Naked Came I

"New York Times" film critic A.O. Scott has an interesting article in the January 30th paper titled "Critic's Notebook: Enraged Filmgoers: The Wages of Faith?". The article discusses the evolution of films about Christianity through history, from early if simple-minded epics like "The Robe" and "Ben-Hur" and "The Ten Commandments" to more agonized if possibly blasphemous efforts like "The Last Temptation of Christ" and ponderous dullards like "Jesus of Nazareth."

Along the way, Scott discusses Pier Paolo Pasolini's "The Gospel According to Matthew." Scott calls Pasolini a "Marxist Catholic," and seemingly dismisses Pasolini as a harmless if Marxist filmmaker with a secret desire to be a Christian.

I have to wonder if A.O. Scott ever saw "The Gospel According to Matthew" -- or, indeed, any of Pasolini's fiilms.

Pasolini is considered one of the greatest Italian filmmakers, and one of the greatest filmmakers ever. He ranks with Godard, Truffaut, Welles, Cukor, Capra, Wilder. Pasolini was an acclaimed poet, literary critic, essayist, linguist, teacher, painter and novelist. To this day, he is considered Italy's premier modern poet, comparable to the way Robert Frost or Carl Sandberg is revered in America.

To call Pasolini a "Marxist Catholic" is to miss everything that was Pier Paolo Pasolini. Pasolini was not Christian in the slightest, and was roundly critical of the Catholic Church (although he admired its "high church" pomp and rites for their camp value). The Catholic Church excommunicated him for blasphemy. The Catholic Church had the Italian government ban his films and novels more than 12 times. Pasolini delighted in the charges: He wrote long, analytical essays on his films and books, exposing their faults and praising their values while rigorously defending them from censorship and charges of obscenity.

Pasolini passionately identified with those afflicted by poverty. His films usually focused on the plight of the peasant and urban poor. Pasolini grew up in Bologna (the son of a pesant woman and noble-born soldier), and by the age of 22 had come out of the closet -- and made a national reputation for his amazing poetry. He moved to Rome and began writing novels. His first novels -- "Una Vita Violenta (A Violent Life)" and "Ragazzi de Vita (Boys' Life)" -- were declared obscene by the government. Pasolini was acquitted.

Pasolini drifted into film, working as a production assistant on Federico Fellini's "Nights of Cambria" and Bernardo Bertolucci's "The Grim Reaper."

His first film was "Accatone" (1961), made when Pasolini was 39. It is a harrowing, realistic look at the slums of Rome. The film is a slice of life that follows the travails of Accatone, a young male pimp who is torn between the easy life of pandering and trying to go straight for the girl he loves. Bertolucci assisted on the film.

Pasolini died in 1975 at the age of 53. He had just finished "Salo, or the 120 Days of Sodom." The Italian police said that a 17-year-old hustler, upset over Pasolini's sexual advances, lost control, beat him to death, crushed his skull, and then ran over him 17 times with Pasolini's own Alfa Romero.

However, the court of inquest found that "others" were involved. The court inquest was subsequently sealed by the Italian government out of "national interest" concerns. The suspected truth is that the Catholic Church, outraged at Pasolini's latest obscenity, arranged his death in cooperation with the Italian government and the Rome police.

I was astounded at this article's portrayal of a "sweetly liberal" Pier Paolo Pasolini.

His third film, "La Ricotta (Sealed)", made in 1962, was part of a series of films commissioned by the Cinecitta film studio. Various directors had been asked to direct short vignettes. Pasolini turned in "La Ricotta." A disinterested film director, played by Orson Welles, is shooting a script based on the crucifixion of Christ. Among the film's highlights are a "Jesus" who has sex with boys in the bushes between takes, and a thief who dies on a cross next to Jesus -- literally, because the actor playing the thief dies of indigestion after having eaten too much ice cream between takes! The brutal, shocking comedy was declared "insulting to religion" by an Italian court. Pasolini served four months in prison.

"The Gospel According to Matthew" (1964) is only his fifth film. True, it was dedicated to the memory of Pope John XXIII. True, it was partly financed by the Catholic Church. The film is a neo-documentary filmed in the dry, dusty region of Calabria in southern Italy. Despite a faithful use of the Gospel of Matthew, Pasolini's Jesus is also depicted as radically Marxist. The Catholic Church praised the film for its faith, but later denounced it for its immoral Communism and disbelief. (It seems it took the Church a while to realize just how Marxist Pasolini's Jesus was.)

In 1968's "Teorema (Theorem)", a holy young man (played by a young Terence Stamp!) enters the house of a troubled but wealthy family. He soon seduces the father, mother, son, daughter and maid. Pasolini made the film to support his thesis that the ruling class can be undermined by the one thing it cannot control -- sex. It won the Grand Prize at the Venice Film Festival, but was publicly denounced by Pope Paul VI. Pasolini was accused of obscenity and public immorality, but beat the charges at a highly public and celebrated trial.

"Porcile (Pigsty)" [1968] intertwines two stories. One, set in medieval Germany, features a soldier coming home from the Crusades who falls into cannibalism and eventually recruits a band of cannibals. They travel to Mt. Etna and cast the heads of their victims into the volcano. The other is about the son of a Nazi industrialist. The son has become an important Italian politician. Guilt-ridden over his father's role in the Holocaust, his political beliefs become increasingly confused. At home, rather than make love to his beautiful wife, he prefers the physical and sexual company of his neighbor's pigs. The film is a brutal allegory about the innocence of the average citizen and the threat they pose to "civilized" society when corrupted by power and violence.

In "The Decameron" (1970), Pasolini filmed the Renaissance writer Boccaccio's bawdy tales. The film takes a special, perverse pleasure in depicting the Catholic Church's repressed clerics frolicking lecherously among their placid (and willing) sheep/congregation. Again, the government accused Pasolini of obscenity and offenses against religion, and again he beat the rap. Pasolini followed it up with "The Canterbury Tales" in 1971 and "Arabian Nights" in 1974.

"Salo, or the 120 Days of Sodom" (1975) is Pasolini's last film. Salo was the site of Benito Mussolini's brief puppet government in Northern Italy.

Because you probably don't know:

With the Allies closing in on Rome in the spring and early summer of 1943, Benito Mussolini had lost all credibility with the Italian people. Massive strikes occurred -- the first in 20 years. Even within the Fascist Party there was widespread dissatisfaction with Mussolini. On June 25, 1943, Mussolini was arrested on the order of King Victor Emmanuel and taken to a ski lodge on Gran Sasso d'Italia in the Apennine mountains (about 75 miles northwest of Rome). The lodge was accessible only by railroad and had been built so recently that it was not marked on military maps. On June 26, King Victor Emmanuel named Marshal of the Army Pietro Badoglio prime minister. The new government immediately entered secret negotiations with the Allies for an armistice.

The Germans were aware of the Italian bid to surrender to the Allies and made preparations to seize Rome themselves. On September 8, 1943, after a series of last-minute deals, Badoglio announced an armistice with the Allies and promptly fled with King Emmanuel toward the Allied lines -- leaving the Italian army and navy without any directions or a commander-in-chief. The Germans promptly occupied Rome and much of central Italy in the wake of the armistice. The Germans slaughtered tens of thousands of Italian troops who tried to lay down their arms, and eventually disbanded the Italian Army.

On September 12, 1943, after weeks of frantic search, German intelligence managed to locate where Mussolini was being held and launched a covert operation to rescue him. The operation was organized and carried out by German paratroopers under the direction of Otto Skorzeny -- the scar-faced SS captain who was Adolf Hitler's favorite spy.

Reconnoitering the site, Skorzeny flew over Gran Sasso at 15,000 feet -- hanging out a window in a 200-mile-an-hour wind and taking pictures of the ski lodge. The pictures showed a large meadow near the lodge on which German planes could land. Three days later, Skorzeny and 90 SS paratroopers flew silently down toward the lodge in 12 gliders. To their horror, they discovered that the meadow's far end resulted in a cliff. Skorzeny ordered his pilot to make a "vertical landing" (e.g., crash the plane). Skorzeny's glider landed with just 3 yards to spare. Skorzeny and his men swept past the shocked Italian guards without firing a shot. They freed Mussolini as a German ultralight airplane landed in the field. The German pilot insisted the plane would crash with three people aboard, but Skorzeny demanded that they take off. The ultralight plummeted over the cliff, but it gained enough speed as it fell to actually gain some lift. It barely avoided the rocks below, and Skorzeny and Mussolini flew to Nazi-occupied Rome.

(This was not Skorzeny's only grand adventure. When the regent of Germany’s last European ally -- Hungary -- wavered on the brink of surrender in 1944, Skorzeny kidnapped the regent's son and later led a German-backed coup that kept Hungary in the war. Skorzeny was tried for war crimes in 1947 and acquitted. He was handed over to the West German authorities. He escaped and fled to Spain, where he was feted and praised by fascist dictator General Francisco Franco. Otto Skorzeny died in 1975.)

On September 14, 1943, the Germans moved Mussolini to a Renaissance castle near Rastenburg, where his Fascist generals had also been gathered together. Mussolini initially refused to take up the reins of power again, believing it would plunge Italy into civil war. But after Hitler himself called Mussolini, Mussolini formed a new fascist government on September 23, 1943, using the name "Repubblica Sociale Italiana" (RSI). Its capital was located at Salo, a small village on Garda Lake.

Anti-Fascist political parties, which had been engaged in underground resistance against Mussolini's government since 1940, denounced the Badoglio government as fascist and refused to join it. Furthermore, they demanded that King Victor Emmanuel abdicate. In April 1944, the Communists under Palmiro Togliatti joined the Badoglio government. In June 1944, Victor Emmanuel's son, Umberto, was proclaimed "lieutenant general of the realm" (essentially, head of state). A coalition government of anti-Fascist parties then formed, headed by Ivanoe Bonomi, a Socialist.

Mussolini attempted to retreat further into northern Italy (deeper into the German-held Italian Alps) as the Allies advanced. To disguise himself, he wore a German Army uniform with greatcoat and helmet, and traveled with only four German Army guards. But the party was stopped by anti-fascist Italian guerrillas ("partisans"). Mussolini had refused to take off his expensive leather boots, and the boots gave him away. The partisans arrested Mussolini on April 28th and held him and his mistress overnight in a farmhouse. The partisans executed him on April 29, 1945. They took the bodies to the local town and flung them into the central square. The townspeople desecrated the corpses, then strung them up with barbed wire. Germany surrendered on May 8, 1945.

So -- "Salo, or the 120 Days of Sodom." It's a depressing film about the human condition that contains horrific scenes of emotional and sexual degradation. The film really isn't about Mussolini. It takes the Marquis de Sade's never-finished manuscript, "120 Days of Sodom" (written during de Sade's first imprisonment in the Bastille) and transposes it to Salo in the waning days of the Mussolini regime. Four men, all fascists and all pillars of Italian society (a bishop, a duke, a banker and a judge) act out bizarre rituals that demonstrate and reaffirm their lust for power. They kidnap 16 teenage boys and girls and sadistically force them to engage in a wide variety of appalling acts. Among the hundreds of behaviors graphically depicted are homosexuality, coprophilia, necrophilia, incest, torture and murder. When one boy is found having sex with a girl, both are decapitated for their "aberrant" behavior. The bishop is the most depraved of them all, mouthing platitudes about Christ, faith and love while committing child-rape and murder. Pasolini's film is about the way power corrupts, and it is an outrageous and deliberate attack on the four pillars of Italian society.

Does this sound like the "Marxist Catholic" who is radical but harmless -- the Pasolini that appears in the middle of the New York Times article?

Not to me it doesn't.

And I doubt anyone who sees Pasolini's "The Gospel According to Matthew" can read it as a "grand statement of faith infused with Marxism" in light of "Salo."

Cleveland Indians minor league pitcher Kazuhito Tadano has admitted that he made an appearance in a Japanese gay porn video. Tadano took part in the video three years ago when he was a college student.

Shunned by Japanese baseball teams, the 23-year-old Tadano signed with the Cleveland Indians in March 2003. The Indians think he will move up to the majors this year. At a press conference, Tadano used the I-was-drunk-and-young-and-needed-the-work excuse: "I was young, playing baseball, and going to college, and my teammates and I needed money. I'm not gay. I'd like to clear that fact up right now."

Tadano was one of Japan's top college pitchers and was expected to be a high first-round draft pick in 2002. But after a Japanese tabloid published photos of him in the video a month before the draft, pro teams in Japan did not select him. Tadano tried out for several major league American teams in the spring of 2003. His agent, Alan Nero, said some teams were turned off by the scandal.

The Cleveland Indians say that they don't care what Tadano did, and claim it was "regretful." The Indians did not defend homosexuality or adult video First Amendment rights.

Press reports say that Tadano is likely to be heckled and gay-baited by fans, especially those in New York City.

A group of fascist Christian Montanans has asked Gov. Judy Martz (R) to suspend a 3-year-old state government employment regulation barring discrimination against gay and lesbian employees or job applicants. The group of homophobes, called Montana Help Our Moral Environment (Montana HOME) is led by Harris Himes, a Hamilton pastor and attorney.

Martz did not argue for equal treatment of gays and lesbians. Nor did she denounce the ulterior motives of the Himes group. Rather, she agreed that she will review how the rule was adopted to determine if any laws regarding the adoption and implementation of new regulations were broken.

Montana HOME's Dallas Erickson also urged the governor to launch an investigation into health concerns surrounding strip clubs and adult stores. Erickson said he's convinced that increases in sexually transmitted diseases are attributable to such businesses and the state has an obligation to pass laws restricting what goes on in those operations. Erickson suggested Martz appoint a commission to conduct an investigation.

Martz said she would talk to officials in the Department of Public and Health and Human Services about the group's concerns. But she balked at the state doing the research for opponents of the controversial businesses. (That's absurd. Is Martz really suggesting that the state engage in absolutely no research on public health concerns?)

Erickson said he was not urging a prohibition on the businesses, but rather stricter regulations regarding their activities.

And if you believe that, I've got a bridge in Brooklyn to sell you.

Erickson's assertion that adult businesses breed disease (note the real fear: That such places of business will tempt and seduce the good, upright menfolk of Montana into masturbation, adultery, pre-marital sex and divorce) is demonstrably untrue. See:

* Public sex venues such as bathhouses, adult bookstores and adult cinemas actually are remarkably free of unsafe sex, effectively and uniformly promote safe sex once a program is implemented and/or required, and public authorities often have to falsify evidence in order to shut down such venues under public health laws and regulations (Marc E. Elovitz and P.J. Edwards, "The D.O.H. Papers: Regulating Public Sex in New York City," in Policing Public Sex, ed. by Dangerous Bedfellows. Boston: South End Press, 1996).

* Public sex venues are arguably the best locations for promoting safer sex (Ephen Glenn Colter, "Discernibly Turgid: Safer Sex and Public Policy" in Policing Public Sex, ed. by Dangerous Bedfellows. Boston: South End Press, 1996).

* Public sex venues often are the only ways to access the most difficult-to-reach populations committing unsafe sex, and are often the only successful venue and method for reaching them (Allan Berube, "The History of Gay Bathhouses," in Policing Public Sex, ed. by Dangerous Bedfellows. Boston: South End Press, 1996).

These fascist Christians -- who seek to regulate every aspect of life, right into the bedroom and even personal decisions about marriage (see Bush's latest $1.5 billion advertising push to get everyone married and to STAY married, damnit) -- are a potent political force in Montana. In every decaying society, people seek moral certitude. The Taliban brought a certain (warped) worldview that made sense of a society gone mad with invasion, war, poverty, disease and destruction. As the Roman empire collapsed, moral conservatism became the norm.

And in Montana, sadly, as the state sinks into ever-greater poverty and its extraction-based economy mirrors that of Third World societies, the people of that great state turn increasingly toward Christian fascism as their hope.

I used to like living there...

I am officially pissed off.

In 2001, Janssen (the German gay porn publisher) produced the second in its "American Photography of the Male Nude, 1940-1970" series. This one focused on Lon of New York (aka Alonzo Hanagan). The book was paperback and consisted of 120 pages of photographs (18 of them in color) hand-picked by Lon Hanagan. The book was edited by him as well, and featured a three-page bio of him. Cost: $35.

Now, two years later, "Lon's best friend" Reed Massengill has put together a new retrospective of Lon of New York's work: "The Male Ideal: Lon of New York and the Male Physique." It's coming from Universe Books (who? Huh?). It contains 160 pages (who knows how many photos, whether in B&W or color). Cost: $21.

Now, the blurb on Amazon.com claims that the new book edited by Massengill ("Lon's lifetime friend and confidante") contains "the lost works" of Hanagan -- photos destroyed in the two raids on his studio in the 1950s. Massengill apparently collected as many as he could find and purchased them from collectors. They are scanned and "shown here for the first time."

Who knows if that is true? But it's not likely that Lambda Rising (my local gay bookstore) is going to carry the book. (They are getting out of the photobook business, except for porn star books.) I wish -- I just wish that if Reed Massengill had really been Lon's friend, he would have given Lon these "lost" photographs back in 2001 so Lon could put them in the Janssen book. Lon died in 2002.

Not only am I going to have to go to the trouble to find someone who does carry this book so I can see if it's worth the $21 of buying it, but I am mad that Massengill just decided to fuck over a dead legend just to make money.

Marcus D'Amico -- the "Tales of the City" star who made his Broadway debut in "An Inspector Calls" -- will join the West End company of "Mamma Mia!" beginning Feb. 9 (according to the Playbill article about this).

Marcus D'Amico finally gets another job! I wonder if he's gay again...

FYI, in case you didn't know: When "Tales of the City" was being cast, author Armistead Maupin had casting approval. He said that only an openly gay actor would be accepted for the role of Mouse. D'Amico was not openly gay at the time. But, according to Hollywood rumor, he pledged on his mother's grave that he'd come out of the closet by the time the mini-series aired on PBS. Maupin grudgingly agreed to permit D'Amico to be cast.

The mini-series came and went. No announcement from D'Amico.

D'Amico subsequently gave an interview to the national press claiming he was straight. Maupin went ballistic. But there was nothing he could do. If he outed D'Amico, D'Amico could sue for slander. And Maupin had no proof of D'Amico's homosexuality.

A few months later, Maupin and some friends were heading for the End-Up, the real-life San Francisco bar featured in the mini-series. Coming out of the bar with a trick was D'Amico. Maupin had to be physically restrained from beating the living shit out of Marcus D'Amico. D'Amico fled the scene.

D'Amico's career has been in the toilet ever since. No one trusts him.

2004 marks the 30th anniversary of Wilbur Mills' toppling as "the most powerful man in Washington."

D.C. has little in the way of scandal. Oh, I suppose one can go to the East Steps of the U.S. House of Representatives and stand where Rep. Bob Jenrette and his wife fucked on the steps at night. But jeez, those are just steps.

The "Exorcist stairs" are famous. So is Auguste Rodin's haunting funeral memorial in Rock Creek Park. But the former is a famous movie location, and the latter...well, just famous. D.C. has lots of famous "stuff" in it. But not many places that are famous.

One thing that is famous is...well, there are two. One is the Zebra Room and one is the Reflecting Pool. And they are connected.

Rep. Wilbur Mills was a conservative Democrat from Texas. First elected to Congress in 1939 in the second great Rooseveltian sweep, he had risen to be chairman of the House Ways & Means committee by the late 1950s. Prior to 1974, when the Congress substantially restructured the way it works, committees like Ways & Means held all the power. Ways & Means, especially, had power -- because the House rules say that any bill which requires spending has to go through it. Mills had (as committee chairmen do today) the power to table a bill, refuse to hold hearings on a bill, refuse to hold votes on a bill, etc. And no one could force him to do otherwise (unlike today).

For decades, Mills had refused to entertain a Medicare bill (health care for the elderly), considering it "socialized medicine." After Lyndon Johnson's landslide in 1964, however, Mills "saw the light" (e.g., realized he had better change his position or risk losing his seat). So he not only got Medicare passed, he got Medicaid (health care for the poor) passed as well.

But Mills was also a lush. In the days before Watergate, reporting on a member of Congress' life was considered a big no-no. Mills used to drink at the Zebra Room -- a bar with a black-and-white awning that is near the National Cathedral. (It is on the same side of the street but across the street from Cactus Cantina.) He would then drive drunkenly all over town in his limousine, forcing his terrified driver to huddle in the back seat.

Mills was also a lecher and womanizer. In 1973, he hired Fanne (Fanny) Foxe, a stripper, as a secretary and put her on his Congressional payroll. Foxe was known as the "Argentine Firecracker" for her Argentinian citizenry, flaming red hair and her strip-tease act (Foxe would tie firecrackers to her pasties and swing her breasts so that the firecrackers whirled in a big circle and exploded). (Later, the Washington Post would coin the phrase "the secretary who couldn't type" to describe Foxe.)

In 1974, Mills and Foxe were driving near Capitol Hill. Now, Capitol Police had caught Mills driving under the influence (indeed, nearly blind-drunk!) many times. But since Mills held the purse strings for the Capitol Police, the cops usually sent him on his way or helped him home.

This time, however, Mills and Foxe had an argument in Mills' limo. Foxe scratched at Mills' eyes, bloodying his face. Mills lost control of the car and ran his limo into the Reflecting Pool in front of the U.S. Capitol. The Capitol Police quickly rushed to the scene. Mills, confrontational, stormed out of his vehicle to bluster at the cops. The police were about to leave when they saw someone struggling inside the car. Worried that someone was injured, the police were forced to call for an ambulance and back-up.

Foxe was in the car. Terrified she would be arrested, she leapt -- naked -- out the driver's-side door of the car and into the Reflecting Pool.

There, Fanne Foxe began to "swim for it." Drunkenly, Foxe tried vainly to swim across the 3-foot-deep Reflecting Pool. The police chuckled at the huge-breasted redhead, flailing in the water while Mills attempted to explain her presence in his vehicle. Laughing, the police waded into the Reflecting Pool and arrested Foxe.

It was the end of Wilbur Mills' career. He retired in 1976.

When I was in graduate school, I lived (for at time) on Idaho Avenue N.W. That was only four blocks from the Zebra Room.

I wonder if Fanne Foxe is still alive. She's rumored to be in Argentina.

Bernard Punsly, the last of the "Dead End Kids," died today. He was 80. Punsly starred in about 10 Dead End Kids movies. He joined the U.S. Marines, fought in World War II, and then became a doctor. He resided in Los Angeles.

I don't know if you've ever seen a Dead End Kids movie. I've seen three. The trajectory of the series is very interesting. The first film is considered a classic film noir. Humphrey Bogart plays a gangster on the lam from the police for mudering a cop. So he returns to Hell's Kitchen and hides out. The Dead End kids idolize him. Meanwhile, the older sister of actor Billy Halop (one of the Kids; his character's name is "Hunk") is dating a tough who is trying to decide between law and order. The Kids meet a rich boy whose father lives in a high-security mansion on the edge of Hell's Kitchen. The rich boy tries to brown-nose his way into the Dead End Kids gang. The Kids physically and emotionally humiliate him. The movie leaves you with the strong implication that they sexually abused or even raped him. When the rich father catches Halop, actor Leo Gorcey (the titular leader of the Dead End Kids; his character's name is "Spit") slashes the old man's hand with a pen-knife. Now Hell's Kitchen floods with cops, searching for both Halop and Gorcey. (Sounds like any number of "cops chase the poor black kid mercilessly" movies from the '90s or '00's, doesn't it?) While Halop's older sister weeps bitter tears over her brother's innocence, her boyfriend begins to suspect that Bogie has been a bad influence on the Kids (he has; they idolize him). He pursues Bogie. The cops close in on everyone. Soon, Halop is cornered. But just then, a cop stumbles on Bogart, and Bogie shoots him dead. In the ensuing riot, Bogart is killed by the cops, the cops decide not to go after Halop (who turns to the side of good), Gorcey realizes his idol was a coward (but he doesn't turn to the side of good, though), and the older sister and her beau get married.

Had the film been made today, it would be full of horrors. In a way, it's got a creepy feel to it anyhow.

And the weirder thing is that Halop, Punsly and Gorcey were clearly in their late teens. (Gorcey was 21 when he made the fird Kids movie; Halop was 18, Punsly 15, Bobby Jordan was 16 and Huntz Hall was 19.) Yet, we are openly told that Halop and Punsly (the oldest boys in the Kids) are only 13. Well, for 13, they certainly had hairy legs, muscular bodies and hairy armpits. It is a very weird disconnect. There is a pivotal scene where the Kids go swimming (it is where the cop catches Halop). They are show nearly naked several times. In other shots in the same scene, the Kids are shown in wet, clinging underwear. Their adult genitals are blatantly on display. It is a charged atmosphere of homoeroticism. Since every single other film would have shaved the kids' bodies in order to make them younger-looking, it is disconcerting to realize that this disconnect is exactly the sensation the filmmaker was aiming at. It is very clear that this film wanted to portray the Dead End Kids as a homosexual gang. But not just any gang of perverts; these were boys who had turned to boy-love because society had rejected them. Their love wasn't pansy-love, the way it would be for an adult. It was "natural," because of their fallen nature. That it turns destructive (the rape of the rich boy is all but shown) is not really their fault, but the fault of the society that permits such violent poverty. This fits with the overall theme of "Dead End" (society is to blame). And I, for one, am amazed that the film's homosexual overtones are not mentioned more often.

The Kids' second film, "Angels With Dirty Faces (1938)", featured Jimmy Cagney and Humphrey Bogart as contending gangsters. Cagney is confronted by his brother, Pat O'Brien, who has become a priest. The Kids feature in the film only as groupies for Cagney and Bogie.

In 1939 came "They Made Me A Criminal," a John Garfield thriller in which Garfield plays a boxer who believes he has committed murder while drunk. He flees to a farm, the Kids in tow. (Weird.) A good melodrama, it foreshadows "I Am A Fugitive From A Chain-Gang." Again, a subtle homoeroticism creeps in. Both Gorcey and Halop routinely caress Garfield's body, and his on-screen reaction is receptive (almost sexually aroused). It seems, though, that he favors the more adult Punsly, but Punsly's performance is completely innocent. (Had Garfield's on-screen girlfriend not been around and had this been the '00s, one suspects Garfield would have had sex with one of these more-than-willing Dead End Kids. Maybe both of them.)

The same year saw "Hell's Kitchen." Gorcey plays a tough who has been sent to reform school, where he meets the other Dead End Kids. While there are some homosexual overtones, they're rather muted. The plot is that Gorcey's brother, a paroled gangster, makes a contribution to the reform school so his kid brother won't have to shiver in the cold (the school can't afford coal) or eat gruel (it can't afford better food). But the warden is crooked; he's embezzling from the school, which is why conditions are so bad. After the gangster's donation, conditions improve somewhat. But soon the warden gets greedy, and things get even worse than before. When Kid Bobby Jordan (who bears a striking resemblance to Joseph Gordon-Levitt) dies in solitary confinement (the homophobic warden, sensing something "wrong" in Jordan, throws him in the cooler), the Kids revolt and throw the warden into solitary to die. Only the intervention of "good warden" Ronald Reagan (no shit) saves him. The Kids are paroled.

The turning point for the Kids came at the end of 1939 with "The Angels Wash Their Faces." Ronald Reagan again stars. This time, he's a petty thief on probation. He meets Ann Sheridan, and they fall in love. But soon he is framed for arson and murder by the head of a Hell's Kitchen gang. With the help of the Kids, he clears himself. The problem with the film is that the Dead End Kids are portrayed as sweet little angels who are involved in only a little hanky-panky. They are always on the side of good. They aren't bad kids, they're just a bit too rowdy for the button-down neighborhood they live in. Ugh.

From here on out, the Dead End Kids (and their other incarnations, the East Side Kids and the Bowery Boys; 66 films would be made between 1939 and 1956) were seen in gentle comedies. (FYI, by 1956, Gorcey was still playing a 21-year-old -- even though he was 38!)

It's too bad. The Dead End Kids were a foil for the great social ills of the great urban cities in the 1930s. Lillian Hellman had written "Dead End" and the great director William Wyler had helmed the picture. Turning the Dead End Kids into a joke was a disaster. What had been a unique, disturbing social commentary was now defanged. Society need not be troubled by poverty any more; we just swept it under the rug.

Too bad.

232: Number of American combat deaths in Iraq between May 2003 and January 2004.
501: Number of American servicemen to die in Iraq from the beginning of the war -- so far.
9.2: Average number of American soldiers wounded in Iraq each day since the invasion in March last year.
1.6: Average number of American soldiers killed in Iraq per day since hostilities began.
0: Number of American combat deaths in Germany after the Nazi surrender to the Allies in May 1945
0: Number of coffins of dead soldiers returning home from Iraq that the Bush administration has allowed to be photographed.
0: Number of funerals or memorials that President Bush has attended for soldiers killed in Iraq.
29,000: Number of American troops -- which is close to the total of a whole army division -- to have either been killed, wounded, injured or become so ill as to require evacuation from Iraq, according to the Pentagon.

100: Number of fund-raisers attended by Bush or Vice-President Dick Cheney in 2003.

10 million: Estimated number of people worldwide who took to the streets in opposition to the invasion of Iraq, setting an all-time record for simultaneous protest.

2: Number of nations that Bush has attacked and taken over since coming into the White House.

$100 billion: Estimated cost of the war in Iraq to American citizens by the end of 2003.

$13 billion: Amount other countries have committed towards rebuilding Iraq (much of it in loans) as of 24 October.

36%: Increase in the number of desertions from the US army since 1999.

1983: The year in which Donald Rumsfeld gave Saddam Hussein a pair of golden spurs.

10: Number of solo press conferences that Bush has held since beginning his term. His father had managed 61 at this point in his administration, and Bill Clinton 33.

28: Number of days holiday that Bush took last August, the second longest holiday of any president in US history. (Recordholder: Richard Nixon.)

13: Number of vacation days the average American worker receives each year

2.4 million: Number of Americans who have lost their jobs during the three years of the Bush administration

221,000: Number of jobs per month created since Bush's tax cuts took effect. He promised the measure would add 306,000.

1,000: Number of new jobs created in the entire country in December. Analysts had expected a gain of 130,000.

1st: This administration is on its way to becoming the first since 1929 (Herbert Hoover) to preside over an overall loss of jobs during its complete term in office

9 million: Number of US workers unemployed in September 2003

88%: Percentage of American citizens who will save less than $100 on their 2006 federal taxes as a result of 2003 cut in capital gains and dividends taxes.

$42,000: Average savings members of Bush's cabinet are expected to enjoy this year as a result in the cuts in capital gains and dividends taxes.

$42,228: Median household income in the US in 2001.

1st: George W Bush became the first American president to ignore the Geneva Conventions by refusing to allow inspectors access to US-held prisoners of war.

+6%: Percentage change since 2001 in the number of US families in poverty.

9: Number of members of Bush's defense policy board who also sit on the corporate board of, or advise, at least one defense contractor.

$300 million: Amount cut from the federal programme that provides subsidies to poor families so they can heat their homes.

$1 billion: Amount of new US military aid promised Israel in April 2003 to offset the "burdens" of the US war on Iraq.

58 million: Number of acres of public lands Bush has opened to road building, logging and drilling.

200: Number of public-health and environmental laws Bush has attempted to downgrade or weaken.

A veritable plethora of photography books featuring the male nude are coming out in the next 10 months:



----> Erwin Olaf, "Erwin Olaf: Silver" -- The famed Dutch gay photographer who has worked for SmithKline Glaxo, Diesel and Microsoft as well as marketed his own La Chappelle-like porn publishes his latest work, which includes "Fashion Victims." 256 pages, b&w and color. Ludion Press.

----> Tony Butcher, "Studies in Black" -- This is the award-winning British photographer's first book of black male nudes. 100 pages, b&w and color. Self-published.

----> "Homosexual Men in Action, 1890-1930 (Erotic Art Photography, Volume 8)" -- A collection of photographs from 1890-1930, showing men having sex with men. A study of the earliest gay porn! 64 pages, b&w. Janssen.

----> Konrad Helbig, "Homo Sum" -- The famous German photographer, who was a protege of von Gloeden, died in 1986. But his previous collection, "Ragazzi" (which showcased the boys of Sicily), was a huge hit. Now comes "Homo Sum," which casts a wider net and focuses on adults -- one-third of the models are black. 108 pages, b&w. Not sure of the publisher.

----> Harald Seiwert, "Cumrades" -- created images of male erotic photographic art featuring semen. 100 pages, color. Janssen.

----> Jim Jager, "Mr. Long" -- More fantastic black models from Third World Studio. 100 pages, b&w and color. Janssen.

----> Harriet Leibowitz, "The Male Nude of the 21st Century" -- The best male nude models from the world-renowned photographer. Pretty expensive at $80, and I'm not so sure she's my style. 100 pages, b&w and color. Janssen.

----> Norman Hatton, "Man-Ipulation" -- More wacko images of penises from Norman Hatton. 120 pages, b&w. Janssen.

----> David Chapman, "Victor Victorians" -- An edited volume from the early years of International Physique Photography magazine. 100 pages, b&w. Janssen.

----> Leonard Zett, "The African Male Nude, Vol. 1" -- Zett's previous work has focused on weird repetitions of penises, testicles and anuses. Now he's showcasing straight-up nudes for once. The first in a three-volume series, it's said. 100 pages, b&w and color. Janssen.

----> Hal Roth, "Black Workout" -- The very best African American porn-star models from Hal Roth, director of the legendary FILMCO video productions. 120 pages, b&w. Janssen.

----> Dick Sweet, "Dick Sweet Men" -- Photographs from the collection of the photographer. 120 pages, b&w and color. Janssen.

Labels: Wilhelm von Gloeden

Now for Chris, the fourth model in Adu's "5SM." Chris could be Kyle's younger brother. He has the same arching eyebrows, the same heavy musculature, the same squishy nose, the same petulant, full lips, and the same nearly-hairless body. His nipples are large and soft, where Kyle's are small and erect. His hair is long and parted like Kyle's. Chris is from ChangHua, a city in central Taiwan a few miles inland from the western coast. Chris is 23 and just over 5'9" (176cm). Chris has the smallest cock and balls of the models in this book. His pubes are thin and wispy, and gather tightly above his genitals. (By the way, don't be fooled. Chris is on the cover and the back flyleaf. Only, he has cut his hair for these other photos so that it is short and spiky.)

Chris, a judo instructor, is paired with fire.

This, by far, is the most stylistically interesting set of photographs in the book, and clearly the most technically challenging. All of the photographs are taken at dusk on a peninsula overlooking an inlet and a small city.

What can I say about these photographs? Some of them are not very good at all. Others completely blow me away. Completely.

I've always considered it far more difficult to photograph a man with a small cock and balls than it is to shoot a man with large genitalia. The reason really lies in geography: there's not much to shoot. Small, tight testes don't flop around, and cannot be placed between the legs or on the thight. They are what they are, and they will stay where they are. A small penis tends to retract into the body when the man is sitting, whereas a large one stays fully distended from the body and can be laid between the legs, on the thigh, across the hip, in the pubes or directly up the belly. (And I know what I'm talking about. I'm not hung at all. I know my own body, and I know how a model with a small cock and balls is going to photograph -- because I look down between my own legs, and can see the results.)

Yet, Chris has the most muscular yet soft body of the models in this book. It is the sort of body that is so muscular and fat-free that a viewer thinks "Greek god -- and unattainable." There is enough softness and body fat to Chris' torso, legs and pectorals that he appears approachable. Chris' pectorals aren't the massive round melons of a bodybuilder; they are more squared-off, lending a breadth to his shoulders and body that makes his compact form enticingly different. His abdomen isn't so washboard taut that the viewer thinks, "He would only desire another bodybuilder." Instead, there is just the hint of ripples in his belly, with enough baby fat and softness in the ribs that the viewer wants to reach out and touch him, hold him -- and know that his ribs won't hurt you.

Thus, it's the photographer's challenge to showcase Chris' stunning body and face, while not being able to depend on the "old reliable" of showcasing his genitalia.

Adu does this wonderfully.

Once more, Adu opens the photo-set with a close-up of Chris' delicate, handsome face. The lighting is superb. The forground lighting highlights Chris' chest, face and skin while the soft-focus background clouds and skyline provide counterpoint to the darkness between the model and the horizon. The full lips, the narrow eyes (what is he focusing on, off in the distance to our right?), the strong and straight nose, the forward-leaning torso -- as if he's opened a door and is letting us in, as if he's going to turn our way and gives that wonderful, sweet, welcoming smile we long for.

The second photograph is just as impressive. A medium distant shot of Chris, standing against a magnificent sky filled with the setting sun. Rosy reds, glowing yellows, warm pinks, royal purples -- these are the colors of the sky that fills two-thirds of the photograph. In front is Chris, arms linked behind his back, chin up slightly, body turned ever so slightly away from us so that the failing light catches, highlights and illuminates his stunning pecs, his tight abs, the long line of his legs, the veins in his bicep. And there, nestled in the dark, are the tight, small bush of his pubes, his uncircumsized cock (with the large, pink knob extended from the foreskin)...and just barely visible, his tight, small balls. It is a picture of a man who wants us to walk with him into the sunset. A man who isn't haughty or distant, but a man inviting us along. It is a superb photograph.

The set loses some of this magical quality however. The next two photographs show Chris flexing in front of the city skyline. The sky is robin's egg blue. And while the quality of light on Chris' body is still dusky, these images lack the awe-inspiring quality of the previous two. The first photograph, which shows the model from the front, showcases Chris' magnificent body -- particularly his genitals. The second shows Chris from the back, buttocks tightly clenched, arms over his head, biceps flexed. These are photos of a bodybuilder who is posing, of a man knowing he is being photographed, of a man who is emotionally distant from us. The subsequent two photographs show Chris in motion -- Chris from behind, giving a spinning kick, looking over his shoulder in mid-air as he is about to throw his leg our way. The other photograph show Chris spread-eagled in mid-air, grinning, his tiny penis and balls dangling nakedly (in the negative sense of the word) between his outstretched legs. The next photograph shows a quiet Chris, eyes closed, posing again. This time, the sunlight is almost gone. The quality of the image is rather poor. Chris holds a red blanket about his shoulders and clasps the ends tight near his cock, as if he is going to cover himself. But again, the photo lacks the approachable quality of the first two in this series. This, again, is a man posing. It is a man knowing his is being photographed. This is a man without emotion, who knows that the sole reason for his being there is to be photographed and drooled over. The last of these mediocre photographs shows Chris silhouetted against the darkening sky, his face only faintly visible as he looks right.

And then the wonder returns.

The remainder of the photographs are all night shots. Chris is depicted seated, a light shining up into his chest and neck, his hand partially covering his face as if he were caught in a tired moment, a moment when he tried to brush the exhaustion from his eyes. His pectorals are just barely illuminated, forcing the eye to drop down and try to gather as much detail as it can. And then the eye drops futher, realizing that, there in the dark, are his pubes, penis and testicles. In the background, the multi-colored lights of the city skyline remain as unfocused dots of light.

There are some clunkers here. One photograph depicts Chris with the red blanket again, wielding it like a cape as if he were Superman -- about to take flight. The lighting is uninspired, almost poor. There is little highlighting of the model's magnificent body. With 80% of the man's body in semi-shadow, the eye doesn't rove. It takes it all in at once, and then is bored with the static, posed-ness of the shot. Another photograph shows Chris face-down, pretending to sleep on a blanket-covered low concrete wall with the skyline in the distance. The shot is posed and preditable. Yet another shows Chris seated before this same low wall, legs splayed, leaning on one arm, the fingers of the other arm caressing his chin in faux pensiveness. This is the same offensive pose that hacks like Tom Bianchi, Herb Ritts and Stpehen Underhill ask their brain-dead meatbags to use.

But sometimes the camera catches magic. Such as the photograph of Chris reclining in front of the wall. It is a classic Greek pose: legs extended to the right, right arm stiff and locked, torso leaning backward, face looking to his own right and off-camera, one arm up on the low wall. But Chris' face is flooded with yellow light in this image, drawing us to his good looks -- those thoughtful eyes (always narrow, always focused on something), that large nose, the large and puffy lips. His body is cast in red, light reflected off the red blanket he's laying on. The eye is draw down to this red-light district -- the naked body of the model. The eye follows the square line of his pecs back and forth across the upper body, then down the center, flexed area of his abdomen, down to his small cock and balls nestled like jewels between his open legs, then up the curve of his left leg to his knee, then down again to the foot and toes -- pointed right, like a ballet dancers. This is undoubtedly posed. But there is movement here, as if the model were caught in the act of reclining rather than having held the pose for a half-hour already. And then the eye moves up -- to the dark and the city lights beyond. That's where the real world is. But here, in my own personal red-light district, is a man of heaven.

Then there are the two photos of Chris holding sparklers. These are pure genius. Chris' face is brightly illuminated by an external light. His body, however, is lit only by the sparkler in his hand. The sparklers are thrust forward toward the camera. But the foreground sparks remain unfocused; the camer holds Chris' face in sharp detail. In one photo, Chris' face is partly turned away from the sparklers, flinching subtly. It adds an air of vulnerability to the image.

There are eight bonfire pictures which conclude the series.

The first is of a pensive Chris, shot in profile with the bonfire in the background. Only his shoulders and biceps are in the image. Sweat glistens on his skin. The moment is intimate and unposed. The viewer feels like he should sit down and put his arms around the model.

The second photograph in the bonfire series show Chris bent forward, naked, putting a stick into the fire. Everything except for the model's genitals is out of focus. The intent of the image is to draw the eye to the crotch, but in fact the eye is drawn to the out-of-focus bonfire (the most powerful light source in the photo) and to Chris' face (which is thrust forward toward the fire, and thus brightly lit).

Three small photographs show Chris dancing around the bonfire. In one, his cock flies upward in the air. In the other two, he is kicking into the air and his thigh blocks our view of his cock and balls. In a fourth photo, Chrisis shown bent over, ready to drop a stick into the fire. It is a very candid, unposed shot. Again, Chris' genitals are in clear focus while the rest of the image is not. He's beautiful between his legs. But again, it is the bonfire, the stick and the brightly-lit face which attract our attention.

The last two images in this photo-set are nice, too. In one, a blood-red Chris stands naked in front of the bonfire (which is to his right), holding a stick across his shoulders like a yoke. Standing on tiptoe, he looks suspiciously at the viewer. His body is covered in a light sheen of sweat. It is an oddly tense, posed photograph. But it is inviting. His genitals are on full display. His chest is thrust upward and forward. His biceps are tight and bunched. His thighs are clenched, his calves straining. There is a subtle air of explosiveness.

But the last photograph is the best. The bonfire, now in the foreground is down to coals and embers. A camera light shines on Chris' sweat-soaked body. Water drips off him in rivulets. His belly is soaking, his pubes matted down. It is yet another candid moment. Chris is prodding something on the ground with the toe of his right foot. He looks downward. His body is in a natural position, his abs taut, his balance off, his pecs bunched in anticipation of....something. The natural light of the flash reveals his own lightly tan skin (rather than the blood-red illumination of the fire and the camera filters we've seen in most of the bonfire photographs).

It's the moment when you know he is going to turn around and head into the dark, looking for a place to sleep. The moment when you can follow him, climb in next to him, feel his sweat against your skin, hold him, feel him coiled tightly beside you, and then feel him turn to face you and begin to make love to you.

I wish there had been more like this.

Now let's take a look at Kevin, the third photoset in Adu's "5SM." kevin is a 28-year-old lifeguard from Taipei, on the northern tip of Taiwan. He's the shortest of the bunch -- 174cm (or 5'8"). He's slender and lithe, with crewcut hair. His features are what most Americans might call "typically Asian" -- flat cheekbones, distinctively almond-shaped eyes, perfectly proportioned. His penis is short, slender and very dark, with a bright pink knob. His legs are hairy, and his pubes form a V-shape over his cock. His skin is rather a bit dark, due to his tan-line. Kevin, rather pedestrianly, is paired with water.

Strangely, Kevin's photo set is the best in the bunch.

Now there is a real choice to be made here. "Water" can mean anything -- hot tub, waterfalls, waterfall and pool, river or stream, lake, ocean, rocky shoreline, beach. The choices made here will be very important in capturing the essence of the model's personality and in conveying the emotion, thoughts and ideals that the photographer wishes to project. Additionally, some models just seem to be more the "beach bunny" type, while others are more the "mountain river" type.

One of the interesting things about this series is that they are the most variable. Kevin is depicted in close-up, medium close-up, medium shot, distant shot, and far-distant shot. The settings, too, are varied -- waterfall, beach rocks, pool. In some ways, Kevin is the least distinctive of the models Adu shot for this book. He is one handsome man, don't get me wrong. But he isn't particularly muscular or skinny; isn't particularly handsome or ugly; isn't particularly hairy or smooth. there is something to be said for the "boy next door look"; gay porn star Sean Hunter had it, and it made him a superstar. (To this day, his image crops up in all sorts of advertising -- even though he hasn't made a film in 12 years.) Yet, Kevin's seeming averageness works against the backgrounds Adu selects for him. You wouldn't want to eat a cup of sugar with your candy bar; similarly, a photographer has to be careful not to put a superb male model amongst jewels or a too-lush setting. Perhaps this is why Kevin's photographs work so well.

Something else also became apparent to me while perusing Kevin's photo-set. That is that Adu always opens the photo-set with a close-up of his model's face. The second shot is a medium shot, and then Adu permits us to see the "real" series of images. Is this a trick? One rule of photography is that a close-up of the human face creates a sense of intimacy and emotional closeness. In every photo-set, Adu seems to want to draw the audience in emotionally, to sympathize with and love (?) the model. In some ways, it's a bit of a set-up. It's a cheap trick, designed to make us more receptive to the photographs that come later. I wonder if it was deliberate?

I'm far more certain that splashing water onto Kevin's skin and face, letting it bead up and represent his elemental attractive to water, was deliberate. It's not a bad trick, and I'm not complaining. Indeed, in the very first photography, it serves to highlight Kevin's eyebrows, hair and skin. The eye is draw to to his long sideburns and the long muscle of his shoulder and bicep. The beds of water on his dark skin stand out like white-clear crystal. It's an interesting effect, and makes Kevin's averageness seem less so. In the second photo in the series, only Kevin's face seems to be in focus. His torso does not. And yet, the water droplets on his chest, arms and belly seem to be focused and clear. It's a trick of the eye, but the effect is to draw the eye away from Kevin's face (which is in the same contemplative semi-scowl that it is in the first photo) and around the photograph.

The seven photographs which form the heart of the series are fairly functional and mundane. Only the first two have interesting elements. In the first, Kevin appears to be standing on rocks, his face turned away from us, his head resting on his arms (which are crossed). But look more closely: Kevin is, in fact, laying on his side. It's a bit startling to notice, much as trompe l'oeil paintings fool the eye as well. The rocks and water around Kevin are dark -- black and grey. They highlight his beautiful, smooth dark skin. This is one instance where color saturation is used very effectively. You can't take your eyes off this man's body. The vast expanse of brown skin is uniform, without hair or shadow to distact the viewer. The eye roams over the body, noticing curvature in the legs, the buttocks, the back, the shoulderblades. Details, however subtle, become more important. The viewer is forced to linger on the model's body. As the eye rushes past Kyle's body and photographs, so the eye lingers on "average Kevin." That's an interesting counterpoint.

But once the eye has taken in the beauty and sensuality of Kevin's body, the eye is distracted. The viewer focuses on his feet, where water eases up the calf. The eye is drawn to the refractions in the water in the upper right of the photograph, where brilliant purples and bright greys mingle. Subtle color variations in the rocks and water begin to be apparent. The viewer almost has to ignore the model. And what a new frame of reference we are now in: "Average" Kevin, who we would not normally look at, is now the center of attention in this photo. And we have to drag our eyes off him in order to notice the background around him. Whereas before, we could ignore "average Kevin," not we can barely take our eyes off him.

The second photograph works in a similar way, but less effectively. Kevin is posed rather facilely, laying back on his elbows in a pool of water. The classical Greek pose is boring. Again, Kevin's color-saturated, warm-brown body draws the eye. But Kevin is less than a quarter of the image. A vast expanse of greenish-grey water and submerged rocks draws the eye instead. The ripples in the water and the shape of the rocks, draws the eye down to the lower border of the image, away from the model.

Now we are in counterpoint again. Whereas the first photograph forced us to acknowledge "average Kevin," the second photograph purposefully de-emphasizes Kevin. We are still drawn to him, as the eye is drawn to the only splash of warm color in the image. But our eye quickly moves away from him. He is not average again, but we no longer focus on him the way we had before.

The next five photographs are not really very notable at all. The sweet intricacies of the first two photos is completely lacking here. A large image of Kevin, spread in the middle of a stream, laying on a large rock in a Christ-like pose, is worth mentioning only becuase his nearly-erect penis is on display. (The viewer will almost miss it. But look closelyl: His knob has fully extended from beneath that beautiful dark foreskin, and his penis has lifted off his thigh and is suspended in the air. Are the beads of water on Kevin's belly representative of semen? Perhaps.)

The next photograph is a medium-close-up of Kevin's body, with little in the way of background at all. Indeed, one has to wonder if this photograph wasn't simply screwed up. Half of one of Kevin's eyes is visible. This is just bad cropping. (Again, however, pay attention to the model's penis. It's lifting out of the water, the foreskin retracted.) The following photograph is a small one, showing Kevin lying face-down on a rock, half-submerged. The horizontal line of the model's body is repeated below with the horizontal, spreading line of the rock. The sixth and seventh photographs are standard images of the model, submerged to the line of his pubic hair in water. One shows him from the rear, one from the front (his hands locked behind his head). The only reason to pay any attention is that the sixth image contains a really good profile shot of Kevin's face, showing how handsome he is.

A series of four photographs follows, each of them depicting the model against a rocky waterfall. What is interesting here is the study of line and how line conveys emotion. In the first image, the water falls almost directly downward toward the bottom of the image. The model, meanwhile, is ramrod upright, his face and jaw thrust forward. It is not a defiant or angry look (the gentle parting of the lips and the lack of scowl in the eyes and brows indicate thoughtfulness instead). The entire image conveys a sense of strength, of power. How odd, then, that the most boyish and lithe of the models, completely lacking in masuculature, is the one shown to have the most power here. In the second photograph, the waterfall moves gradually from upper-right to lower-left. The model, too, is similarly aligned, leaning forward into the water at the same angle. There is an odd combination of movement here, an illusion created by the model's bent knee and the angle at which he leans into the rocks and water. The idea is one of movement, almost of slipping forward and then down the rock face. But the strong, solid planting of the feet on the rocks and the one arm, thrust into the water and gripping tight, conveys the image of solidity, of firmness. The eye is subsequently drawn to the model's beautiful, semi-circular buttocks. Normally seen as a sign of weakeness and sexual receptivity, here, the model's entryway is portrayed as a sign of strength, of power. This is the fulcrum point on the model's body; here is the point where his strength lies. What a fascinating idea, that what is normally considered weakness is now a point of strength.

The two subsequent waterfall images are less powerful. One is a distant shot of the model, arms and legs akimbo, penis semi-erect, reclining on the rocks while the waterfall dominates the upper half and left two-thirds of the image. The rusty reds of the waterfall draw the eye away from the models' dark skin. One is left only occasionally flicking the eyes toward the model's dark hair (and sometimes to the slight patch of black pubes surmounting his genitals). The way the waterfall provides a backdrop to the model almost seems to surround and submerge the model, hiding him.

The other photograph shows the model crouching on rocks while the waterfall cascades behind him. The photo is odd in the way it conveys tension, something this model has not shown and which doesn't seem to fit with the concept of water (which flows where it will).

Two photos follow of the model against a near-black shadow. The first incongruously shows the model relaxing under a drainage spout. The manmade stream of solid water is very different from the natural splashes and waves we've seen before. (This is, however, the only photograph which clearly displays the model's genitals in close-up. Indeed, the way the water splashes over the model's body, the penis is the only part of his body not covered in water.) The second photograph shows the model laying on rocks while a dark waterfall courses behind him. It is notable for the dragonfly on the model's knee -- an almost surreal touch.

The next two photographs show the model lurking beneath the shadows of palm tree fronds. The water element is almost missing from these two photos; rock -- massive, sheer, grey-sandy rock -- is the main element. The former pose has the model sitting, his thight propped up to hide his genitalia. The other shows the model from behind, crouching, his face turned back toward us. This latter photo is not color-saturated, making the model's skin look washed-out and pallid.

But the final three photographs in Kevin's photo-set show the model in a canyon-like tidal pool. Large limestone rocks jut up, 10 feet tall, on either side of the pool. The pool itself is green and blue and purple, thigh-deep. A broad expanse of blue sky can be seen in the background. The image is grotto-like. The first photograph shows the model crouched on a rock, almost in the background and to the far left of the image. The sense is one of waiting, of wariness, almost like that of an animal which has come out of the sea but needs to sense the air before making sure all is clear. The calm, rippled, only lightly-disturbed water of the tidal pool provides the calm counterpoint to the model's tensionless crouch.

The second photograph is shot from almost the same perspective. Now the model is calf-deep in water in the foreground, his back to us. His face is upturned, his arms askew, his chest thrust upward. It is almost a worshipful pose. This photograph does a terrific job of using light and shadow. The light displays only a sliver of thigh and calf, but it serves to highlight the power and muscule of this lithe swimmer's build. Although the model's buttocks are in shadow, the light, untanned skin of each globe fairly glows in the dark. The light on the model's left arm draws the eye up the model's handsome profile and jet-black, glistening hair. Finally, the curve of Kevin's upthrust pecs is barely visible, almost breast-like but muscular and firm. This is no boy. This is a man. How deceptive every image has been until now! It's a powerful, arousing image.

The final image takes us back to reality. It is again almost the same shot. Now Kevin has turned toward us, laying backward against the rock in a Christ-like pose. Has he been slain by desire? Slain by worship, caught up in communion with god? Perhaps. His half-erect penis surely demands worship. The eye lingers on the man's dark brown skin, but then slowly moves up the image toward the blue sky above....and out of the image.

Now let's look at Kyle, the second photoset in Adu's "5SM." Kyle is a 25-year-old martial arts instructor from TaoYuan, on the coast of northwest Taiwan. He's a bit shorter than Mario (177cm or 5'9"), but more muscular and compact. He's got long, parted hair, a large squishy nose, high, prominent cheekbones, a bright smile and a much more muscular and broader body than Mario. His penis is much dark and somewhat thicker than Mario's, but about the same size. His pubes are less bushy, less thick, and have a downward-hanging direction to them. His testicles are not as large as Mario's, nor do they hang as low. He is uncut, and his penis has a tendency to become semi-erect during the shoot (his knob often projects redly from his foreskin). His arms and belly also show signs of vascularity (veins). Kyle is paired with wood.

Except for one incredible close-up photograph (the first in the set), Kyle is depicted only in medium and far shots. That in itself is a surprising choice, for most photographers would have chosen to highlight (with close-ups) various aspects of a body this magnificently proportioned, muscled and smooth. Kyle's skin is like silk -- amazingly smooth and flawless. The net effect of the photos is to put this magnificent, handsome man on a pedestal, to remove him emotionally from us.

Many of the photographs are structured to that effect as well. About a quarter of the photos, notably those in the beginning of the set, depict Kyle shrounded in deep, dark shadow or with the shadow of bamboo stalks racing across his body. The boy has a light sheen of sweat across his torso, as if he were sweating from something (arousal? not exertion... just the heart? but his nipples are so erect, it seems unlikely it's just heat, and besides, the net effect of the leafless trees indicates a cooler season). The spiky, denuded tree branches that form the background to these shots further indicates an emotional sharpness, coldness and coolness. The color palette is less saturdated here, with broad swaths of tan skin, low green leaves, neutral dark-brown tree limbs and royal blue sky. The connection to "wood" is almost lacking here. There aren't strong trees here, but small branches. The overall impression is of having to scrape past these spiky, grasping branches rather than one of strength, power, suppleness and age.

There is a rather obvious shift in the photography in the middle set of photos. Several of the photos form a narrative -- long distance, distant, and medium shot combine to bring Kyle close to the viewer as he walks across a meadow of knee-high green weeds.

The best photo (other than the face close-up) in this series is Kyle deep in a bamboo grove, powerfully reaching upward to bend a long bamboo tree over. It is a classic pose from Greco-Roman art: the right arm up, the left arm bent and near mid-torso, the eyes looking upward, the left leg bent and placed forward, the right leg back and on tiptoe. It is an image of grace and power, of suppleness and rigidity, of intent and tension. It showcases Kyle's powerful, stunning body in the best way possible. The tight, flexed muscles of his belly, shoulders and back draw the eye to them. The dark, flowing hair of the head frames his clenched jaw, purposeful eyes and strong neck while the thick patches of hair in the armpit and the barely visible, protruding patch of pubic hair indicate his hidden (if insistent; it cannot be denied!) masculinity and sexuality.

A subsequent series of small photos taken at very long distance show Kyle posing in the middle of the bamboo. As a series of photos depicting rhythm, repetition, and geometric pattern, they are rather nice. But Kyle is lost in them -- a smudge of brown amid the sea of waving green.

Five rather dull shots of Kyle posing -- arms akimbo, face upturned -- in a stand of leafy adult bamboo comprise the center of the set. They showcase Kyle's chest, arms, belly and genitals very well (and there is one rather arousing shot of his muscular buttocks). But these five photographs lack emotional content.

The series of photographs sort of stumbles to a conclusion. There are two medium-close shots of Kyle in shadow. One shows him almost snarling at the camera, as if caught while stripping leaves off a young bamboo tree. Another shows him laying backward while deep, impenetrable shadows cover his genitals. There are then two medium shots of Kyle standing next to an adult tree -- one in a classical post, face staring to the left. The other is more intriguing. Kyle is smiling, almost smirking, as he stands next to the tree, arms languourously resting over his head against its small trunk. His magnificent buttocks and thick, trunk-like thighs are on close display here -- the obvious intent and fixation of the photographer. But both of these shots are rather misty and lack the deep color saturation of the previous photographs. They seem to have been shot without a haze filter, over-exposed and too-bright. The power of these shots seems to have been drained away.

The last two images incongruously show Kyle sleeping in a wooden chair. One is a distant shot, the other a medium shot. Neither is well composed. The shadows of the branches overhead conceal more of his body than they highlight, showcase or reveal. In both images, Kyle's face is slightly scrunched in consternation.

Overall, these photos -- which feature the best model in Adu's group (IMHO) -- seem rather purposeless. Partly this is due to the setting. There is nothing which indicates fertility, growth or lushness in these images. The overall effect is, rather, one of cool detachment and emotional distance. Yet, the common (American) impression of wood is one of warmth, suppleness, depth and intimacy. One is reminded of craftsmanship, an old country home, the personality of the woodworker, the hominess of a den or study or old-fashioned library. To Americans, the image of warm, dark cherry or colorful maple or welcoming browns of oak are what come to mind. Even if one tries to think of bamboo, the idea is more of lush, wild, life-affirming growth that takes over in its exuberance. Suppleness, strength belied by reed thinness, symmetry -- these are the ideas and images brought to mind by bamboo.

But few (if any) of these images, feelings or ideas come to mind in this photo-set.

Kyle has the most handsome of the faces in this group of models. His body is the most magnificent. His smile is the most open and inviting. When he smiles, I'm reminded of a devilish pixie or a shy and slightly self-effacing man who just needs a bit of a push to become a big, welcoming bear-hug kind of guy. But that smile -- except for one (maybe two) photo -- is missing from this series of images.

Instead, I'm reminded of just how unapproachable Kyle is. A man that handsome, that muscular, that magnificent -- no one can have him. And these photos reinforce those feelings over and over. The generall impression is one of defeat. Give up now, because Kyle is too handsome and too muscular and too god-like for you to aspire to have him.

The result is that I want to rush past these photos, ignore the negative feelings and images they create in me, and denigrate Kyle and his beauty and his masculinity and his muscularity and his magnificent cock and balls. I don't want to trust him, or his sweet, open smile.

That's too bad. If anything, Kyle is the best model here. The natural tendency for men of lesser quality to shy away from him needs to be addressed. Kyle needs to be depicted as welcoming, approachable, have-able. His power, beauty and strength need to be like those of a favorite oak tree one would climb as a child, or that of a treasured country home built in the "old days" with love and craftsmanship. We should want to settle into Kyle's powerful arms comfortably, easily, warmly, lovingly. He should want us there. We should want to be there. He should feel loved by us, and we should feel safe with him.

None of that comes through here.

Adu, the Chinese photographer of gay Asian males, has a book out called "5SM." It's short for "Five Sports Men." Adu is perhaps the only photographer focusing on the Asian male nude working at the moment. (I can't include Clifford Baker in this, because his latest book is such crap that it's not worth the name "photography.")

Adu works from his native Taiwan, photographing Asian men in locations as diverse as Taiwan, Japan, China and California. His focus is primarily on Chinese men, although he occasionally photographs Thai, Vietnamese, Japanese and Asian-American men as well.

Adu's work fascinates me. It's not only that he brings an Asian sensibility (more on that below) to his work and art. It's also that Asian men as a whole just turn me on to an insane degree. I have absolutely no idea why. I'm partial to men who are taller and bigger than I am (muscle, not fat). Yet, most Asian men are much shorter than I am (I happen to be 6'4"). I am a complete bottom, and a size queen. Yet, most Asian men are not hung (by American standards). And the few Asian-American men I've met (most are Japanese and Chinese, and a few Koreans) are either versatile (which means they do not enjoy half their sexuality with me) or bottoms. Only one -- a Japanese bodybuilder -- was a complete top.

I admit that dark skin arouses me, and Asian men have much darker skin than I. I admit that black hair turns me on, and Asian men have dark hair. I also admit that younger men arouse me, and the short height, often nearly-hairless bodies of Asian men create the impression of youth for Americans (such as myself). I am aroused by dark eyes, and most Asian men have dark eyes. I am also aroused by thick, full, bushy pubic hair, and most Asian men have that.

Still, for some reason, that doesn't seem to be enough. Asian men are attractive. But why is there such a strong, overwhelming response on my part for men of Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Vietnamese, Thai and Malay descent? There shouldn't be, but there is.

That said, I am thrilled every time Adu publishes a book, magazine layout or calendar. I just wish there was more of it!

"5SM" is the sixth book of photographs that Adu has produced. "Naked Dragon" and "C.I.A" (which stands for "Chinese in America") also came out in 2003. I'll get to those later (if the pages aren't stuck together by the time I am finished with them!).

I suppose the only real qualm I have with this book up front is that it contains only five men. Only five? Adu, my friend, there are more than 1 billion Chinese. Quick, go find some more!

My second overall reaction is that this is an exquisitely produced book. Now, I'm not normally one to pay any attention the binding of paper quality (unless it impinges on the quality of the photographic print). Yet, the cover binding for "5SM" is simply amazing. It is a 1/8" thick, spongy particleboard cover. The front cover has an oval cut out of it that permits the reader to see the faces of Adu's five models that is printed on the flyleaf. Now that is just smart design. A wraparound paper (printed in Chinese) about 2.5" high -- a sort of miniature dustjacket -- covers the front and back. Again, it's inventive and original and very smart.

The theme of the book is sports and elements. As Adu writes on the inside front cover: "Five sportsmen gracefully move between heaven and earth, flourishing their masculinity through the five elements." It is this sort of Asian sensibility that motivates the photography within. Interestingly, Adu does not hesitate to depict his models fully naked (and occasionally with a full or semi-turgid erection). That alone tells you something about Adu's concept of Asian masculinity, for many photographer of the nude Asian male refuse to depict the genitalia. In part, this is due to the censorious nature of the societies (China, Japan, Malaysia, Singapore) in which many of these photographers work. But this goes much deeper than that. Many photographers conceive of the Asian male as neutered -- lacking in genitalia. There is no emphasis on the genitals as important to masculinity or sexuality in their work. Adu takes a much different approach. I fully admit that I am not briefed in the slightest as to Adu's background, so I cannot comment on how typical of Chinese culture his thinking is. For all I know, Adu is a fifth-generation Chinese-American working in Taiwan, and his work reflects strong American than Chinese sexual and cultural mores. But my understanding is that Adu is Chinese, and his images have deep roots in Chinese (especially) sexual and cultural norms. That said, his work is also indicative of a far different conception of these norms than most photographers of the nude Asian male wish to portray.

I, for one, am happy that Adu has chosen to emphasize a different tradition.

Mario is a 27-year-old Chinese fitness instructor from Taipei, in northern Taiwan. He is tall (177cm, or 5'10"), somewhat thick but not very muscular, has large testicles, full bushy pubes, and hairy legs. His face is open and framed by his long, floppy hair. He is also, oddly, circumsized. Mario is framed against metal -- a post-industrial factory or workshop setting featuring large gears is par for the course in this photoset.

Technically, these photos -- like those throughout this book -- are extremely high-quality. They are sharp, with a strong emphasis on medium shots (head to knees) and saturated colors. This said, I'm not so sure that these photographs are the best in the book. Mario is invariable shown leaning backward slightly, so that his chest is thrust forward and his belly is tightened and taut. The line of tension ends with his hips and lower belly, so that his legs (which are magnificently thick) and genitals are not the focus of attention. Often, Mario's muscular arms are lifted over his head, either lazily (with his wrists limp and elbows bent) or stretched tight. Once more, the overall effect is to draw attention to Mario's arms and toros, but not his face, genitals or legs. It is an odd choice. There are a few close-ups of Mario's rather handsome face -- with that powerful lower jaw, strong, open eyes and powerful, high forehead. But in the medium shots, Mario's face is often obscured by his large biceps and the curve of his arms.

The overall effect of the posing is almost off-putting, as if the photographer wanted to his Mario behind his thrust-foward chest (puffed out like an ape defending his territory) and his reaching, arching arms.

Too, the setting for these photographs is not particularly conducive to showcasing the model. Hornet yellows, dull oranges, bright rust-reds: These are the colors of the industrial setting that Mario poses in. Often, Mario is half-in, half-out of very dark shadows which cover his shoulders and side like a cape. The problem is that Mario's skin-tones are dark and warm, making him blend in with his background. Again, the entire effect is to hide the model more than reveal him, to draw the eye to the image as a whole rather than to highlight the model or bring out aspects of his personality. While the colors are warm and fully saturated, nothing quite "pops" out at the eye (in the way George Duroy often puts an element of blue -- a boy's eyes, an ocean in the background, a wall, a sofa, a towel -- into his Bel Ami photos so that the blue "pops" against the warmer, more uniform colors of his model's tan skin and the natural wood they rest against).

Indeed, one has to wonder what Adu's goal was with this set of photographs. Metal implies to me power, strength, hardness. It has a sense of being forged, of being wrought, of being wrest from the ground and remade in man's image for use. One would think that Mario, too, should portray a feeling of power, a feeling of having wrested his own strength from deep in the recesses of his body, and molded his body to his own will. While a feeling of power is subtly offered in this photos (most obviously through the upthrust arms; Mario's chest is not massive enough to symbolize power), that sensibility is just that -- subtle. It is not in-your-face or brazen. And I'm not exactly sure how the rusty, broken, dirty, post-industrial setting contributes to the sense of raw power. Rather, it implies a more desultory, used, broken-down, abandoned sense of power. It's not as if the metal objects Mario drapes himself across (fetishizes? fondles?) are rusted through. Rather, there is a sense of abandonment here.

In some way, the initial reaction to the photos is rather dismissive. In thinking through these images, however, there is a more disturbing, possibly thoughtful, idea here. But I'm not sure what it is or if it is intended.

Labels: Asians, photobooks, photography

I had to ask: Where is it legal to shoot porn films? Isn't porn just prostitution that is filmed?

Well, no.

First, we have to make the distinction between state and local law.

Counties, cities and towns are merely subdivisions of each state, created by each state for the sole purpose carrying out that state's governmental powers and responsibilities. Local governments have no inherent powers except those that are expressly conferred by state statute or are implied as necessary in aid of the powers that are expressly conferred. This principle is called "Dillon's Rule," after the 1872 treatise on municipal government written by Iowa Supreme Court Judge John F. Dillon. The U.S. Supreme Court adopted Dillon's Rule in "Merrill v. Monticello," 138 U.S. 673 (1891).

By contrast, in Home Rule states, municipalities are generally able to exercise any powers and perform any functions that are not expressly denied by the state's constitution, state statute or by the municipality's own Home Rule Charter.

Generally, states are either a "Dillon's Rule" state or a "Home Rule" state.

So in order to determine whether filming pornography is legal in your state or locality, one first has to determine whether the state in question is a Dillon's Rule state or a Home Rule state. If the state is a Dillon's Rule state, then you only look at state law. If the state is a Home Rule state, you first have to look at the state's Home Rule provisions in the state constitution or statutes. If you are satisfied the Home Rule provision(s) permit the locality to legislate on the issue, then you have to look at each county and city's local charter and local ordinances.

What a research undertaking!

About those ordinances...

An interesting article was published in the "California Western Law Review" (Matthew Green, "COMMENT: Sex on the Internet: A Legal Click or Illicit Trick?" 38 California Western Law Review 527 [Spring 2002]). Green looks at whether cybersex -- live sex acts performed for paying customers on the Internet -- is a prosecutable offense under a state's prostitution, solicitation (pandering), pimping and "related sex acts" laws.

There is also James Nahikian's "Comment: Learning to Love 'The Ultimate Peripheral' -- Virtual Vices Like 'Cyberprostitution' Suggest a New Paradigm to Regulate Online Expression," 14 John Marshall Journal of Computer & Information Law, 779 (Summer 1996), which defines the concept of cyber-prostitution but concludes that prostitution unequivocally requires direct genital contact.

For an opposing view, see David Cardiff, "Note: Virtual Prostitution: New Technologies and the World's Oldest Profession," 18 Hastings Communication & Entertainment Law Journal, 869 (1996), which also discusses the idea of cyber-prostitution but concludes that prostitution statutes are applicable because individuals who hire actors to engage in filmed or photographed sex acts for can be prosecuted under state pimping, solicitation and prostitution statutes.

Green identifies four main areas of law at work: Prostitution, solicitation and pimping. Let's look at each of them.

Prostitution and solicitation usually go hand in hand. In regards to prostitution, Green points out that in "United States v. Roeder," 526 F.2d 736 (10th Cir. 1975), the 10th Circuit Court of Appeals held that transporting women across state lines for the purpose of making a pornographic film violated the Mann Act (18 U.S.C. 2421) -- the federal law criminalizing interstate prostitution. Thus, it is plausible to assume that a porn studio could run afoul of federal prostitution statutes in one of two ways:

(1) If one of the two states involved (either the state which the travelers originated or the state the film was shot), or any of the states which the performers or crew crossed in their travels from the originating state to the destination state, criminalizes pornography as prostitution, then the producers and actors could be prosecuted under the Mann Act.

(2) If paying someone to have sex on film constitutes pornography under the Mann Act, then the producers and actors could be prosecuted under the Mann Act.

We'll deal with the Mann Act when we get to a U.S. Supreme Court called "United States v. O'Brien."

But what if you stay in-state? Forty-nine of the 50 states currently outlaw prostitution, and almost all of them use very broad language in their prostitution statutes. Almost none of them require physical contact for the crimes of prostitution or solicitation to occur.

Take Arizona. In "State v. Taylor," 808 P.2d 314 (Ariz. Ct. App. 1990), the police arrested women who performed in a strip club. The women were in booths, behind plexiglass. The men sat in an enclosed booth in front of the plexiglass and paid the women through a slot in the wall to perform sexual acts on each other (in "Taylor," the acts at issue were fondling of the breasts and cunnilingus) or on themselves (fondling the breasts and masturbation). The men often masturbated while watching the sex acts. In "State v. Taylor," the court ruled that this constituted prostitution. Although no physical contact occurred, none was required by the statute. Because the men and women were in close geographic proximity (separated by the plexiglass) and the women performed sex acts at the instruction of the men (either initiating unspecified acts after being paid, or engaging in acts ordered by the men after being paid), the court found that the strip club performances were acts of prostitution.

By extension, paying someone to engage in a sex act in order to film a pornographic movie may constitute solicitation. For example, take Wisconsin. In "Wisconsin v. Kittilstadt," 603 N.W. 2d 732, 738 (Wis. 1999), the Wisconsin Supreme Court ruled that person A offering money to person B to have sex with person C in front of person A constituted solicitation of prostitution. Notice that there was no requirement of physical contact between the defendant (person A) and the prostitute(s) (persons B and C). Because the "Kittilstadt" court did not reach the issues of geographic or chronological proximity (as the "Taylor" court did), it remains possible (if implausible) that Wisconsin could prosecute porn performers as prostitutes and producers of porn for solicitation.

But what if a third party pays the performer? Does this let me off the hook for solicitation and let the performer off the hook for prostitution? California does not care who actually compensates the prostitute -- whether it is the john or the prostitute's employer. In "People v. Fixler," 128 Cal. Rptr. 363 (Ct. App. 1976), the california state court of appeals held that "if A pays B to engage in sexual intercourse with C, then B is engaging in prostitution and that situation is not changed by the fact that A may stand by to observe the act or photograph it".

So then why is pornography not prostitution in California?

The key ruling came in "People v. Freeman," 758 P.2d 1128 (Cal. 1988). In "Freeman," a pornographic movie producer hired performers to engage in nonobscene sexual activities for a film. Because the movie producer did not compensate the actors to perform sexual acts for his own or his actors' sexual gratification (something the California prostitution law requires) and because the actors "were separated from consumers by time and the distancing medium of film," the California Supreme Court ruled that the actors were not prostitutes.

The "Taylor" case in Arizona can thus be distinguished from the "Freeman" case in California because the johns and performers in "Taylor" were in close physical and chronological proximity. This raises the issue of whether cybersex -- if the show is live (not taped and portrayed as live) -- constitutes prostitution (regardless of whether the performer engages in sex acts at the instruction of the audience or not).

So why isn't pornography prostitution under the Mann Act? For that matter, why hasn't Wisconsin and 47 other states prosecuted pornographers under the prostitution and solicitation statues? Because in "United States v. O'Brien," 391 U.S. 367 (1968), the U.S. Supreme Court established that live theatrical performances are protected by the First Amendment.

The "O'Brien" case has nothing to do with porn, actually. But it has everything to do with nonexpressive speech. O'Brien was a Vietname War protestor who burned his Selective Service draft card before a crowd of people in order to influence others to adopt his anti-war beliefs. He was indicted, tried and convicted for violating 50 U.S.C. App. 462 (b) -- which made it a crime to knowingly destroy a Selective Service draft card. O'Brien argued that his First Amendment right to destroy card outweighed the government's right to regulate how such cards were handled and treated. The District Court rejected O'Brien's, but the Court of Appeals for the 1st Circuit overruled and held the law was unconstitutional because it singled out protestors. (The appeals court, however, still upheld O'Brien's conviction because it said that O'Brien was in violation of the regulation which required him to keep his card in his possession. "Do whatever you want with your card," the appellate court seemed to be saying, "so long as you hold on to it.") The U.S. Supreme Court overruled the Court of Appeals.

But in overruling the Court of Appeals, the U.S. Supreme Court needed to deal with O'Brien's contentin that First Amendment rights do have to be weighed against government regulation and statute. So the Supreme Court set up a four-part test to determine when regulations that restrict conduct containing both "speech" and "nonspeech" elements (such as draft card burning, or prostitution statutes) violate the First Amendment. The four factors are:

"(1) Whether the regulation is within the constitutional power of the government;
(2) Whether the governmental interest is important or substantial;
(3) Whether the governmental interest is unrelated to the suppression of free expression; and
(4) Whether the incidental restrictions on alleged First Amendment interests is no greater than is essential to the furtherance of the interest."

The "Freeman" court considered the case of Harold Freeman, who had procured four females and two males from a porn casting agency for the purpose of making a pornographic film. Freeman was subsequently arrested, tried and convicted for engaging in pandering (solicitation). The women (but not the men) were also arrested and convicted for engaging in prostitution. Freeman appealed his conviction. Both the district court and appellate court ruled against Freeman, but the California Supreme Court overturned his conviction. The "Freeman" court did so on a number of grounds.

First, the "Freeman" court found that the state legislature had not intended the prostitution law to apply to the making of pornographic films.

Second, the "Freeman" court found that prostitution had to be for the purpose of sexual gratification -- and that purpose was absent here. California Penal Code section 647, subdivision (b) defines prostitution as "any lewd act between persons for money or other consideration." The term "lewd act" is not defined in the statute itself. In "Pryor v. Municipal Court," 599 P.2d 636 (1979), the California Supreme Court defined "lewd act" as any act which includes the "touching of the genitals, buttocks, or female breast for the purpose of sexual arousal, gratification, annoyance or offense..." (emphasis added) Furthermore, in "People v. Hill," 163 Cal. Rptr. 99 (1980), the California courts applied this definition to the definition of prostitution. Furthermore, the "Hill" court said that for "a 'lewd' or 'dissolute' act to constitute 'prostitution,' the genitals, buttocks, or female breast, of either the prostitute or the customer must come in contact with some part of the body of the other for the purpose of sexual arousal or gratification of the customer or of the prostitute." (emphasis added) Since there was no evidence that Freeman or the performers had received sexual arousal or gratification from making the film, there was no prostitution. (It should be noted that the "Freeman" court clearly indicated that had Freeman participated in the sexual acts himself, the court would have found in favor of the prosecution.)

Third, the "Freeman" court said, "The acts of alleged 'prostitution' depicted were not crimes independent of and apart from payment for the right to photograph the performance, and it was evident the charges had been brought to curb profiteering in pornography without the necessity of proving obscenity." There were two acts here, the California Supreme Court said. One is the payment to the performers for their acting -- payment for procurement. Another is the payment to the performers for sexual acts -- payment for alleged prostituion. "[Payment for sexual intercourse is] independent of and totally apart from any payment for the right to photograph the conduct." Only the first act had occurred, the California Supreme Court ruled. Freeman did not have the "mens rea" (the guilty mind; the intention to commit a crime) to trigger the second act, and it was a circular argument to say that Freeman's payment had been intended to both procure and pay for sex.

Now, these sound like weak arguments. (I think they are.) So the California Supreme Court went further and applied the "O'Brien" test to pornography.

Regarding the first prong of the "O'Brien" test, the "Freeman" court found that the California legislature had the constitutional power to enact anti-prostitution and anti-pandering/anti-solicitation laws.

Regarding the second prong of the "O'Brien" test, the "Freeman" court determined that the governmental interests of preventing profiteering from prostitution and curtailing the spread of AIDS and other STDs were "important."

Regarding the third prong of the "O'Brien" test, the "Freeman" court concluded that the governmental interests of preventing the spread of prostitution and curtailing the spead of disease were unrelated to the prosecution of pornography. The prosecution had admitted that if the performers had donated their sexual acts, there would have been no grounds to prosecute Freeman. Yet, the same acts would have occurred. To the California Supreme Court, this implied that there was a distinction between the making of pornography and the commission of prostitution. And lastly, the prosecution had admitted that their goal was to shut down the pornographic industry, and that the pursuit of prostitution charges was ancillary to this goal. Since the governmental interests were unrelated to pornography, the conviction failed the third prong of the "O'Brien" test.

Regarding the fourth prong of the "O'Brien" test, the "Freeman" court ruled that if paid actors in a nonobscene pornographic film were declared prostitutes, this would have a widespread effect on ALL films -- including films of "unquestioned artistic and social merit, as well as films made for medical or educational purposes." Hence, the California statute did not have a merely incidental restriction on the First Amendment.

Green's analysis concludes that prostitution, solicitation, pimping and other prostitution-related laws all hinge on whether the state prostitution statute at issue requires physical contact and/or close geographic and chronological contact between the paying party and performer. If the state prostitution statute so requires, then solicitation, pimping and solicitation laws all come into play. Green seems to indicate that Wisconsin would find pornographic performances prostitution. So why haven't the states or the federal government (under the Mann Act) prosecuted porn under prostitution and other laws? Because the U.S. Supreme Court's "O'Brien" test -- particularly the fourth prong of the test -- clearly protects pornography as protected speech under the First Amendment. (However, I would not think it implausible for the government to prosecute an obscene film's producers and performers under prostitution law. Obscene films, by definition, are not protected speech. Hence, the fourth test fails and the act could be deemed prostitution. It's a seemingly wacky outcome, but one that makes legal sense.)

In order to fully answer the question posed, we'd have to do a state-by-state analysis of the statutes at issue as well as a state-by-state analysis of court rulings regarding those statutes. Yikes! I'm not gonna do that!

Not discussed in Green's analysis, however, is the extent to which state prostitution statutes use the Model Penal Code as a basis. Beginning in the 1970s, a group of lawyers began drafting model state statutes. The goal was to create uniformity among the states, but also to encourage states to adopt the latest legal thinking and scholarship. Because the model codes were drafted by a neutral thirdy party, the lawyers hoped that this might help state legislatures finesse the tricky political issues surrounding modernization of state law. One such set of laws that was developed was the Model Penal Code.

The Model Penal Code addresses prostitution. Posner and Silbaugh (Richard A. Posner and Katherine B. Silbaugh, "A Guide to America's Sex Laws," Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1996) note that "Some states criminalize either the solicitation by a prostitute or the tenancy of the prostitute in a house of prostitution, rather than the act of prostitution itself. This removes from the scope of criminal prohibition any exchanges transacted entirely in private, and incorporates the view of the Model Penal Code drafters that such conduct is of less concern to the public than solicitation. Where the definition of prostitution requires that a person engage in sexual activity as a business, the drafters intended that a single exchange of sex for money would not be adequate to complete the offense; rather, a pattern of prostitution activity would need to be proved." The discussion by Posern and Silbaugh indicates that pornography may lie outside the boundaries of the definition of prostitution in the Model Penal Code. On the other hand, the "professional porn star" may be more accurately described as a prostitute under the Model Penal Code than the amateur who engages in paid sexual performances on a one-time-only or possibly irregular pattern. It is not clear, either, which states have actually adopted the Model Penal Code. It's an intriguing idea that deserves further analysis.

There is yet another issue here, and that is zoning laws. As everyone knows, zoning laws regulate where adult video and book stores and strip clubs may engage in business. Many legal scholars have analyzed whether cyber-sex businesses such as Voyeur Dorm/Dude Dorm fall within adult business zoning laws. The conclusion often drawn is that they do. For example, see Francesca Ortiz, "Zoning the Voyeur Dorm: Regulating Home-Based Voyeur Web Sites Through Land Use Laws," 34 U.C.-Davis Law Review 929 (Summer 2001). Ortiz concludes that adult business zoning laws apply to home-based Web sex sites (whether the Web site is voyeur-only and does not depict hard-core sexual acts, or whether the Web site does depict such acts). However, Ortiz's analysis implies that filming pornography also constitutes an "adult-oriented business" under local zoning law. Hence, an adult film company (but not the performers, per se) could be prosecuted for violation of these laws.

But many porn producers "steal" locations (e.g., use them without permission). So it seems unlikely that a porn company could be prosecuted under local zoning laws. Most adult video companies use studios in California anyway, and those studios are properly situated under local zoning ordinances.

The issue of "stealing" locations, however, raises the further legal issue of filming without a permit. Almost all states (and many localities) require filming permits. Such permits not only require a permit fee, but they also require the production company to acquire liability insurance (often general liability of $1 million, plus another $1 million if filming on state or local propety), completion bonds, security and possibly state or local police assistance; establish procedures and fees for road closures; notify and follow on-site monitoring procedures for the state or local film commission agent(s); meet safety and health procedures, permits and regulations (especially for pyrotechnics); obtain special liability insurance levels when filming on bridges (often $1 million more), automobiles (often $500,000 more) or aircraft (often $5 million more); meet regulations regarding camera and equipment placement; meet procedures for securing the use of public property, private property, state or local parks, state or local roads, and state or local bridges; and include general instructions regarding filming (e.g., will talent be filmed against scenery? will any activity occur on the water? will there be any rooftop filming? will there be b-roll filming of state personnel? are stunts planned? are there driving shots, and if so will they interfere with the flow of traffic? will the production need intermittent traffic control, rolling breaks, or a lane or road closure? will the production team use a process trailer, camera car, be filming car-to-car? will roadways need a wet-down? will the production be constructing a set? will the production be using animals? will the production be removing/installing signage?). Turnaround time for a film permit is usually 48 hours.

A few years ago, a Falcon Studios production was raided for filming without the required permits. Falcon had neither the film permit nor any attendant liability insurance, permissions, etc. There are several adult video organizations (the Free Speech Coalition is one, I believe) which carry film permit in California. They allow studios to "buy in" to the permit on an as-needed basis -- it's entirely legal. Paramount, Universal and DreamWorks do the same for the independent productions they fund. Because film permits themselves involve only a small fee, the real cost is the carrying of various insurance policies. By carrying a group policy which is amended regularly whenever a production company buys into the policy for a shoot, individual porn studios only have to pay a small fee to the group carrying the group liability policy. The group carrying the group liability policy rarely has to pay anything, because fees from studios buying into the policy cover the cost of the group policy.

But when filming outside California, one has to wonder about the legality of adult productions. When Toby Ross filmed boys fucking under an Interstate highway bridge near Chicago, I honestly doubt he had a film permit. Nor would the state would have granted him one, I suspect. Hence, porn films may be "proof" that state or local film permitting laws have been violated. This, too, is an issue that is not considered when discussing the legality of pornography productions.

Labels: cinema, gay cinema, gay porn

Does anybody else find that black-and-white photography doesn't do justice to the black man? I do. (Asian men, too, are not well-depicted in black-and-white.)

I'll use as an example the excellent photography of Tony Butcher. Tony Butcher is one of the leading photographers of the male nude to emerge in Britain in the 1990s. Tony began photography as a hobby in 1989, snagged a fellowship at the Royal Photographic Society in 1990 (based on his work with black men). His work has been published in "Adam and Erotica" by Edward Lucy Smith, "Naked Men Too" and "The Male Nude Now" by David Leddick and "Man: Photographs of the Male Nude" by Trevor Watson, Tony Butcher, Za-Hazzanani and Toni Catany. The calendar "Noir" has featured his work for in 2000, 2001 and 2002. His work has also appeared in "Blue," the "Blue collections "Dreamboys," "Dreamboys 2" and "Men in Blue." Tony Butcher's work has been shown in London, Birmingham, New York, San Francisco, Amsterdam and Paris. He has also done stills work for two London theatrical productions: "Pepper Soup" and "Corpus Christi," both at the Lyric Hammersmith.

So let's take a look at some of Tony Butcher's black and white photographs of black nude men. Isn't it odd how it really doesn't matter if the model is black, Asian, Latino or Italian? Skin tones tend to be muted and indistinguishable. Dark is dark -- it doesn't matter if the model is from Florence or Kinshasa.

But look at the difference when Butcher uses color film to photograph his models. The skin tones taken on a warm look. Variations in skin tone are visible. The difference between a very dark and dark model are not only distinguishable, but create new emotional responses in the viewer. Young skin is differentiated from old skin.

I've never really heard or read of photographers talking about race and color film before. Yet, it occurred to me today -- while looking at Butcher's work online -- that there is something to be said about the effect color film has on men of color (Africans, Asians, Latinos).

I find this fascinating.

By the way, Tony Butcher has published his first book of black male nudes and it is available online at Tony Butcher's Web site. Go buy it. It's terrific.

PS: You won't find it published in the United States until late 2004 or early 2005. It was published in July 2003 in Great Britain. These crappy American booksellers wouldn't know quality photography if it bit them.

David Alexander.

Does the name ring a bell?

In the 1960s, 1970s and 1980s, New York photographer David Alexander photographed naked African-American men. His philosophy was "bigger is better." Horse-hung models such as Superboy, Big Tree Trunk Toy, Reuban, Raoul and Taurus were his subjects.

In 2003, Janssen published "Mr. Hard," a collection of David Alexander's work.

Go buy it.

I am not entirely sure why it is so hard to search the Web for photography books. I mean, just try to find any of Erwin Olaf's books anywhere online. You might find mention of him. Maybe even mention of the title of his books. But nothing about the books themselves.

I find this disturbing. The fact of the matter is that if you go to Olaf's Web site, you'll find plenty of photos. But which book were they in? I begin to suspiciously wonder if this isn't some subtle ploy to get people to buy all of his books -- so you'll throw away the four of five that you don't want.

I like his work. His publicity campaigns really push the edge in terms of sexuality. His Marlies Dekkers catalog is really inventive in terms of the use of space, models, and technical dexterity of the photographic work itself.

But look at his "Fashion Victims" set. Very nice -- except there are a number of female models which I don't really care for. (Fuck you -- I'm a homosexual.)

His "Paradise Club" set-pieces and portraits are rather derivative, however, and sadly heterosexual in a "Dirty Clown Comix" way.

His "Royal Blood" photos are creative. But once you've seen one, you've sort of seen them all.

If you want to see something typical of Olaf's work, check out his "Joy (Marc)" -- which depicts a handsome, hot-bodied, mohawked boy opening a frothing bottle of champagne up his sculpted belly. It's been ripped off a million times.

Why does the deficit matter?

It does for good reasons and for bad ones.

Deficits can be particularly good for the economy. Every mainstream economist knows that recessions (and depressions) are caused when people -- consumers, that is -- begin to worry (for whatever reason) about the future. As they stop spending, manufacturers stop manufacturing. Eventually, wages are cut and people laid off. A vicious cycle emerges, and soon the economy is in the toilet. A self-fulfilling prophecy occurs as the bad news about lay-offs and lower wages creates even less incentive to spend. Indeed, banks and the wealthy even come to see any investment as risky due to the bad economy. As creditors refuse to lend, the economy weakens even more.

That's a recession. If it gets really bad, manufacturers will even cut prices in order to attract spending. This causes deflation. The problem with deflation is that manufacturers have to cut wages and costs even more drastically in order to absorb the price-cuts. Workers resist wage cuts, and many manufacturers simply go out of business.

That's a depression.

So how do you induce people to spend again?

Government can do so with deficits. The government can spend money on goods and services, and this can put more money in people's -- consumers' -- pockets. This makes them feel better about the economy, and they begin spending again. At first, the amount of goods and services is not enough to meet this sudden increase in demand. So inflation occurs. Inflation drives up prices, but wages quickly follow as workers demand more income to meet the higher prices. Slowly, the economy grows itself out of recession.

But how should government finance this spending? It could tax individuals and businesses more, which will keep the budget in balance, and pay for the goods and services this way. But this is simply taking money out of people's pockets and putting it back in the form of government spending. That makes no sense. It's taking from Peter to pay Paul.

Instead, government could deficit spend. This means government has to borrow money to fund the deficit. Where does it get this money? Remember, creditors are risk-averse during a recession. But government bonds are the ultimate safe investment. A federal bond, by definition, cannot be defaulted on. And if that's not enough, government can sell the bonds at high rates of interest. In fact, governments have done exactly this -- and this gets money moving through the economy, into the pockets of consumers, and gets economies going again.


But then there are bad deficits...

Bad deficits occur when either the economy doesn't need stimulating, or when the debt reaches such massive levels that it impacts on the other things government tries to do.

Say a government decides to spend its way out of a recession. The government could build roads, airports, bridges, ports, and other things. Or, it could spend all its money on gumballs. Both will be used up, in the long run. But roads, bridges, seaports and the like help the economy grow in the long run. Gumballs are just used up. Both help lift the economy out of economic doldrums in the short run, but only "public works" help lift the economy in the long run.

So let's say our economy is growing. Government has floated $100 billion in 30-year bonds at 3% interest in the year 2000. In the year 2001, the government has to pay $3 billion in interest. Where is that money going to come from? Government could float yet another bond to pay for that interest. But more likely it is going to establish a category of the budget to pay for the interest.

But ya know........ $3 billion is a heck of a lot of money. That is 25% of the U.S. Department of Education's grants for all elementary and secondary schools and all colleges and universities. That is 50% more than the EPA spends on all environmental protection. That is the entire budget of the FBI.

In fact, the U.S. spends only $416 billion a year on things that are not mandated by law (Social Security payments, for example, are mandated by law but EPA protection is not) and which are not related to defense.

$3 billion in interest spending would mean an across-the-board cut in all "non-defense discretionary spending" of 1%. With inflation running at 2%, you can add another 1% cut on top of that. And now we've got a 3% cut in all discretionary spending.

And then the government spends another $100 billion in deficits in 2001. Interest in 2002 will be $6 billion. That's now a 4% cut in non-defense discretionary spending.

Whoa, now we're talking real cuts in domestic spending -- things like environmental protection, law enforcement, food stamps, agricultural supports, public transportation, health care for veterans and scientific research.

Maybe the economy does grow in 2001. Maybe it grows by 1%, increasing taxes by 1% and offsetting that 1% drop in the budget due to interest payments. We can certainly hope that the economy grows faster than that -- maybe even 3% -- which could actually help the budget stay even with inflation as well as pay for the interest payments.

But you can't live on hope.

George W. Bush inherited a $127 billion fiscal surplus in 2001. The federal government had estimated that the budget would have a $5.6 trillion surplus between 2001 and 2011.

But George W. Bush has turned that into a $3 trillion deficit -- an almost unimaginable reversal of $9 trillion in only three years.

According to the Congressional Budget Office, this means the national debt will be $14 trillion in 2011. Interest payments alone will approach $1 trillion dollars a year in 2011 -- which means interest payments will exceed all non-defense discretionary spending COMBINED.

And if Bush's tax-and-spend ways aren't reined in, the U.S. deficit will reach $44 trillion by 2051.

Today, interest payments consume $161 billion a year. Non-defense discretionary spending consumes $416 billion (19.4%) out of a total budget of $2,140 billion (or $2.14 trillion). In other words, interest payments are just about 7.5% of the federal budget.

By 2008, using the Bush administration's fuzzy math, interest payments will consume 9.3% of the budget while non-defense discretionary spending will have dropped to 17.1% of the budget.

By 2011, with the Bush deficit ballooning out of control, interest payments will be up to 14% and non-defense discretionary spending down to a mere 12.5%.

So, Mr. Bush: Just how are we going to be better off?

I admit, I love Godzilla movies.

I also admit that the films since the 1970s haven't been up to snuff, really. "Godzilla 1984" started out well, but had no conclusion. "Godzilla vs. Biollante" (1989) was another complete mess. Although some of it made internal sense, the monster was about as ingenious as mud and not scary one damn bit. The special effects were 70s-style. And the theme of environmental pollution was done a million times already. "Godzilla vs. Mothra" (1992) worked - up until Battra and Mothra began "talking" to each other. That was stupid.

"Godzilla vs. King Ghidorah" (1991) is a great film. Okay, parts are insanely stupid - M11 "running" in "Six Million Dollar Man" style down the road. (M11 is just a rip-off of Data from "ST: The Next Generation.") The appalling cuteness of the dragon-like pets. And the wacky time-travel stuff during World War II. But otherwise, the plot was excellent, and the re-appearance of Mecha-King Ghidorah was awesome.

"Godzilla vs. Mecha-Godzilla 2" (1993) was pretty good, although the death of Rodan was unnecessary and the silliness of both Rodan and Godzilla "hatching" an egg was dumb.

"Godzilla vs. Space Godzilla" (1994) has some awesome, amazing special effects. Space Godzilla didn't look too bad. But the Disneyfication of Godzilla Junior was an insane thing to do. The Yakuza plot line was insipid. And I'm not sure why Toho felt the need to bring back Mogera (a Godzilla-like robot from Toho's 1957 film, "The Mysterians") instead of simply resurrecting Mecha-Godzilla. Again.

"Godzilla vs. Destroyah" (1995) also had some stupendous effects. The monster Destroyah was silly, however. It looked like the Gyoas from "Gamera, Guardian of the Universe" (made the same year by Toho). I thought the idea of bringing the Godzilla series to a close was awesome. And casting one of the original cast members from 1954 in this film was pure genius!!!!!!!!!!! The finale was almost touching.

But then it was right back into the dumpster: "Godzilla 2000" had crap for a plot (I saw this in the theater with Brian, and we both loathed it). Only the opening 15 minutes had decent special effects (and it was quite thrilling, too). "Godzilla vs. Megaguirus" (also 2000) had zilch for battle scenes. I mean, Godzilla actually fights for only the last 15 minutes, and only 7 of those are taken up with Megaguirus itself. Dumb. Now, "Godzilla, Mothra and King Ghidorah: Giant Monsters All-Out Attack!" (2001) was decent. "GMK" as it is known has a decent enough plot, although most people take issue with transforming King Ghidorah into the savior of earth instead of its tormentor. And the triple-death of Ghidorah just smacks of silliness. Still, the finale -- with radiation spraying out of Godzilla's wounds -- was pretty decent. And there are awesome shots of Godzilla coming up out of water that would do Peter Jackson proud.

And now there are two new films: "Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla" (2002) and "Godzilla, Mothra, Mechagodzilla: Tokyo S.O.S.!" (2003). Toho resurrects Mecha-Godzilla in a new cyborg form, and it's really a two-part film.

The rumor is that Sony is going to release both films this summer in the U.S.

Just thought everyone should know: I have 19 naked men calendars on my wall.

The best "man" for January? The superbly hung Chinese muscleboy in Adu's "Naked Asian Male" calendar. Damn, but he is handsome.

The worst photo? It's a tie between Sam Carson's "First Exposure" image (fuzzy, bad color, no dick-shot) and Adam Film World's "Gay Porn Star Birthdays" calendar image of Trent Atkins (who looks skinny, pathetic and scared).

The worst image, overall, is again a tie: The "Fresmen Magazine" calendar image of small-dicked T.J.; the RAD Video "Naked Youth" calendar image of Jasper and Christian Owen (what's with the platinum blonde look? and one guy isn't even naked!); Lucas Kazan's "A Taste of Italy" image of Dario D'Alba (he looks like he's 50 years old, and has a small penis); "Advocate Men" calendar image of Sebastian Steele (small dick, ugly face, poor technical quality of the shot's composition); and "Unzipped" calendar image of a fat, snarling, aged Zak Spears (the quote for this topman has him announcing that he "likes to get fucked", which completely blows everyone's image of the guy).

I am always slightly miffed that no famous person (well, famous in the sense that anyone else knows who they are) shares a birthday with me. A good friend of mine has five movie stars, a president and three world-renowned authors sharing his birthday. Another has a famous movie director, two famous actors, a famous scientist and a famous politican sharing his birthday. Another shares a birthday with two movie stars and two singers -- all of whom he's met!

Me?

I share mine with Sergei Eisenstein. That's it.

Sergei Mikhailovich Eisenstein was born January 23, 1898, in Riga (the capital city of Latvia -- then part of Russia). He died at the age of 50 in 1948.

Eisenstein was of Jewish descent through his paternal grandparents. His father worked in shipbuilding. In 1910, the family moved to St. Petersburg. Eisenstein's father was an architect. As a child, Eisenstein attended the German "Realschule" in Riga to prepare himself for engineering school. When his parents divorced in 1909, he remained with his father, studying Russian, German, English and French from books in his father's library. He also performed in a children's theater troupe, which he founded.

In 1915, Eisenstein moved to Petrograd to continue his studies at the Institute of Civil Engineering, living with his mother in her apartment. In his spare time, he studied Renaissance art and attended avant-garde theatrical productions. For two years he led this double life, following in his father's footsteps at the Institute while pursuing his own interests outside school. From the stage, he worked his way into film, where he began exploring his ideas of "proletarian cinema" -- films featuring masses of people rather than individuals.

Eisenstein came up with a number of film techniques. But the most important was the concept of "montage" -- editing a film to reinforce the central ideas and themes of the plot and its overall meaning.

Eisenstein was inspired by Renaissance concepts of the importance and function of space. He studied Leonardo da Vinci's work and was influenced by Freud's interpretation of the art of Leonardo da Vinci. Eisenstein was a progressive in that he believed technology distorted humanistic conceptions of space. Subsequently, in his films he attempted to show how machines changed and altered sensastion. Yet, at the same time, he was fascinated by technology and struggled to find a way to merge the spirit of the Renaissance with the spirit of the machine age in ways that were not simply aesthetic.

With the October Revolution of 1917, he found the opportunity to escape the engineering profession. Watching the crowds of the 1917 October Revolution surge toward and invade the Winter Palace of the czars in St. Petersburg was a major turning point for Eisenstein. Joining the Red Army, he helped organize and construct defenses and began to produce entertainment for the troops. In the Civil War of 1918-21, he worked regularly as a set and costume-designer. After demobilization in 1920, he entered the new Moscow Proletkult Theatre (Theater of the People) where he quickly became principal designer and then co-director.

The second great impact the October Revolution had on Eisenstein was the way it made him aware of the nature of mass action as an emotional and narrative force. Having studied the films of D.W. Griffith, he became convinced that film was the most efficient tool for Communist propaganda. The concept of "proletarian cinema" appeared in Eisenstein's first film, "Strike" (produced in 1924). Earlier that year, Eisenstein had published an article on theories of editing in the magazine "Lef," edited by the great Russian poet Mayakovsky.

Eisenstein theorized that cinema was a synthesis of art and science. Like engineering, where the physical elements of concrete and steel could be manipulated to create a blockhouse or a mansion, the physical elements of film, too, could be deliberately modified to create specific emotional reactions in the audience. Toward this end, Eisenstein proposed a new editing form, "montage." Montage is the use of arbitrarily chosen images -- independent from the action -- presented not in chronological sequence but in whatever way creates the maximum psychological impact on the audience. Thus, the filmmaker establishes in the consciousness of the audience the elements that would lead them to the idea the director wants to communicate. The director should attempt to place the audience in a spiritual state or the psychological situation that will give birth to the idea the director wants to imbue. It wasn't an obviously propagandistic theory, but it was clearly a cinematic one.

The principles of montage guided Eisenstein's entire career and continue to strongly influence all filmmakers to this day. The "American-style" or "narrative montage" emphasizes editing to further the pace of the story and the plot of the film. For example: In the film "Alien," there are several editing shots of the planet hanging in space interspersed between shots of Ripley and Ash nervously awaiting the return of the crew from the crashed alien starship. These editing shots have nothing to do with the actual action on the planet below. But they help to establish in the audience a sense of alienation from what's going on (just as Ripley and the crew feel alienated from each other and from society at large), a sense of isolation (which is critical to the mounting sense of terror in the film) and a sense of being overwhelmed by the vastness of space (also essential to creating the sense of despair that precedes Ripley's terror in the film).

"Strike" recounts the repression of a strike by the soldiers of the czar. Eisenstein juxtaposed shots of workers being mowed down by machine guns with shots of cattle being butchered in a slaughterhouse. The effect was striking. The cattle weren't literally slaughtered at the same time and the film has nothing to do with slaughterhouses, but this was a stunning example of the use of montage.

In 1925, in order to commemorate the failed Bolshevik revolution of 1905, the Communist Party commissioned the film "Potemkin" (also called "Battleship Potemkin"). The film was made in the Black Sea port of Odessa. In 1958, an international poll of critics voted "Battleship Potemkin" the best film ever made. (That was the year that "Citizen Kane" went into re-release, and triumphantly replaced "Battleship Potemkin" at the top of such lists.) The film follows the story of the Battleship Potemkin, which has returned to Russia after fighting a losing war against Japan. The soldiers are fed maggotty bread, which causes them to mutiny. Several are hanged. When the crew revolts again, they take over the ship and head home for Odessa. The people of the port of Odessa row out to meet them, giving them food and drink. But the czar's soldiers move on the town. Pleading with the soldiers to revolt against the czar, the people move up the Odessa Stairs (which lead up from the water's edge into the town square). The soldiers mercilessly gun them down. The czar's navy enters the harbor. The Battleship Potemkin does battle with them, destroying several ships before being sunk. Despite the massacre, the people know the time is coming when they will throw off their shackles.

Any cinephile unfamiliar with the legendary "Odessa Stairs" sequence is ignorant regarding the powerful potential of film. There are few, rare moments in film history comparable to the stark brutality of this sequence. The perfect symmetry of the soldiers at the top of the stairs, symbolically firing downward on the unarmed civilians beneath the state's boot, is jarring in its effectiveness. The most widely praised moment of this sequence is when the soldiers shoot a mother trying to protect her baby. Dying, she falls against the carriage, which sends her child careening uncontrollably down the stairs. The civilians who attempt to stop the carrirage are mowed down by the fire of the advancing troops. (It is so effective, many people believe the incident actually occurred. Only the revolt of the Potemkin really happened.) The image is so effective, hundreds of filmmakers have used it (most notoriously, director Brian de Palma in the train station finale of "The Untouchables").

Eisenstein's next picture was the two-hour film "October" (1929), which dealt with the shifts of power between the 1917 February and October revolutions, Lenin's entry into Russia and the struggle of the Bolsheviks with their opponents. Based on American Communist John Reed's writings, Eisenstein was given virtually unlimited resources to make the film. Since the October 1917 revolution was never captured on film, Eisenstein's film is by considered by historians to be the closest thing to a documentary (as it was made a mere 12 years after the event).

"October" was followed the same year by "The General Line", Eisenstein's last silent film. The picture is a dramatic satire about an old peasant woman's attempt to establish collective farming in her village. The film contains strong homoerotic elements (Eisenstein shot luxurious images of half-naked, sweating, muscular Russian teens working in the fields) and some extraordinary sadomasochistic undertones. But the film was condemned as "formalist" (superficially politically correct, but lacking in real belief in the Soviet system) by the Communist Party.

Disenchanted with the Soviet Union, Eisenstein began to travel widely in Europe -- with lengthy stays in Berlin and Paris -- and the United States. In Paris, he met James Joyce, Jean Cocteau, Tristan Tzara, Albert Einstein, Le Corbusier and Gertrude Stein -- all of whom seemed excited by his work. In May 1930, he arrived in the United States. He met D.W. Griffith in New York, and lectured at several Ivy League schools before moving on to Hollywood where he hoped to make a film for Paramount. He was welcomed by leading Hollywood figures including Douglas Fairbanks, Sr., and Charlie Chaplin (who became a close friend). Despite his popularity, his proposal for an adaptation of Theodore Dreiser's "An American Tragedy" was rejected as too complicated.

Eisenstein was encouraged by Robert Flaherty (the founding father of American documentary filmmaking) and Diego Rivera (the Mexican artist) to make a film about Mexico. In December 1930, with funding from the writer Upton Sinclair, he began work on "Que Viva Mexico."

In 1931, Eisenstein left American for Mexico and fell in love with the country and its men. But after a falling out with Sinclair, Eisenstein halted filming and returned to Moscow. Eisenstein expected have the rushes sent to him in Russia for editing and completion in final film form, but they never arrived. The film was retained by Sinclair and then sold. It was edited into a film without Eisenstein's knowledge or permission, and exhibited under a variety of names -- including "Time in the Sun," "Thunder Over Mexico" and "Death Day." In 1983, Eisenstein's editor, Grigory Alexandrov, obtained the rushes from the Museum of Modern Art in New York City and edited a final version that many consider to the be closest thing to a "true Eisenstein cut." The newly edited version of "Que Viva Mexico!" is a terrific film. Told in five segments, Eisenstein explores different aspects of the native Indian life, including the changes wrought by Spanish conquest and Catholic religious indoctrination. Again, Eisenstein was enthralled by the spectacle of near-naked, sweating, muscular youth.

It was during his European, American and Mexican sojourns that Sergei Eisenstein came out of the closet. His homosexuality had been a secret in Soviet Russia, where, had it become known, it would have destroyed his career and probably led to his imprisonment and death. Back in the U.S.S.R., however, Eisenstein sought refuge in a classic charade: He got married. His wife was his long-time assistant and friend, Pera Attasheva. They married in 1938, but never lived together.

On his return to Moscow in 1933, Eisenstein suffered a nervous breakdown. One after another, his ideas for projects were rejected. Suddenly, Eisenstein was accused of "Western decadence." An article in "Pravda," written by Boris Shumyatsky, the head of Soviet film production, charged Eisenstein with "misusing his creative opportunity." In January 1935, Eisenstein was criticized for being politically deviant at the All-Union Conference of Cinema Workers. But despite the threates, Eisenstein was allowed to start work on his next film, "Bezhin Meadow."

"Bezhin Meadow" was designed to celebrate the Young Pioneers -- an outfit similar to the Boy Scouts (but more like the Hitler Youth) designed to create and sell the image of the "new Soviet youth" (boys in particular). The plot, based on a true story, concerns a boy named Stepok who escapes from his psychotic father (who has already murdered his mother) to become a heroic Young Pioneer leader. Stepok helps his village defeat a group of saboteurs out to destroy the harvest of the collective farm. But while easily defeating these villains, the boy is unable to escape his father -- who murders him. As a result, instead of a tale of Soviet triumph, the film becomes rural domestic tragedy.

But on March 17, 1937, production on "Bezhin Meadow" was halted by the Central Adminstration of the Cinema Industry. The film was eventually banned.

Eisenstein himself later issued a statement rejecting his aesthetic principles of montage and expressing his intention to make only realistic films. In 1945, the last surviving print of "Bezhin Meadow" was destroyed (the Soviets burned it outright, but claimed a Nazi bombing raid had destroyed it). In 1968, Eisenstein's widow, Pera Attasheva, claimed to have found editing cuts of the film. They were spliced together, and a film that was part outtakes and part photographic stills created that Attasheva and Alexandrov claim are very close to the original.

It is clear that Eisenstein's admission of guilt and rejection of montage was not honest but rather issued only to ensure his survival. It worked, in that it enabled Eisentein to keep making films. Eisenstein now began teaching at the Moscow Film School. Despite occasional attacks by critics (who accused him of "intellectualism"), Eisenstein rehabilitated himself. He was eventually appointed to be head of MosFilm.

There, after nearly eight years away from the camera, Eisenstein created two final masterpieces. The first was the medieval epic "Alexander Nevsky." Filmed in 1938 accordance with Stalin's policy of glorifying Russian heroes, the film is a triumph of collectivism. With a score written by the Russian composer Sergei Prokofiev, the film combined images and music into a single rhythmic unity. The film follows the story of Prince Alexander Nevsky's heroic defense of Russia against invading Teutonic Knights in 1242. The final battle sequence on the ice of Lake Piepus is magnificent in its visual splendor.

Throughout "Alexander Nevsky," Eisenstein experiments with imagery. Most notable is his experiment with "biomorphism" -- the use of line and images that mimic biological forms. The Russian troops wear chainmail, which molds itself to their bodies. They attack in undulating waves, rather than straight lines. In contrast, the Teutonic Knights wear white tunics that are rigid and square and hide all curves and suggestion of human form. They attack in straight lines, and their shields are rectangular and imprinted with the straight-line Christian cross.

But if "Alexander Nevsky" proved anything, it was that Eisenstein had abandoned montage in favor of "epic" film-making.

On February 1, 1939, Sergei Eisenstein was awarded the Order of Lenin for "Alexander Nevsky." But following the signing of the non-aggression treaty between the USSR and Germany, "Alexander Nevsky" was quietly shelved.

Eisenstein's film-making was interrupted by the start of World War II. With a need for Soviet authorities to bolster public morale, Eisenstein began work on his last film, "Ivan the Terrible."

In 1941, Eisenstein was ordered to direct a three-part film glorifying the psychopathic, murderous, 16th-century Russian czar Ivan IV (Ivan the Terrible), whom Stalin admired. For the film, Eisenstein drew upon his early interest in Japanese Kabuki theatre and Noh drama and their use of masks. Rather than being a war movie on a grand scale, it is a highly stylized, personal film about one of Russia's great leaders.

Ivan the Terrible was a man of huge contradictions: A man of God who personally tortured his victims and beat his own son to death; a despot who often behaved like a coward (asking his ally, Elizabeth I of England, for asylum); a man who believed himself chosen to save the souls of his people, but who brutally put thousands to death in carefully orchestrated purges.

Born in 1530, Ivan was three years old when he inherited the Russian throne following his father's death. At the age of seven, his mother was poisoned by nobles at court. By his early teens, he was already showing signs of psychosis (such as the torturing of live animals). Ivan was crowned Russia's first czar at the age of 17. Three weeks later he married, having chosen his bride in a national virgin competition.

Ivan launched a war against Russia's traditional enemy -- the Tatars of the Ukraine, Crimea and Kazakhstan. Showing no mercy to this nomadic Muslim people, he slaughtered half their population and destroyed their cultural heritage. Ivan's conquest of Kazakhstan and Siberia gave birth to a personality cult glorifying him as a Russian Orthodox crusader.

Ivan then established a bodyguard that has been described as Russia's first "secret police" -- the Oprichniki, a religious brotherhood sworn to protecting the czar. In reality, they were marauding thugs, ready to commit any crime in the czar's name.

Ivan's subsequent rule was tyrannical. He imprisoned tens of thousands, often jailing whole families (even children) as well as servants and peasants. More than 3,000 people lost their lives in Ivan's attack on Novgorod alone. In a fit of rage, Ivan beat his son dead with his staff. Eventually driven mad with sorrow and guilt, Ivan made a sudden and deep reconversion to Christianity before his death. Ivan became a monk and took the name Jonah. He was buried in his monk's habit in the hope of winning forgiveness for his multitude of crimes.

The style of "Ivan the Terrible" is sharply different from anything Eisenstein had tried, alternating brief spurts of action with carefully composed chiaroscuro (the use of light and dark to highlight images). The majority of shots are meticulously composed like a paintings from the Old Masters, and are full of elaborate costumes and baroque sets. The editing is very static, but the detailed composition of each shot keeps the film from feeling slow. Dramatic gestures and intricate blocking replace montage, adding to the melodrama and tension of the narrative. Prokofiev once again scored the film, and his music helps provide a feeling of drama and movement.

"Ivan the Terrible" proved to be a massive effort, one which forced Eisenstein to break the film into two parts. Part 1 -- completed in 1943 -- deals with Ivan's life: his coronation, marriage, battles, illness and the beginning of his fight against the Boyars. Part 2 -- completed in 1946 -- has a much different pace and tone, with Alexander being far more reactive. Two reels of Part 2 are in color -- the only time Eisenstein worked with color -- and are quite vibrant.

"Ivan the Terrible, Part 1" was an enormous success, and Eisenstein was awarded the Stalin Prize for the film. At the award ceremony for Part 1, Eisenstein suffered his first heart attack.

It was the perceived weakness of character in Part 2 (Ivan's murderousness and Christian conversion) as well as a negative portrayal of the secret police that lead "Ivan the Terrible, Part 2" to be banned by the Communist Party. Eisenstein was called to Moscow in February 1947. At a meeting with Soviet premier Josef Stalin, Andrei Zhdanov (who founded the Union of Soviet Writers and the Cominform, and created the doctrine of "Socialist Realism"), foreign minister Vyacheslav Molotov and actor Nikolai Cherkasov, Eisenstein was accused of a host of political improprieties. Minutes of the meeting, which surfaced in 1996, quote Stalin: "The chief defect in their work is failure to study subject matter... Producer Eisenstein betrayed ignorance of historical facts in the second series of Ivan Grozny [Ivan the Terrible], depicting Ivan Grozny's progressive army, the oprichniki, as a gang of degenerates reminiscent of the American Ku Klux Klan. Ivan Grozny, a man of strong will and character, is shown as a spineless weakling, as a Hamlet type... One of the fundamental reasons for the production of worthless films is the lack of knowledge of subject matter and the lighthearted attitude of scenario writers and producers to their work. ... Art workers must realise that those who continue to take an irresponsible, lighthearted attitude to their work, may well find themselves superfluous and outside the ranks of progressive Soviet art, for the cultural requirements and demands of the Soviet theatregoer have developed and the Party and Government will continue to cultivate among the people good taste and encourage exacting demands on works of art."

Eisenstein promised to study Ivan the Terrible's history more closely, to make changes in the appearance of costumes and other details, and to portray Ivan the Terrible more powerfully and decisively. But it is clear that he never really intended to re-shoot the picture. Part of what may have saved him is his admission during the meeting with Stalin that he had been ill due to his heart attack. Stalin seemed visibly shaken by the thought that Eisenstein might not be able to complete the trilogy. Despite the Communist Party's attacks on him, Eisenstein remained Stalin's favorite film-maker.

As filming got under way for the third part of "Ivan the Terrible," Eisenstein died on February 11, 1948 -- a few days after his 50th birthday.

Shortly afterward, Soviet authorities banned "Ivan the Terrible, Part 2" for being a critical allegory on Stalin's rein of terror. The film would stay banned for 10 years, until after Stalin's death.

Bill 'n' Opus in 2004.

Two for America.

I read "Pompeii" by Robert Harris. It's gotten great reviews in the "New York Times" and "Washington Post," among other places.

In truth, I felt it was a fluffy read. The book is actually quite short, really, and moves along very quickly. The plot follows three days in the life of Attilius, a newly appointed engineer overseeing the southern end of an aqueduct that brought water from a reservoir fed by the Serino River.

Don't try to find it on a map. The goddamn motherfucking Italians don't have ANY maps online. Not a single fucking one. River Serino? Never fucking heard of it. I searched for three MOTHERFUCKING GODDAMN HOURS trying to find any pissant map that showed this river. Forget it.

God alone knows where the reservoir would be. Plenty of people talk about it, but they refuse to show where it is on a motherfucking goddamn simple map.

Half the aqueduct went east, to Beneventum. Half went west, around the northern end of Vesuvius to Naples, then following the headland in a curve south to Posillipo, then north again to Pozzuolli, then arcing south again to Misenum on the tip of the peninsula.

In the book, this is called the Aqua Augusta. Don't get it confused with a similar, more famous aqueduct near Rome itself.

The book is a quick read. I could have done it in 6 or 7 hours, less if I'd rushed. (I read it mostly at night. I've got a Pavlovian response to reading now: Crack open a book, wherever I am, and I fall asleep.) The plot moves along fairly quickly, too.

The first 60 pages of the book involve the introduction of the main character, Attilius, and his gang of rough-and-tumble workers. It moves fairly slowly, which I thought helped introduce me to this very different world of culture, law and attitudes. Harris keeps the exposition down to a minimum, which helps keep the reader in the world of Rome in the year 79 A.D.

But then the book stumbles a bit. The book's plot starts moving forward very quickly. The events of the book take place over a three-day period surrounding the eruption of Mount Vesuvius -- the famous eruption that destroyed the city of Pompeii. But I wish Harris had taken more trouble to extend the events of the book so that the reader received a greater introduction to ancient Rome. I understand why, once events are set in motion, the plot must career forward. After all, Harris is dealing with real facts. It is a real fact that the summer of 79 A.D. was a scorcher and drought in Italy. It is a real fact that, had the Aqua August gone dry due to a break in the line cause by Vesuvian earthquakes, the cities of Misenum, Pozzuolli and Posillipo would have had to have had the water restored within 49-72 hours or riots would have erupted. It's also a fact that Vesuvius erupted on a give day and at a given time.

But that said, why couldn't Harris have had Attillius arrive a week, a month earlier? Why so little time to meet the character and get to know ancient Roman life?

I also worry about the way the book depicts slavery. The book relies on a number of actual events that occurred in ancient Rome. For example, the freedman Ampliatus feeds one of his slaves to the eels in his fish-ponds. Ampliatus had "heard" that the Roman aristocrat Vedius Pollio had fed clumsy servants to his eels (a true story, by the way). It is also clear that Ampliatus has slept with both his male owner (who homosexually raped him numerous times and fell in love with him, which is why he freed Ampliatus) and his female owner (Taedia Secunda). Having sex with the female head of the house would have been a horrible social crime for the woman. Later in the book, we find that the woman has been sold into slavery and that Ampliatus has purchased her and has forced her into prostitution (and he's still fucking her, further humiliating her).

The problem here is that one really has to wonder if the version of slavery sold to us in books like "Pompeii" is real or not. In Aaron Travis' short story, "Slave," a Roman master, Fabius, sexually abuses his Jewish slave, Jonah, for 10 years. At one point, he devises a donkey cart to which he hitches the young, muscular, well-hung boy. Fabius has a long rod placed on a fulcrum. On one end of the rod, he places a large stone dildo. He has the dildo thrust up the boy's ass. The other end of the rod he has in his hand. He has Jonah pull the cart about the large Roman farm estate. Whenever the boy needs some encouragement to move faster, Fabius pushes down on the rod -- and the dildo rams itself deeper and more violently into the boy's anus. In another scene, Fabius refuses to let young, horny Jonah masturbate for more than 60 days. Jonah is tied to his bed at night, and during the day is watched like a hawk. Finally, Fabius has Jonah strung up by his wrists in the middle of a cold, marble room so that Jonah can only sand on tiptoe. Fabius then applies stinging beetles to Jonah's penis. The combination of pain and erection induce Jonah to have orgasm after orgasm.

Now, that just can't be real. While Roman masters had complete ownership over their slaves, it just seems unlikely that the social strictures governing Roman life would have led any Roman master to have contemplated the sexual abuses that Aaron Travis has his Roman heap upon his slave.

Similarly, one has to wonder just how realistic it would have been for a Roman woman, a citizen of Rome, living in a small town like Pompeii, to have taken a male slave into her bed. It just doesn't seem likely.

Additionally, Harris does not elaborate on just how Taedia Secunda becomes a slave. Popidius, her son, is a friend of Ampliatus. Did Popidius sell his mother into slavery? Or did his father sell her? (One has to assume that Popidius' father caught his wife having sex with the young slave, and subsequently sold her into slavery. That seems unlikely, given his later favorable treatment of Ampliatus. But if Popidius did sell his own mother into slavery, it seems highly unlikely that he would later try to rescue her (as he does in the book). To a Roman, a family member sold into slavery would have become as someone dead. Slavery made violable the Roman body, and that was the height of shame and disaster.

At any rate, the book speeds along to its final conclusion. Much of what happens in the book is taken from real life: Rectina the senator's wife did indeed beg Pliny the Elder to come to her aid and save her library. Pliny the Elder did indeed die on the shore at Stabiae after his trireme was force ashored by the new island of pumice that formed in the Bay of Naples. Pliny the Younger did survive the eruption of Pompeii by staying behind in Misenum.

It's not that the plot is bad in "Pompeii." It's that Robert Harris' writing style is so formless. This is a book that could have been written by anyone. The sentences are workman-like and stolid. The writing is perfunctory. There isn't any real attempt to describe things in unique or moving ways. There isn't any real attempt to make you feel for the people in the book (whether vile or saintly).

And so I finished "Pompeii" with some real dissatisfaction. I'd hoped for a real ball-buster of a historical novel, replete with deep insight into ancient Rome, smart observations about character and motive, wonderful plot twists, and characters I really cared about. I didn't get it, sadly.

I classify "Pompeii" as one of those books you read in an airport or while traveling. It's a good way to spend your time while trapped on a plane, but you wouldn't want to read it if you had something better to do.

Had a vivid dream last night about a boy I knew in junior high. His name was Kurt. He was very tall, dark, handsome. Had jet black, swept-back, thick hair. A huge penis. Big low-hangers. Full, thick, bushy black pubes. Somewhat athletic. Very quiet, but sexily quiet. One of those boys who didn't have much to say, but was smouldering hot.

I first saw him naked in the showers in gym. I was in one of the far rear showers, with an overweight friend. Neither of us like gym shower-time much. Kurt came into my shower, and seemed surprised to see someone that far back. I think he was hoping to find a shower where his sweet, tall, well-shaped body and his huge penis wouldn't be seen.

My mouth dropped open when I saw how big his cock was.

He got embarrassed, clapped his hands over his cock and balls, and moved to the shower. I was toweling off, and had no excuse to hang around and stare at him.

That memory formed my dream last night.

I woke this morning with the bedsheets soaked with semen. Soaked.

Oh Kurt... What could have been, if you'd been my lover.

I finally got "Abafana," Stef de Klerk's new book of Xhosa tribesmen. It's............not what I expected. The photography is simply superb. What a talent. The men are...........handsome. Gym-built (which is weird). And not hung one damn bit.

I also got Clifford Baker's "Naked Asia." Not that impressive. Lots of semi-nude and non-nude photos. Lots of pages with one small image off-center on a large, white page. NOT HAPPY WITH THAT AT ALL. It's a real step downward from his previous work in "Edition Euros" years ago. I also wonder if maybe Baker isn't just a little too close to his subject matter. Lots of images of the same guy, over and over. Boyfriend, I wonder?

I sent away for imagepod's "Walter Kundczic: Champion Studiso."

HOLY SHIT, IS THIS A FUCKING IMPRESSIVE BOOK OR WHAT?????????????????????????

Almost 350 pages of photos!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh.

My.

God.

I am simply blown away by the sheer volume -- and amazing quality -- of these photos. And there is a superb autobiographical entry at the beginning by Kundczic himself.

I am astounded. Simply astounded.

I love this book.

There used to be a gigantically hung black gay porn star by the name of Bam. He was tall, skinny as a rail, not very handsome, and bald. But he had a gi-normous penis. It had to be at least 9 of not 10 inches long. Cut. Never very hard. But it was huge. Miniscule cumshot. But that cock was huge.

Did I mention that cock was huge?

Bam was hugely popular, then disappeared. He claimed he was straight, married, the works. He claimed he was sick of "being seen as gay." Normally silent on screen and in print, Bam made one or two statements about retiring and then did so.

Then, in 2003, he made his straight porn debut. The girls loved him, as he not only had a huge cock (which tended to get very, very hard around women) but he treated them right. He wasn't a misogynist. He actually got off on pleasuring a woman. He started using the nom de pron "Mr. Bigg." He had gotten a number of arms, torso and leg tattoos as well.

Around September of 2003, the straight porn world turned on Bam/Mr. Bigg. It does this to male stars who threaten the power structure. Frank Towers (gay porn's Mark Slade) was another who the girls just loved. But the popularity of the Frank Towers/Mark Slades of the world threaten the misogynists who run Extreme Associates, Evil Angel, Elegant Angel, Max Hardcore, and the like. Straight porn's girls have power; they are paid upwards of $5,000 per movie, while the male talent struggle with $500 per film. If the girls ever decided they no longer wanted a Nacho Vidal or Van Damage putting them through the wringer, then these guys would be shit outta luck.

So they had to take down Bam/Mr. Bigg.

The odd thing is that Bam used to have an advice column in "Black Inches" magazine. He'd answer readers' letters and offer tidbits of advice, interspersed with sexual comments. And a few new photos of Bam would run alongside the letters.

Interestingly, Bam is still running his advice column in "Black Inches." I know. I just picked up the latest issue.

That's insane. Look, I don't like straight porn's homophobia any more than anyone else. I would just as soon decapitate the phobes and misogynists in straight porn and use their brains to paint my house. But you gotta be some kinda stupid to keep running your advice column in a gay porn magazine when you are locked in a battle like that.

It's just stupid.

I've been reading a three-volume history of the New Deal (1932-1936). And the author raised the issue of "going off the gold standard."

What the...???

William Jennings Bryan said, "You shall not crucify this people on a cross of gold." This Democratic presidential candidate, who campaigned many times for the presidency between 1880 and 1920, said that. It is a famous saying. He wanted American on the "silver standard."

What does that mean: "Silver standard"...."gold standard"...."paper standard"?

Here goes:

In the beginning, there was bartering. Two people would make a direct exchange: Food for clothes. However, bartering is inefficient. Say that I want your bread. I offer furs. But you want wine, not furs. I have to find someone with wine who needs my furs. That may be a hard thing to do.

Money solves this problem.

But what should the money be made out of? If it is made out of something common -- say, rocks -- then we run into problems. You offer bread for sale. I pick up a rock, and offer one rock. But someone else picks up two rocks. A third person picks up five rocks. This is the essence of inflation: There is too much money available. So, in early economies, this is why money was almost always made out of something rare, like silver or gold. One could choose something hard to forge, like an intricately carved metal disk. But now the money is so hard to make, it will be difficult to make more of it if the economy expands and there is a greater need for money. Make the money out of something intrinsically rare, like gold, and you solve the problem -- because even though gold is scare, it's not rare.

But money can't be too rare, or the economy shuts down. Say that money is represented by one gold coin. Money is rare. And so you'll offer your loaf of bread for one gold coin. I have to offer all the money I own in order to get just one small thing. In return, the baker has to offer all the money he now owns in order to get my furs. The economy is barely moving! Making sure there is enough money for the economy to function is the other pitfall to avoid.

Thus, the amount of money has to be just right -- not too much, but not too little.

But what happens if the economy grows so much that even gold coins are scarce?

Paper money is the answer. Instead of making the money itself out of gold, let's say that I take all the gold coins I can find -- 1 million of them -- and put them in a vault. Then I issue a piece of paper, and call each piece of paper a "dollar." Each piece of paper represents 1 gold coin. I could issue "one million dollars" (one million pieces of paper, with a face value of one gold coin each). If a loaf of bread costs one unit of work, and a buyer can exchange one gold coin for one unit of work, then the buyer need only give "one dollar" for a loaf of bread.

This is the "gold standard." Money literally represents something -- gold bullion held by the government. We don't have to use gold, of course. We could use silver, platinum, uranium...anything.

But let's say we are using gold. How much gold does "one dollar" buy? We could let the marketplace set the price of gold. If the government buys more gold, this makes gold on the market increasingly rare. Gold prices go up, and so does the value of my dollar. If the government sells gold on the open market, then gold prices fall -- and we get inflation.

But let's say that the government sells all the gold it has. Now it's stuck. The government can't manipulate the value of money. It couldn't do anything if a recession hit.

Often, governments on the gold standard decide not to permit gold to be bought or sold. They buy a certain amount, to prop up gold prices. Then they sit on it. To make sure that others can't buy lots of gold and artificially increase the value of the dollar, they make it illegal for the average citizen to own gold. Thus, the price of gold stays stable.

Let's say that we've been humming along on the gold standard for 100 years. Let's say, too, that farmers have taken out loans to buy tractors and plows and other machinery. But they are so successful at farming that there's too much grain on the market. Farm prices fall. Farmers can't make their loan payments. What do we do?

One answer is to inflate the currency. Say $10,000 bought one tractor in Year 1. That tractor could grow 10,000 bushels of wheat, which are worth $1 each. But in Year 2, due to inflation, one bushel of wheat is now worth $5. I need to only sell 2,000 bushels of wheat. But I only need to pay the bank back $10,000. Inflation makes the economic position of creditors much worse, see? The value of the money they are getting paid with is less than the value of the money they loaned out.

This is what William Jennings Bryant wanted. Go off the gold standard, and go on the silver standard. Since silver is less rare than gold, this will mean that the value of the money falls. It takes more dollars to buy things. Farmers get more dollars, and pay off the bank with "cheap money."

Because inflation is politically tempting, Bryant knew that you can't just print more money. It gets out of hand. So instead, Bryant proposed moving to the silver standard -- something you could do only once. Bryant proposed that one dollar equal 16 ounces of silver. (Setting the "ratio" higher or lower is another way of inflating or deflating the value of money.) This would help farmers -- and Bryant was a proponent of the family farmer and the common man against the creditors (banks, investors, etc.).

In normal times, I spend -- and it becomes your earnings. You spend -- and your spending becomes my earnings. But let's say that for some reason, you think hard times are coming. So you decided to save your money. Because I am depending on your spending, I respond by saving, also. The result is a drop in economic activity. If it goes far enough, I might not have enough money to employ people. This worsens the trend. Soon, we get a "recession."

Keynesian monetary policy calls for expanding the money supply (printing more dollars).

But what if we are on the gold standard? How can we get out of a recession? We can't mine more gold. What do we do?

"Gold bugs" -- those who like the gold standard -- argue that the value of money will automatically adjust itself. Here's how it works: Suppose three people live in a village, and they have 100 coins among them. Suppose this gold represents 100 units of work. A loaf of bread may require five units of work, and therefore cost five coins. Now suppose that their economy grows to 120 units of work. There are two ways for the money supply to adjust to this new activity. The villagers could simply make 20 more coins. Or they could let the value of the coins increase. Say the extra 20 units of work is being produced by one villager. He is eager to sell his product, and the other two are eager to buy it. But no one can afford to buy, because there is insufficient money. So the village artificially "creates" money by lowering the prices for all goods. For example, a loaf of bread still requires five units of work, but the seller lowers the price from five to four coins. The extra coin can now be used to purchase of the product. This process is called deflation.

Prices do indeed inflate and deflate in this way. The problem is that deflation is terribly inefficient. In real economies, prices tend to be "sticky" -- that is, enormously resistant to change in a downward direction. There are several reasons for price stickiness. One is psychological -- people hate to cut their prices and wages. Another is that salaries and wages are often locked into contracts. But perhaps the most important reason is that in a big and complex economy, people just don't realize when goods start becoming plentiful; the glut may have to reach crisis proportions before people notice and take action.

Economists have found it much faster and simpler (more efficient!) to expand the money supply and cut the recession short.

There are other ways to expand the money supply than just printing more dollars.

Let's say that a bank has a big pile of gold coins. The bank issues one dollar for each gold coin. the banker notices that people are not visiting his bank very frequently to exchange paper money for gold. His gold is just sitting around. So he gets a bright idea: He'll print up some new dollars. The new dollars are not backed up by actual gold reserves. But the banker can get away with this because only a percentage of money-bearers come in on a given day asking for gold. Now the bank is a "trust," because people must now "trust" that the banker will have the gold reserves to cover their withdrawals.

Of course, if too many people come in at once demanding gold, the bank is out of luck. Experience may teach the bank that it will need to keep a "reserve" of 1 gold coin for every 3 "dollars" in circulation. Any more pieces of paper money in circulation, and the bank might not be able to cover withdrawals. This is a somewhat risky business because it creates the possibility of a "run on the bank" -- people panic and want more gold than the bank has in actual reserve.

Let's say, too, that the government decides to regulate "reserves." Let's say that the government says a bank has to have 15% reserves (15 coins for every 100 dollars in existence). But if the government wants to expand the money supply, it can lower the reserve requirement -- say, to 10%. This expands the amount of dollars the bank can print.

There are other economic consequences to a gold standard. Suppose Britain runs up a trade deficit with the U.S. and promptly pays in gold. The U.S. money supply would expand (more gold in the U.S. means more dollars can be printed), and its economy would experience a mixture of inflation and growth. Conversely, the British money supply would shrink. Theoretically, this should result in deflation. But in practice, it resulted in widespread unemployment due to price stickiness. Therefore, outflows of gold from a country were often very painful to its economy. And when people learn that gold is leaving a country, bank run often occur (as people try to withdraw their gold before it runs out).

A country could place restrictions on "convertibility" (the ability to exchange a piece of paper money for gold) or it could issue "non-convertible" paper money. But this goes against the very reasons why a country would be on the gold standard in the first place.

A country could "insure" bank deposits, too. This is what the U.S. did in the 1930s. In creating the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation (FDIC), the federal government told consumers that it would make good any deposit up to $100,000. This helped to stop bank runs, because depositers knew that there would always be enough either in the bank or coming from the federal government to make good any deposit under $100,000.

Odd how a name can just bring up a flood of memories.

I was reading the "Los Angeles Times" today. There was an article about how California Teachers Association president John Hein had a personal tie to Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger. This led Hein to break with all progressives in the state and agreed to $2 billion in education cuts; in return, Arnie agreed not to seek repeal of Prop. 48 -- the California constitutional provision that guarantees education an annual percentage increase in funds (based on rising student population and inflation).

Hein. That name brought me back...

A kid in junior high had that last name. A boy with strawberry blond hair. Short. Compact. Lean and muscular. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful cock and balls and pubes. Magnificent between his legs. Open personality. Cute face. Milky, perfect skin.

I masturbated furiously over him whenever I saw him naked in gym class.

50 Cent is starting up his own straight porn studio.

Snoop Dogg and and Ice-T have funded, lent their names to and appeared (non-sexually) in porn videos. (Both were nominated for non-sex awards at Adult Video News' heterosexual awards show.) Vince Neil is doing it, too.

Vince Neil. Ugh. Now, if Tommy Lee did porn with that huge 9-incher of his...

Does this mean porn is completely mainstream now? Dogg was popular enough when he got into porn. And Ice-T may not be as popular as he once was, but he has lasted -- whereas it's not clear 50 Cent will. Still...

But isn't it odd that the Christian fascists don't go after black men doing porn?

The fundies can't touch black men in porn. It'd come off as racist, at a time when they are openly courting the black vote. And besides, it's like Eldridge Cleaver said in "Soul on Ice" about the "myth of the hypersexual black male." Fundies have racist ideas about black men, and black men in porn fit that idea. For them to rant and rage against black men in porn would be to deny the existence of the myth that they have worked so hard to believe in and perpetuate.

Speaking of black men: I picked up my first gay porn magazine in almost 2 years. I used to buy every magazine every month, but gave up my collecting habit when I had to start saving money for my move to my current apartment in early 2002. I got "Black Inches." Now, I used to dislike a lot of gay black porn stars. They were either frauds like Bobby Blake (bodybuilders who'd open their mouths and remove the mystery) or big ol' queens. Rare was the Gene LaMar -- nicely built, hung, and looking like a black man you'd see on the street. Too many of the models, even in "Black Inches," used to have very freaky looks. Dyke -- one of their most popular models due to his 12" cock -- had the most weird, bizarre look of them all. He had rather buggy, bedroom eyes to begin with and was not a handsome man. But he made his look even worse by adding a million huge body-piercings, lots of ugly tattoos, and a weird hair-style.

But in today's issue, the men all look normal. Like the guys I see (and get horrible erections over) on the bus every day. Impressive.

Doesn't look good for films in 2004. The only ones I care about are "Spider-Man 2," "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban" and "Troy."

And I wonder about "Troy." There were scads of rumors from the set about Brad Pitt's refusal to really get into the role, temper tantrums, ego battles, etc. I don't think Pitt is much of an actor. He's way too fucked up, emotionally.

I think it's going to be a dry winter, with a good summer. Winter, at least, looks awful with a few exceptions. Let's review, class:


JANUARY

Chasing Liberty (Mandy Moore, Michael Goode) – Ugh. Don’t get me started. Goode looks like he's 30. I wanna rip Moore's eyeballs out. I know the guy who directed several of her videos (before being fired), and he says she's as smart as a box of hair.

Japanese Story (Toni Colette) – Decent. Colette is just astounding in everything she does, from the perfect "Muriel’s Wedding" to "The Sixth Sense." The movie is about an Australian businesswoman who has to spend six weeks touring Oz with a Japanese businessman. As she gets to know him, she realizes the stereotype she has of Japanese men is all wrong, and they fall in love.

My Baby's Daddy (Anthony Anderson, Michael Imperioli, Eddie Griffin) – Notice they aren't pushing Griffin in the ads as the big star of this film. Maybe it's because all of his films have tanked, badly. Someone could gut Anderson tomorrow, and I wouldn't shed a tear for this so-called "comedian.' And Imperioli can't act outside his one good role (on "The Sopranos").

Aileen: The Life and Death of a Serial Killer (documentary) – Timed to coincide with the release of "Monster," this is director Nick Broomfield's second doc about Aileen Wuornos. This doc follows Broomfield's attempts to get Wuornos' her death penalty commuted to life. Eh. People laud Broomfield for becoming so involved with his subjects that he injects himself into the movie. But I've never liked his stuff in the past.

Along Came Polly (Ben Stiller, Jennifer Aniston) – More of the same from Ben Stiller, who can't play anything except his "Something About Mary" schtick. Aniston is about as funny as colon cancer.

Torque (Ice Cube, Martin Henderson) – "The Fast and the Furious" on motorcycles, from the director of that film. Better than "Biker Boyz," but will that's just saying it's atrocious instead of very atrocious.

Teacher's Pet (animated; voices of Nathan Lane, Shawn Fleming) – Based on the (canceled) Disney Channel show about a talking dog who disguises himself as a boy in order to attend school. Supposed to have an awesome animation, but flat story-line.

Osama (foreign film) – Financed by the Iranian government, this film is set in Afghanistan during the years of the Taliban. A mother disguises her daughter as a boy, so the girl can get work and help her family eat.

The Butterfly Effect (Ashton Kutcher, Amy Smart) – When a college student realizes he can go back in time just by thinking about it, he does in order to prevent his girlfriend's death. Only, every time he makes a change, worse things happen. The movie trailer gives away every single plot point in the film. In the end, the boy commits suicide and everything goes back to the way it was -- only he's now dead. (Cue "Twilight Zone" music.) Bleah. (And wasn't this a "Simpsons" Halloween episode???)

Win a Date with Tad Hamilton! (Topher Grace, Josh Duhamel, Kate Bosworth) – When a drunken but handsome teen idol needs to clean up his act, the movie studio decides to let girls all over America win a date with him (so he can be a gentleman on the date). Bosworth wins. She falls in love with Duhamel, and he with her. Only, Grace really loves her. Meanwhile, their mutual female friend tries to counsel them all. Grace is puny and wimpy, while Duhamel is muscular and butch. Guess how this one turns out? If you can't guess in the first three minutes, you're a potato.

Mindhunters (LL Cool J, Val Kilmer, Christian Slater) – FBI agents in the pscyh unit think a serial killer is one of their own. Christian Slater put down the bottle long enough to do this film. LL Cool J thinks acting is ripping his shirt off and showing his pecs to everyone. Val Kilmer hasn't done good work since "Batman Returns."

Dirt (Tracy Fraim, Michael Covert, Tara Chocol) – Two trailer-park mama's boys seek a woman to take care of them after their mother dies. They end up with Chocol, a black woman with heaps of attitude who is fleeing her abusive, drug-dealing black husband. Hilarity ensues. Or not.

Touching the Void (doc) – Documentary about two American climbers who became trapped on a mountain Peru and had to survive for two weeks on the side of a cliff. BOR-ing.

The Big Bounce (Owen Wilson, Morgan Freeman, Gary Sinise, Sara Foster) – A surfer (Wilson) heads to Hawaii to care for a judge (Freeman), and falls for a local girl (Foster) who is the lover of a real-estate tycoon (Sinise) who is the judge's main rival. Does he stay true to his boss or the love of his heart? Called a "sexy film noir comedy," this has about as much chance of working as Bush's tax cut.

The Perfect Score (Scarlett Johanssen, et al.) – Seven students (a black, a jock, a stoner, a cheerleader...) steal the answers to the SAT. The cast is right out of James Watt's "two blacks, a fag, a Jew and a cripple" line, and the plot is straight out of "Cheaters." Brian Robbins, formerly the "bully with a heart of gold" on "Head of the Class" and now a producer for Nickolodeon ("The Amanda Show," "All That") and WB ("Smallville") directs.

You Got Served (Marques Houston, Omarion, Raz B, et al.) – Two black guys get a chance to open a record studio, only they must win a dance contest first. Then the local street-dancers/thugs enter and challenge them to it. Aimed directly at black men, age 11-30.

On the Run (Lucas Belvaux, Catherine Frot) – An ex-60s radical escapes from prison, hooks up with his sexy ex-lover and heads for Grenoble to settle some old scores, all while pursued by an obsessed cop. Belvaux wrote, directed and starred in this, the first of three films (this is a thriller, the second is a comedy, the third is a human drama). Maybe...

Latter Days (Steve Sandvoss, Wes Ramsey) – When a handsome Mormon missionary meets a promiscuous gay waiter in Los Angeles, sexual and religious crises ensue. Written by the writer of "Sweet Home Alabama," the Mormon Church has tried to get the film banned. It's a decent film, but very manipulative.



FEBRUARY

Barbershop 2 (Cedric the Entertainer, Ice Cube, et al.) – More hijinks at the clip-joint. Aimed directly at black males, 11-30.

Miracle (Kurt Russell, Patricia Clarkson, Nathan West, et al.) – Fictionalized story of the "Miracle on Ice" US vs. USSR hockey game at the Lake Placid Olympics. They're trying to resurrect Russell's career, this time as the crusty old coach. UGH.

Catch That Kid (Kristen Stewart, Jennifer Beals, Sam Robards) – When her father is injured in a mountain-climbing accident, his teenage daughter robs the bank where her mother works in order to finance his operation. Aimed directly at white girls, age 10-22.

The Dreamers (Michael Pitt, Louis Garrel, Eva Green) – Bernardo Bertolucci's new film. An American in Paris in 1968 for the riots falls in with brother-sister twins. He makes love to her, then him, and then finds that the twins are having an incestuous relationship. Dare he join in? The film is getting raves in France, and it's based on a bestselling book there. But no one is sure the aging Bertolucci can pull it off.

The Lost Skeleton of Cadavra (Larry Blamire, Fay Masterson) – An homage to sci-fi flicks of the 50s (right down to the hi-fi mono soundtrack), a scientist and his girlfriend try to track down a skeleton in a haunted cave after a meteor brings the dead back to life. Either very kitschy-cool, or very very very bad. You choose.

An Amazing Couple – Sequel to Belvaux's "On the Run." When her ex-terrorist lover starts to act oddly, a woman hires a private eye to follow him. Is he cheating on her, or just trying to make things romantic for her? The cop pursuing them makes things even wackier.

50 First Dates (Adam Sandler, Drew Barrymore) – A man meets a woman with amnesia, who can't remember anything except what happened today. So, he has to romance her every day, until she falls in love with him. More dreck from Adam Sandler. And a complete rip-off of "Memento." Notice how many films deal with amnesia now?

Kill Bill, Volume 2 (Uma Thurman, et al.) – The Bride is back for more violence. Much more violence. Much, much, much more violence. About as boring as the first one.

Welcome to Mooseport (Gene Hackman, Ray Romano) – A former president moves back to the tiny New Hampshire town where he hails from. He's induced to run for mayor. Only, a local grocer wants to run, too. The race turns ugly fast. Hilarity ensues.

Against the Ropes (Meg Ryan, Omar Epps) – Based on a true story about a female boxer. Isn't Meg Ryan like, oh, I dunno, 75 or 80 years too old for this by now?

Eurotrip (Michelle Trachtenberg, Scott Mechlowicz) – A guy's email buddy invites him to Europe. "He" turns out to be "she," and she turns out to be beautiful, so he and three friends go to meet her. Hilarity ensues, with a zillion celebrity cameos.

The Passion of Christ (James Caviezel, Monica Bellucci) – Mel Gibson's anti-Semitic, anti-Biblical Easter movie.

Twisted (Samuel L. Jackson, Ashley Judd, Andy Garcia) – Third in the series of buddy detective movies these two have made. This time, Judd's ex-boyfriends start dying one by one, the victim of a serial killer. And we find out Judd's own father was a serial killer, a fact which the whole world conspired to hide from her. Yeah, right.

Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights (Diego Luna, Romola Garai) – Sequel to the 80s classic film. This time, an American girl is visiting Cuba on the eve of the revolution and falls for a dancer at a nightclub. Will she stay and risk Castro, or will she flee with her family? (Luna last appeared in "Y Tu Mama Tambien.")

Club Dread – The cast of "Super Troopers" is back. This time, they are at a swinger's club in the Caribbean where a serial killer is knocking off the promiscuous staff one by one. Hilarity ensues.


MARCH

Hidalgo (Viggo Mortensen) – A Pony Express rider and his horse head for Saudi Arabia and a desert race that turns into a round-the-world chase. Not sure just what is going on here ("he goes halfway around the world to find himself"). But it's Disney, so you know it's pablum.

Starsky and Hutch (Ben Stiller, Owen Wilson) – Comedic update of the classic 70s TV show. 90% of the laughs come from the not-so-subtle homosexuality between the two characters and the goofy Snoop Doggy Dogg language ("now wait just a minizzle").

Noi the Albino – Icelandic film about an albino boy who decides to run away in order to escape small-town life. Won a lot of film festival prizes in Europe.

Agent Cody Banks 2 (Frankie Muniz) – At 16, Muniz is a little old to be playing 11-year-olds who become secret agents. Why doesn't he do a teen film? Or does he want people to think he's emasculated?

Spartan (Val Kilmer, William H. Macy) – David Mamet directs this tale about two FBI agents who investigate the kidnapping of the president's daughter, only to discover a deeper crime within the White House itself. I guess the kidnapping isn't crime enough.

The Girl Next Door (Elisha Cuthbert, Emile Hirsch) – A teenage boy fantasizes about his next-door-neighbor, only to later learn she's a famous porn star and really does like him. As happens with all porn stars, they fall for geeks and nerds. Always.

Wilbur Wants to Kill Himself (Jamie Sives, Adrian Rawlins, Shirley Henderson) – Two Scottish boys inherit their father's bookstore. Then a lonely girl comes in one day. Will she help suicidal Wilbur overcome his despair, or will she help him to his final reward?

Knayafim Shvurot (Wings of Eagles) – Israeli film about a woman who tries to hold her family together after the accidental death of her husband. Israel's submission for Best Foreign Language Film in 2003.

Jersey Girl (Ben Affleck, Jennifer Lopez, Liv Tyler) – Oh dear god, NO! Affleck plays a music industry honcho. Lopez is his big-breasted wife. She dies. Affleck gives up his fast-lane life in order to raise his adorable daughter in New Jersey. Only, then he falls in love with video-store owner Liv Tyler. The film was massively re-cut and more than 45 minutes of Affleck and the little girl added in order to prevent a BenLo backlash.

Dawn of the Dead (Sarah Polley, Ving Rhames, Mekhi Pfifer) – Remake of the classic horror flick in which a meteor brings the dead back to life. But supposedly much, much gorier than the original. And who cares?

Ned Kelly (Heath Ledger, Orlando Bloom) – Based on the true story of Ned Kelly, Australia's most notorious outlaw. But so? Why should I go see this? (Does Orlando Bloom get half-naked? I'd see that!)

Taking Lives (Angelina Jolie, Ethan Hawke) – A female FBI profiler is called in by the Canadians to help stop a serial killer who takes on the identity of each of his victims. Really pedantic and pedestrian.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (Jim Carrey, Tom Wilkinson, Kate Winslet) – When a man discovers that his ex-girlfriend has had all memories of their relationship erased from her mind, he decides to get the same treatment. Only, something goes wrong. Now he can't get her out of his mind – literally! Hilarity ensues. Stop me from guffawing.

Scooby-Doo 2: Monsters Unleashed (Freddie Prinze, Jr., Sarah Michelle Gellar, Matthew Lillard) – The original cast is back. A masked villain releases the gang's all-time worst enemies -- the 10,000-Volt Ghost, the Creeper and Captain Cutler -- and they have to nab them all before the world goes kablooey. I have to admit, the first one was cute. And Freddie......oh, Freddie, just come out of that closet!

The Ladykillers (Tom Hanks, Marlon Wayans) – Remake of the 1955 film. A nerdy professor assembles a team of crackerjack thieves to steal a fortune from a casino. They hole up in a little old lady’s home, only to find that the little old lady is out to get their loot -- and she's more than they can handle. Hilarity ensues. A Coen Brothers film.

Shaolin Soccer – A group of Hong Kong kids has to use their Shaolin soccer techniques to win the championship. Long delayed, and the DVD has already been in release for a year now.



APRIL

Hellboy (Ron Perlman) – Based on the comic book. When the Nazis raise a demon to help them win WW2, they are defeated first. The demon wakes up and goes to work for the Allies, helped by a half-amphibian man and a girl who can start fires with her mind. And so?

Home on the Range (animated, with the voices of Judi Dench, Cuba Gooding, Jr., Randy Quaid) – When an eviction notice hits the Little Patch of Heaven farm, the cows defend their turf. Sort of like "Chicken Run," only with cows. The last of Disney's traditionally hand-animated films.

Mean Girls – Comedic version of "thirteen," in which a new girl joins a clique of popular kids at school. But when she falls for the ex-boyfriend of one of the cheerleaders, cruelty breaks out. "Heathers," anyone?

Envy (Ben Stiller, Jack Black) – When a man (Stiller) invents something that makes him rich, his best friend (Black) becomes his archenemy. Hilarity ensues. Someone shoot Ben Stiller before he films again.

United States of Leland (Ryan Gosling, Don Cheadle) – When a boy, Leland (Gosling), murders a child, it's up to his psychiatrist to understand the crime. Gosling (23 years) is way, way too old to be played 15 year old boys.

The Alamo (Dennis Quaid, Jason Patric, Billy Bob Thornton, Emilio Echevarria) – Davey Crockett (Thornton) and Jim Bowie (Patric) lead the Alamo gang against the evil Santa Anna (Echevarria). Big problems in production (Ron Howard essentially abandoned the project six months into post-production).

Walking Tall (The Rock, Johnny Knoxville, Ashley Scott) – Remake of the classic 70s exploitation film about the real-life Sheriff Buford T. Pusser. When a town falls into chaos by a rowdy man (Knoxville), the prodigal son (The Rock) is called in to be sheriff and win the girl. As if The Rock were interested in girls!

Ella Enchanted (Anne Hathaway, Hugh Dancy, Cary Elwes) – A girl in Fairy-Tale Land is accidentally enchanted at birth so that she has to do whatever people tell her to do. She has to break the curse in order to marry Prince Charming. Based on the Newberry award-winning book. I admit, the trailer was hysterically funny.

The Whole Ten Yards (Bruce Willis, Matthew Perry) – Sequel to the previous outing involving the meek neighbor and his ex-Mafia neighbor, only this time Perry's wife is kidnapped and he has to call in Jimmy The Tulip. Someone shove more crystal down Matthew Perry's throat. Maybe he'll be funny this time.

The Punisher (Thomas Jane, John Travolta) – Based on the Marvel comic about the mercenary who takes on evil when his girl is kidnapped. Audiences cheered when the trailer screened prior to "The Hulk," but Travolta apparently is about as good as he was in "Battlefield Earth." And besides -- who saw "The Hulk"? No one. No one's gonna see this one, either.

Doctor Sleep (Goran Visnjic, Paddy Considine, Shirley Henderson) – A hypnotherapist is brought in by Scotland yard to track down yet another serial killer, with the help of the mute girl who escaped his clutches. YET ANOTHER SERIAL KILLER. Is the whole world fucking full of them? Can Hollywood do a film without a macabre serial killer for once?

Man on Fire (Denzel Washington, Christopher Walken, Dakota Fanning) – When a bodyguard falls in love with the young girl he is protecting -- a girl just like his own murdered daughter -- he must track down the outlaw who has taken her captive. The trailer is a complete mess. Gee, just like the movie. (Notice that a black man can't fall for a black child. She has to be white.)

Secret Window (Johnny Depp, John Turturro) – Based on the Stephen King novel about a man who writes a best-seller, only to be stalked by the man who claims he wrote it first. Directed by Dave Koepp ("Stir of Echoes," "X-Men"). But Depp is hardly capable of carrying a film. And why would I care about this film? Why would I want to see it? is there anything which draws me in, here? Nope... Nope...

Without A Paddle (Matthew Lillard, Seth Green, Dax Shepard) – Three friends embark on a canoe trip to find $200,000 in lost treasure. Shepard was the stunt-puller in "Punk'd." Like I'd care.

Godsend (Robert Di Niro, Rebecca Romijn-Stamos, Greg Kinnear) – A couple seek to clone their dead son with the help of a cloning expert. Supposed to be full of psychological horror. But I doubt it. Di Niro doesn't do that too well.

Laws of Attraction (Pierce Brosnan, Julianne Moore) – Two lawyers, life-long best friends, accidentally get married and then must get a divorce. Only, he doesn't want to. Hilarity ensues. Brosnan looks way too long in the tooth for this type of film.

Breakin’ All the Rules (Jamie Foxx, Morris Chestnut, Gabrielle Union) – When a man is dumped by his fiancee, he writes a bestseller how-to manual on how to break up with your skanky girlfriend. Yuk, yuk, yuk. (Isn't this just "How to Dump a Man in Ten Easy Lessons" backward???)

Labels: cinema

Saw "The Return of the King" for the third time. And, for the third time, the audience groaned in agony when ending after ending after ending came. I've seen this film at the Uptown (cinephiles), at the Potomac Yard 16 (suburban whites) and Union Station (ghetto blacks). It's the same everywhere: People just hate the ending of this film.

More and more, I am coming to think that this is a big mistake in the film and will cost Peter Jackson both best director and best picture.