Sunday, November 09, 2008

This hangover was BANANAS!

What a whacky weekend! 

Starting Friday in Brooklyn at Sugarland with DJ Aaron Elvis and Bianca del Rio who judged a dance-off between me and an Asian twink. Somehow I lost despite the fact my interpretive dance included hand stands.  On the upset, a friend clapped my back, "It's the Obama-factor". 

The performer I really should've lost to was a drunk girl from San Diego doing a pole dance on the subway back into Manhattan.  Not only was it a full-car, multiple-pole dance, she added an original song to her not-so-private dance, all of it a variation of her base lyric: "Can't have this pole!" LMAO!  A singing pole dancer?  The rapture is nigh.

Saturday, after two parties in Queens, this queen headed to meet Bam Bam for a loft party in Tribeca. After closing it (of course), the night culminated in Bam Bam getting cited for public urination!  He now has to go to court---it's a "criminal offense"!  If it were me I would've simply zipped up and run, but Bam is sweetly compliant.  The police never even got out of their vehicle!  I mean, if you're going to cite me, bitch, get out of your car and come for me. 

So the weekend was a mad cap, liquor sogged, free for all...kind of like the movie I just watched. Yes, when we got up with a hangover this morning (afternoon?), I went straight for the cure: CARMEN MIRANDA!

Ok, so maybe one person's cure is another person's poison because after the first three minutes of "The Gang's All Here", a Carmen Miranda/Busby Berkeley bonanza, Bam Bam yells, "No more!!!" 

Ok, so maybe it's happened before that I've rented loony old time musicals, prompting him to threaten revocation of privileges to his Netflix DVD queue, but today he rushed his criminal-self to the computer and promptly changed the password on me! 

For that, I'm hiding this film in the house and never returning it!  Lady in the Tutti Frutti Hat will be making random, yet regular recurrences to our television screen!  Let me just tell you about this movie.  It really, ok, it just defies.  First off you see a ship in the NY harbor, and a humongous net of lowered fruit that ends, yes, in Carmen Miranda's head.  

Where we go from there has everything to do with the mad genius/attention deficit suffering Busby Berkeley, who actually never stops moving his camera (that part is not helping the hang over).  And the plot?  Who needs plot? Carmen Miranda is here with plot-free relations to the star of the picture, Alice Faye who may or may not get together with the love interest by the end (she's got a show to do instead).  Aside from that, there are subplots that are touched upon but never completed, like the one about the dowdy older lady who's being blackmailed over the secret that years ago she was a notorious dancer in Paris who went by the name of "Blossom"! Oh, and Carmen Miranda's name in the film?  Dorito.

It gets better. Old Busby completely forgoes wrapping up the plot in favor of....a finale!  It's a musical within a musical (to sell war bonds, people!  For $5,000 a pop!) which starts with Alice Faye wending her way through a dance floor filled with couples of dancing 8 year olds (?!) to sing a number about her great aunt who used to dance the polka in 1880.  You haven't truly enjoyed a hangover until you watch Alice Faye sing in total, misty-eyed earnestness:  "The Polka dance is gone, but the polka dot...the polka dot lives on!" 

That segues, naturally, into several more numbers that have nothing to do with one another except that it is Busby Berekely...and he is having a FIELD DAY.  I particularly enjoy the psychedelic sci-fi number with Star Trek spandex with glowing neon hula hoops.  And let's not forget the gymnast/contortionist/dancer woman who does a hands-free forward flip on repeat. Put the sexually suggestive Berkeley numbers with a charisma-free Benny Goodman and the peer-free Carmen Miranda, and you've got a film like none ever seen before or seen since.  

For just a taste, check out Carmen performing "Lady in the Tutti Frutti Hat".  Please note the amazing lyrics at about 2:09 into this extravaganza (I would love for someone to get me a clip of this bit), where she coos: 

"Some people say I dress too gay but every day I feel so gay and when I'm gay I dress that way...Is something wrong with that? NaaaoooooO!"  

Carmen Miranda, I'm with you.   I mean, I am you.  Er, I'm in love with you! 


Edina Monsoon said...

I don't understand this Public Urination Offence thing in Manhattan. I mean someone can be walking a 200 pound Hound of The Baskervilles on 23rd street in the middle of the day and it can just stand in the middle of the sidewalk and empty its bladder there and then. They don't even attempt to move it towards the gutter. But if a 160 pound person walks up a quiet alley late at night and discreetly pees against a wall, he's a criminal.

You said...

You were robbed in that dance contest. The handstand was sublime. But I preferred your impromptu cartwheels as we made our gay old way from Metropolitan to Sugarland. It's the only civilized way to travel between gay bars.

Dan said...

I discovered your blog after Googling the phrases "The Polka Dance is gone" and "The polka dot lives on"!