 spots. He’s not alone in his misery, however, as Michael Cera (#48) and Frankie Muniz (#50) both drop 16 spots, barely making the cut. On a brighter note, we have five newcomers this month, ranging from Gossip Girl heartthrob Ed Westwick (#32) to old faithful middle Hanson, Taylor (#49) We also, perhaps only temporarily, bid farewell to Aurelien Wiik, Jay Brannan, Jay Baruchel, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Lukas Podolski, Jason Smith and Alfie Allen.

As I’ve said before, generally the movement on this list is caused by a particular standing to me as relatively more attractive that he was considered two months ago. That, however, of course doesn’t necessarily mean that any ot the other people on the list have become markedly less attractive, only that they perhaps have not been as good at getting my attention lately. With that said, let’s break it down:

#1-10: Again, the fight for the top spot was incredibly close. I’ve gotten comments lately about the obvious hotness of Jesse McCartney, and early in the week he again looked like the frontrunner. If I were to point to one thing in particular that again tipped the scale in favor of Hunter Parrish, however, I’d cite this incredibly hot clip of him doing a behind-the-scenes video for the Broadway musical Spring Awakening. He even sings well. As long as I keep discovering new things about him, J-Mac will have a hard time dethroning him. Beside from the rivalry for top honors, Zac Efron gains a remarkable five spots, almost exlusively due to the fact that I have never ever seen him look hotter than he does in this pic (To paraphrase John McCain: His smile alone contributes to global warming. And hos about those nipples! And pecs! *sight gets blurry*). Elsewhere in the top tier changes are minor, except muscular skater boy Ryan Sheckler lands at #7, on the strength of Life of Ryan photo stills, and a passionate sales pitch from my brother. Kudos also go to Ricky Ullman, the unconventional Phil of the Future cutie, breaking into the Top Ten, at #9.

#11-20: The second-tier resemble the sense of volatility that runs through the entire list. As memories of this summers Euro 2008 campaign faded, as he has been injured for the better part of the opening of the Premier Leauge season, Cristiano Ronaldo surprisingly has been knocked out of the Top Ten, currently residing in the #11 spot. This of course has got more to do with fierce competition than anything else, and he could back as soon as next month. Moving up, meanwhile, is Logan Lerman, who proved himself to be real pretty boy material earlier this year, with his glowing presence in James Mangold’s refreshing western movie 3:10 To Yuma. My brother then redirected my attention to former Home and Away star Chris Egan, who for the first time surpass former colleague Mitch Firth, taking 7th Heaven‘s Tyler Hoechlin with him on his way up. Hoechlin’s seven spot surge should probably be attributed to the fact that I sat down to watch some old Heaven episodes recently. He of course is pretty fit, and again, there’s something about that smile. Same goes for Ryan Donowho, who got plenty of The O.C. exposure this month, which obviously didn’t hurt. Also worth worth noting is that Kevin Zegers is back in the Top Twenty. While not exactly shocking for a DiCaprio clone, it’s still a somewhat unexpected development.

#21-30: In July, in an effort to explain why Ed Speleers and Adam Brody were suddenly in free fall, I predicted that “[E]ven though they might not be Top 20 material, you’d be unwise to permanently write [them] off“. Looking back, that now seems a little too definitive, as they both rocket upwards on this month’s list. In the case of Brody – whose rapid rise has much to do with this particular picture and his geeky charms in The O.C.- he in fact more than offset his June to July slide. As far as Speleers go, a quick return to his Attitude photo shoot from January was more than enough to move him up. I refuse to make another projection, but I no longer see any absolute reasons why their rise should stop here. Elsewhere, Gareth Bale profits from the start of the soccer season, while Jeremy Sumpter needs to win back my immediate attention. Quite surprisingly, tennis god Raphael Nadal failed to capitalize on both his New York Magazine profile, and his stint at the U.S. Open earlier this month.

#31-40: At #30, Chace Crawford is still the highest ranked Gossip guy, but Newcomer Of The Month, Ed Westwick, made him work for it. It remains to be seen how both of them do in the coming months, as their picture-perfect looks might lose a little bit of its appeal over time, but for now they’re well-positioned to climb. Daniel Agger has not played much for Liverpool yet, but the reminder that he’s still out there proved powerful enough to him a place on the list. He follows Michael Angarano, the boyishly cute former Will & Grace co-star, who owes his debut to the fact that I watched him in the truly awful family comedy Sky High a couple of weeks ago. Also, Aaron Carter’s slide continues, and he’s now under pressure from fellow 90’s idol Zac Hanson to cede the title as Sexiest 90’s Pop Act. Stay tuned. Brady Corbett simply has fallen victim to increased competition.

#41-50: We’ve already touched upon the demise of David Archuleta, but with all the names bubbling just below the #50 mark, frankly, I would be  somewhat surprised if he were to bounce back anytime soon. Sometimes, ‘cute’ alone may not be enough. Chad Michael Murray, on the other hand, may very well see his star rise, as I just realized what an underappreciated hottie he is. So long as he stays clear of extensive facial hair, his face (and body) has potential to melt its way far above the current #42 spot. I should also note that I tried to find a higher place for him, but unsuccesfully. We congratulate Taylor Hanson on his first showing, and extend warnings to both Michael Cera and Frankie Muniz that what they’re seeing could well be the writing on the wall. Could the geeky charms get them back in the game once again?

Sexiest Males Alive, September 2008 edition:

  1. Hunter Parrish (July ranking: 1)
  2. Jesse McCartney (2)
  3. Zac Efron (8 )
  4. Emile Hirsch (3)
  5. Nicholas Hoult (4)
  6. Mitch Hewer (6)
  7. Ryan Sheckler (13)
  8. Charlie Hunnam (7)
  9. Ricky Ullman (11)
  10. David Gallagher (10)
  11. Cristiano Ronaldo (5)
  12. Logan Lerman (16)
  13. Alex Pettyfer (9)
  14. Chris Egan (18)
  15. Tyler Hoechlin (22)
  16. Sean Faris (12)
  17. Mitch Firth (13)
  18. Jamie Bell (17)
  19. Ryan Donowho (25)
  20. Kevin Zegers (26)
  21. Jesse Eisenberg (19)
  22. Jeremy Sumpter (15)
  23. Ed Speleers (35)
  24. Gareth Bale (33)
  25. Adam Brody (37)
  26. Chris Lowell (21)
  27. Raphael Nadal (20)
  28. Max Theriot (24)
  29. Leonardo DiCaprio (28 )
  30. Chace Crawford (27)
  31. Fernando Torres (30)
  32. Ed Westwick (new)
  33. Randy Harrison (36)
  34. Michael Angarano (new)
  35. Daniel Agger (new)
  36. Aaron Carter (29)
  37. Rhys Wakefield (38 )
  38. Zac Hanson (RE)
  39. Brady Corbett (31)
  40. Jonathan Taylor Thomas (RE)
  41. David Archuleta (23)
  42. Chad Michael Murray (new)
  43. Ryan Clarke (39)
  44. Jody Latham (42)
  45. Ryan Phillippe (49)
  46. Kostja Ullmann (47)
  47. John Dempsie (48 )
  48. Michael Cera (32)
  49. Taylor Hanson (new)
  50. Frankie Muniz (34)
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I Don’t Want To Know About Your Celebrity Friends (Not Even If It’s Jonathan Taylor Thomas)

Posted on September 17, 2008 by queerlefty

This may very quickly turn into a rant, but the essence is this: I was replying to a comment I received on a previous post about how the character Ryan Evans was outed in the stage version of High School Musical. The commenter compared HSM to the movie Hamlet 2, in which one character apparently is outed, to make the point that Disney movies would probably not yet be ready for an openly gay character. As I have not seen Hamlet 2, I’m in no position to say whether this is a fair assessment of that particular movie, but I immediately went to IMDB to read up on the movie.

The character in question, Rand Posin, is played by Skylar Astin (he’s kinda cute, you know). And here comes the moral lesson of this post, which has fairly little to do with gays in movies at all: However useful a resource IMDB might be, please don’t ever get involved in their message boards. I’m cutting from a very small sample here of course, but when I entered the Skylar Astin board and clicked on the ‘Hilarious in Hamlet 2’ thread, I was met by this, from the poster broadwaytechie: “OMG SkyLAR! BOY CAN SING! LOL I LOVE SKYLAR MORE! (We’re Facebook buddies and he knows my name and hugs me every time I see him!)” And then this, from poster outtonight129-1: “Haha I’ve been to his house. We’re really close family friends and I’ve done plays with him.”

I guess I should be thankful that out went a little easier on the caps than b-techie, but the same obnoxious feeling lingers: If I didn’t exactly ask myself who these people are (I really don’t want to know), then I asked what made them feel that they had to advertise their celebrity friendships in such a way to make themselves look interesting, or even worse, important? There is a triumphant tone to the posts that’s really annoys me. Minor thing, you say? Yep, but still.

A couple of weeks ago, googling Jonathan Taylor Thomas for my ‘Early Gay Crushes’ post, I was led to his IMDB message board, and the same thing happened. As you might know, there have been som quite persistent rumours about the possibility of him being gay, and he even appeared in American gaymag The Advocate to quell them. Anyway, on the boards they still won’t let the idea die, and thus poster josephandsandy says: “I worked with the kid years ago on a film in Vancouver. He’s probably one of the kindest and smartest actors i’ve worked with. When we were working he had an extremely attractive girlfriend that visited often. (…). Not gay, real solid guy.” Leave aside for a moment the fact that “Not gay, real solid guy” could easily be interpreted as saying that gays are not solid guys. What really irks me again is this need to announce your first-hand relationship with the person in question, which is further underlined by that last sentence.

Am I just jealous? Okay, maybe a little. Could I just avoid the message boards altogether? Sure, I probably wouldn’t miss them. But the best alternative would be if people just stopped their celebrity shout-outs entirely.

Rant over. Back to our original programming.

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More On My Convenient Soccer Obsession

Posted on September 13, 2008 by queerlefty

During this summer’s Euro 2008 campaign, I confessed my passion for soccer. Like it or not, but sporting events actually has the potential to make or break a day for me. Luckily, you just caught me on one of the best soccer days I’ve had in a long time. I’ve been a fervent Liverpool supporter since I was about 8 or 9 years old, and during the English season (August to May), my weekend mood may fluctuate with the performance of my beloved Reds. Thus, I’m in heaven at the moment. For the first time under Rafael Benitez’ reign at Anfield, we took three points from a Premiership game against main rivals Manchester United, courtesy of an own goal by United defender Wes Brown, and a goal by Dutch Liverpool winger Ryan Babel.

I guess I shouldn’t complain, supporting a team routinely mentioned as a serious contender for the Premiership (I have good friends who are supporters of Newcastle United and Stoke City, after all), but it hasn’t always been easy being a Liverpool supporter. The team is constantly compared to its own gold-laced history, and if it isn’t, then it’s reminded of the fact that it hasn’t had a real shot at the big prize in the last fifteen years. But all that can be moved to the back of the mind for a moment with today’s result, and I can return to one of the convenient (and pleasurable) side-effects of my soccer obsessions: The chance to combine my interest in the game itself with my interest in fit footballers reaching for their physical limits to please the people watching (for whatever slightly dubious reasons).

However deeply rooted my Liverpool loyality may lay, I could define have been worse off when it comes to the players I’m supposed to worship. Fernando Torres and Steven Gerrard are of course first and foremost word-class players, but doesn’t exactly that they are also super hot. The Spaniard has that sense of classic beauty, but I have always been just as drawn to the masculine charms of the native Scouser captain. I bet you couldn’t say this about many players, but even his facing face has my heart racing. The term ‘love’ seems fitting, on several levels.

But Liverpool is a club committed to egalitarianism, and hence even cuteness trickles down: Argentinian Javier Mascherano is not for everyone, but to me he has a sort of stubborn (associated with his somewhat aggressive playing style) charm; Ryan Babel is still young, but he’s boyishly good-looking; new signings Nabil El Zhar and David Ngog have real potential, both on the field and the gossip rags, and I just realized that I’m kinda hot for Jamie Carragher, as well. Have you heard him talk? He has the cutest voice. And, though I’m still reluctant to admit it, there’s something oddly attractive about Dirk Kuyt. Not to mention Daniel Agger. Can’t wait to see him play again.

That sure isn’t a bad roster, and I’m pleased to get to see them compete for my attention every weekend. But today’s match even offered fierce competition from the half of the field. Unfortunately, the world’s most smashing footballer, Cristiano Ronaldo, still hasn’t recovered from his injury, but United (a team I absolutely hate, in every respect but this one), of course had other goods to offer up: How about Anderson? Or Nani? Or Michael Carrick? Nemanja Vidic? You get the picture.

A sport that brings this much joy and pleasure has to be good. I would expect to write more about soccer jocks as the season progresses.

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Madonna, Fabulous Ice Queen

Posted on September 5, 2008 by queerlefty

Madonna is one of those gay icons, possibly rivaled only by Kylie Minogue, whose flashy, extravagant lifestyle, floor-filling pop credentials and ability to embrace her iconic status, seemingly makes her practically unassailable. Worship has been passed on from gays who grew up with Like A Virgin, La Isla Bonita and Like A Prayer, to people like me, who came of age (many of us were only in our early teens) to late 1990’s/early 2000’s smashes like Ray Of Light, Music and What It Feels Like For A Girl (even for a gay, ‘You’d love to know what it’s like, wouldn’t you?” still is one of the hottest lines of the decade), and many have taken the mantle with pride. But because I was born to late to have a direct fan relationship with the Madonna of the 1980’s I have always struggled to feel much passion for that part of her career. Her tunes were catchy, sure, but I can’t help but associate her more with the increasingly vulgar presence she has morphed into in recent years.

I hope and suspect that this is more a generational thing, but I also know that any off-word about Madonna could make me out of sync with the gay community. Still I feel that though she has continued to make some delicious pop songs (Hung Up, Sorry, 4 Minutes) even on her recent lesser albums, the whole Madonna brand now seems to be more about her trying to prove she can still be sexy, than about churning world class chart-toppers. Madonna has of course always been about sex appeal, but could anyone watch the Hung Up video without feeling just a teeny bit embarrassed on her behalf? I couldn’t.

So what’s the solution for people like me, who want to enjoy their Madge, but are trying to manage their way between 1980 and 2008? I suggest a return to the late-90’s Madonna, and more specifically one song in particular. I was fortunate to be born late enough to mostly miss out on her early to mid-90’s stuff (think Rain, I’ll Remember, Take A Bow, Don’t Cry For Me Argentina), and that meant that I sort of discovered here when she released Frozen, the first single of the Ray Of Light album, her wildly successful collaboration with producer William Orbit. And what a magnificent introduction! The way the opening beats feels like their sneaking up on you, only to embrace you slowly, never stops to amaze. I know it’s a tired cliche, but the cold, mechanical feel of this song is actually perfectly captured in the title, and still contrasted by Madonna’s warm, yet slightly mysterious vocals. Her sex appeal is clearly present, both in the song itself and in the music video, but for once it’s understated, which makes it all the more interesting. It might be just me being nostalgic here, but I still heard or seen anything from her to top this.

So, she may well be the Queen of Pop, after all. The Ice Queen, that is.

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