Vancouver curator Bill Taylor is owed a debt of thanks
for compiling these seven offerings that are a spectacular display of
ignorance and fear mongering from decades past. Thank goodness those days are
over and lesbians, gays, bisexuals and the transgendered are accepted as
equals by society at large! (Hello there Elsie “just shut up” Wayne and the
Canadian Alliance who prefer the “don’t know, don’t tell doctrine”.)
In Once upon a Honeymoon (directed with a
marvellous sense of fun by dance choreographer Gower Champion) an
eager-to-please angel flits down to Earth (getting a bit of a draft up his
toga: special effects on a $10 budget) to assist a newlywed couple whose
composer-husband must pen a new tune for his employer’s Prima Donna before
ravishing his patient bride in their long overdue honeymoon.
The pixie dust is a hoot (Tinker Bell would be proud)
even if it comes across more like anthrax than magic sparkles. Soon the
wife bursts into song, hubby gets to the double bar and an impromptu dance
sequence is accompanied by their invisible benefactor (well, of course he can
play the piano, duh!).
And what an angel he is, opting to leave the lovers to
themselves, knowing full well that his successful mission will be handsomely
rewarded when he returns to his Heavenly Daddy—or what’s a heaven for?
Bill Brose’s Red Light Green Light, Meeting Strangers,
which followed, had a far different tone, giving stern warnings to the kids
that the only kind of “dangerous strangers” are gay. The fact that most
pedophiles are heterosexual must have been lost on the editing floor.
My favourite of this collection was Soapy The Germ
Fighter. Despite the fact that young Billy’s tub scenes might—in today’s
climate—be censored as kiddie porn there was much to learn: Soap isn’t
for sissies—even Cowboys wash up after a hard day in the saddle—then put
on clean clothes (but don’t shower first) before heading into town; Girls
should wash their hair (discreetly shown doing so in the sink) at least every
two weeks; flies carry germs ON THEIR FEET (this was emphasized
Subliminally, the whole piece came across
(unintentionally, of course—that’s always the most fun) as a different kind
of wet dream where the uninvited sticky stuff can be instantly washed away by
the all-knowing Soapy who’s just waiting be picked up and worked into a
Perversion For Profit is a dozen minutes of
near-facts and bigotry delivered with compelling “authority” by George Putnam,
the “Outstanding News Reporter.” He revels in delivering the dirt on
pornography and how “The Communist Masters of Deceit” are behind everything. That cash is its basis is indisputable, as is its easy availability to adults and
children alike. But his zealousness reminded me of the Bard’s great line
“He doth protest too much, methinks.” I expect George’s research into the
graphic evidence of evil and perversion (the goat didn’t look worried!) was as
extensive as his self-ministrations to his findings were exhaustive. Double
Standards “R” Us.
The set of Anti-Disney Videos was as ridiculous as
they were indicative of the Religious Right’s narrow, self-serving focus. The
evil of providing same-sex benefits to Disney employees was decried; hosting
an annual Gay Day (where the outrageous footage was entertaining and well,
kind of Goofy!) was scorned and swishy voice-overs in animated films (perhaps
it should be renamed The Lion Queen?) were thrown out as valid reasons
for boycotting the world’s biggest entertainment factory.
And furthermore, butts, boobs and questionable activities—there’s a double entendre in anything if you look far enough—have invaded
cartoon features to the point where they’re no better than porno (but what are
the parents to do when dragged to the cinema by their young ones?). That
claim would be the same as reading anything more than good clean fun into the
baths scene in Ben Hur!
In The Report: The Gay Agenda, one-sided reporting
was shown at its best. Spurred on by the economic and “moralsuasion” of
organized religion (but what did Jesus and his twelve disciples do to relieve
their tensions while on the road?), the gay community was vilified with
gusto. With “expert” testimony from two recovered homosexual men (and not
a few “experts” in human behaviour) we learned that there is a cure. Hallelujah!
The “converted” revealed that they had spent considerable
time and effort in their doomed quest to become full-service fags, but they
came across as more unable to move up from one-night stands than born-again
breeders. For them, the quoted mantra: “Today’s conquest is tomorrow’s
competition” may be too close to home.
Still, learning that a shopping bag on the floor of a
public washroom stall indicates that two men are engaging in sex (the bag
hides the second set of feet, didn’t you know?) was a revelation. Can’t wait
for the next sale!
Mark Woods’ rebuttal, The Heterosexual Agenda, is
a clever foil to the U.S. report, but needs to have a more consistently earnest
tone for the parody to keep its punch.
So what’s the moral of them all? Inserting body parts
into the openings of others can result in ripping, tearing, ecstasy, love and
babies. Caveat emptor! JWR