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I am watching the CUTEST movie right now called, I believe, The Internets Are A Very Frightening Place To Raise A Child And What’s Up With Kids These Days Anyway, Am I Right?. It somehow involves Dee Snyder. THAT Dee Snyder? I don’t know. I don’t want to look it up on imdb to find out, because it’s too great to believe that the answer is “yes.” The opening credits included ominous shots of bloody needles and the sound of a dial-up connection. You know what’s even scarier than bloody murderers? Bloody murderers that take 29 minutes to load.

The first scene is of some girls dressed up like The Craft in an old-ass-school chat room, talking to a PREDATOOORR! He asks them, “Do you like hip-hop?” and one of the girls answers, out loud, to her computer screen, “I love it!”

Whoa – Amy Smart just showed up. Is she famous? Not sure. Too famous for this movie? Yeah, probably. So am I, though. So are you. (Okay, while I was there, I looked it up. It is THAT Dee Synder, which apparently is actually spelled “Snider.” Nice. Also, I’m sure that this person is too famous for this. Though I guess I didn’t actually know her name. And I can’t quite name anything else she’s been in.)

There’s a guy with a nose ring espousing the modern primitive lifestyle to some non-believing cops, now, man. This is an example of what good acting looks like all around:

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See, that’s a double-zero septum piercing you found lying there next to the dead body, man. (I guess it just, um, fell out of the killer’s nose?) See, as we control our bodies so do we control our minds, man. Goddammit, I wish i was watching this movie with four other people and a bowl of popcorn.

Fuck it. Making popcorn now. BRB.

“So where do these modern primitives hang out?”
“Zebalba, man.”
“Zebalba?”
“Yeah. It’s a club in the city, man.”
“‘Zebalba’…what’s it mean?”
“It means ‘The Entrance To Hell.’”

Good thing all these “modern primitives” hang out at the same club “in the city” and that everyone with a nose ring is obviously one of them and that the killer’s piercing fell out while he was dumping the body and that the guy who operates the machine that pulls the cars out of the rivers is also one of them and that he knows, like, Latin or whatever and that the people who name dance clubs are really good at foreshadowing.

Later, in this club: Rappers in blacklight-sensitive neon-green face paint and naked ladies with braid/dreads blowing fire. Oh, 90s retro, I can’t wait for the shitty parts of you!!

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This is an actual exchange from the actual movie:

“Got him!”
“Got who??”
“Captain Howdy.”
[extremely ominous music plays as the words "CaptHowdy is in Teen Chat" appear onscreen]
“I used the locator online member search engine.”
“What is a ‘locator member online search engine?’”

I know. Doesn’t do it justice. Not to worry! I got video!

Detective work, a la Strangeland:

This is why people like him: he’s a cool guy.”

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(Yeah, that’s right: Helverton. As in, an extremely clever shot at the beginning of the movie of the sign at city limits reading: “Welcome to Helverton.”)

Oh man. This is going to be such a hard movie to blog, because EVERY DAMN LINE is SO GREAT!

Computers work like that when you delete things! It’s true! Or was in 1997, I swear! Later, they catch him via a snowboarding lie! Oh, the computar.

Where did Amy Smart go? She just disappeared at some point and she never comes back for the rest of the movie. Also, apparently the detective’s daughter got kidnapped by Dee Snider? I don’t know when this happened, but it was either before or after he leaned meaningfully in her doorway next to this very subtle I guess I’m going to say “punk band sticker,” even though the daughter is a “movie-good-daughter,” and therefore far more into unicorns and the rest of her room is decorated only with, like, glitter and not band paraphernalia or other graffiti on her furniture:

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You know how sometimes in Lifetime movies, stuff just KEEPS HAPPENING? Like, long after the plot arc has finished? So, like, it starts off as a movie about, say, a teenager getting pregnant, and she has that whole plot arc and has the baby and all, but then you realize that there’s gotta be like at least another hour in the movie. So then she meets an abusive boyfriend and has THAT whole arc, but then, like, someone kidnaps her baby, and then she opens an art studio, and then her friend is bulimic…like, it just keeping GOING? Well! So, Dee Snider gets caught ridculously early in a very annoying way. Then he goes to a mental hospital and gets cured and covers up his tattoos with makeup. Then he moves back into his old house and Robert Englund (oh, Robert Englund, what won’t you make a shitty cameo in???), who I guess it is implied likes to fuck his daughter?, like starts a mob and hangs him. But then there’s a storm and Dee Snider wakes back up? And is he supernatural and undead, now, or did he just sort of like not hang for long enough? The movie does not address this. We do not know. All we know is that he wakes up and says something witty I guess and then goes and puts his piercings back in. And so then he starts killing people again, including Robert Englund who looks pretty decent naked for his age, and then he starts killing the detective’s daughter again, and gets caught remarkably easy again (I think he was still in his house – he doesn’t do a really great job of hiding, frankly) and then a church burns down or something and then the detective is like, “I gotta go to the hospital.” And his detective-partner is like, “Are you hurt?” and he says, “I gotta see my family.” And then he starts walking away down the middle of the street. Like, get a cab, buddy!

Oh man.

So, also, the mob? Twisted Sister fans.

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And speaking of, why are all the signs written in the exact same handwriting?

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And what does “castration for defamation” mean? Maybe the props guy doesn’t know what “defamation” means.

Maybe some other stuff happens. There’s a pretty energetic death scene (OR IS THERE?!?? Yes there is.) I dunno. After the computers went away (and for being a movie that was ALL ABOUT COMPUTARS, it certainly had basically nothing at all to do with computers) I kind of lost interest.

So, on the The Attic scale, where 0 is, like, Casablanca, and The Attic is the best movie ever about evil twin ghosts and eating pasta messily, how does Strangeland rate? Eh. It wasn’t as good as The Attic.

Just watched Ichi the Killer! Apparently it’s pronounced “itchy,” not “eetchy.” Who knew. I’m pretty much never going to be able to break that habit. Also? The guy with the Glasgow smile? Not Ichi. And, in my dubbed version (because I was making a thing at the time and it’s really hard to make stuff and watch subtitled movies at the same time) was dubbed by actors with tough-guy British or Scottish accents, so that the whole thing really, really sounded like a Guy Ritchie movie or something, and it really seemed to make a whole lot of fucking sense – I am completely willing to believe that these are just a bunch of Japanese-born British gangs roaming the streets of London. Least annoying dubbing ever. So many delightful surprises await a person when you finally get around to seeing the actual movie! (Like: single best punch in film history, ever? Yes.) Anyway, yes, good, I liked it pretty much. It was fun. But the best part about it? Omg NYC Halloween parade costume orgasm extravaganza, dude. The Kakihara makeup/wig is easy as pie, and the sparkly shiny clothes would be fun as well. Get a second person to go as Ichi, with the goofy black superhero padding and the giant neon green #1 and the blades in the shoes. The real bonus is the victims. How effing amazing would it be to have a couple of random yakuzas walking along beside you whose necks just pump gallon after gallon of blood, hidden under their long black trench coats and expelled with astounding force via some invented mechanism? Oh god – maybe even have them be civillian-dressed plants standing on the sidelines who Ichi can kick when, like, someone shouts something to indicate that they get who the heck you’re supposed to be, so that it can look like you actually just decapitated a random dude watching the parade? Oh god. “Wow, this is amazing Ichi!”

I saw The Crazies with Ian last weekend! I didn’t hate it? Also, this was previewed before the movie:

So far, I’m not hating it, either.

I like remakes, in general. I think it’s snotty or something when people get all upset and wonder why Hollywood keeps remaking perfectly good movies, blah blah. It’s like getting upset that the movie is never as good as the book was – it’s not necessarily that it wasn’t as good, it’s just not the one you liked the first time. It’s a trick of your imagination, maybe. Old people will think that the Sex Pistols version of “My Way” isn’t as good, but punks would disagree. Or something like that. Plus, I think I’m a lazy movie-watcher, so already knowing what a character’s, um, character is isn’t that bad a thing. It lets you skip it and get to the other stuff: the scares or the effects or the whatever. And I sometimes don’t hate spoilers. I like being able to say, “Aw, shit, that is some ironic-ass foreshadowing.” Which is something I say sometimes. And, I don’t know. Even when the remake isn’t as good, it’s neat to see it re-interpreted by pretty people wearing modern clothes and shot on cleaner film stock and with better cgi. The new Omen isn’t better, it’s just different. It’s not worse. (The mask was scary!) (Oh – and! Using Mia Farrow in it, with the reference to other older devil-baby movies, strikes me as clever, which is another reason I like remakes: I like easy meta and clever references and in-jokes and winks and nods and feeling like I know some imdb trivia.) There are very few movies I would claim should not be remade.

The Crazies, in particular, I think was very very ripe for remaking. I have been known to claim that it is “Romero’s second-most-underrated movie,” but that’s just me trying to get someone to ask me about Martin. Honestly, it’s a shitty movie, and therefore not actually underrated at all. But it’s a really good idea. That’s what made it perfect for remaking: it was a good idea done poorly; I couldn’t wait to see this good idea done well. The remake didn’t make it as awesome as it could have been. The ending was very Indiana-in-a-refrigerator, kind of literally, and it didn’t push either the zombie comparison or the random-acts-of-violence metaphor far enough. But it was spooky and tense and scary and nerve-jangly. It was effective enough.

I’m excited about the Nightmare on Elm Street thing because it’s not just a remake, but it appears to be a reboot. I’m excited that Freddy’s makeup looks so much more realistic: he actually looks like a burn victim. I’m excited that it looks like it’s dropping the goofy one-liners and the humor (which I don’t hate in the Nightmare movies – it’s what they are and it’s it’s own thing and that’s fine, but – ). Nightmare is ripe for a reboot the way The Crazies was ripe for a remake: this is actually useful and makes sense. Nightmare really does have an honestly scary premise: the dreams, the trying-not-to-fall-asleep-but-failing, the pedophile who is the product of 1,000 crazy men raping a nun, who was burned alive by parents of children for revenge! What a great back story for a villain. Making it actually scary, and not arch and goofy and silly is a good change and a good idea.

Also: I love love love the scene in the trailer where they do the wet-sheet-as-wall trick, but then extend and extend and you realize that it’s actually really cgi. I claimed this was an homage or a clever reference to the original movie, but then Ian made fun of me and told me that putting Freddy in the remake was a very clever homage to the original or something. But I totally disagree: I think they’re referencing one of the all-time most famous homemade pre-cgi special effects ever (that’s right, I claimed that, eff you, Rick Baker) but making it cgi. I think that’s really funny and clever and kind of a “fuck you.” And I think maybe it’s also kind of the encapsulation of the whole process of a remake: you take the original, and you do something with it that they couldn’t or didn’t do the first time. You try to make it better. Maybe you make it worse. Maybe you make it worse through laziness – cgi is lazy.

Also, I do not want to work today. So, hello blog! Hello, talking about Nightmare on Elm Street for some reason! Hello, rambling about cgi.

I’m thinking about the tags I use on my blog (which are so stupid and useless – I do not fucking get tags; they’re so unnecessary) and i’m wondering if I’ve ever used the “movies” tag without also using the “horror” tag.

Okay. Work. Totally working now.

An Essay On Why I Like the Aliens, by Jessica

Yesterday I watched all four Alien movies in a row. I’d seen only bits and pieces of the first one previously. My reviews:

Alien: Good but boring, in the same way Night of the Living Dead is good but boring. Obviously the “best” of the four, though perhaps not the most enjoyable. The only one that seems to be true horror as opposed to horror/sci-fi or just sci-fi. Plus, Jonesy!

Aliens: I can see why people think this is the best in the series, though they’re wrong. Mostly because of the little kid. Ugh, little kids.

Alien 3: I liked how they got rid of the kid quickly and unceremoniously. Nobody needed her. I liked Ripley’s haircut the best in this one. The ending was decent. It wasn’t as bad as Ian said it would be.

Alien: Resurection: The worst in the series, and all Joss Whedon’s fault. Way, way too sci-fi-y (That stupid cube-of-whiskey trick? Dumb dumb dumb dumb stupid.).   And the making the basketball shot was stupid, and the look on Cher’s dad’s face when he pulls out a piece of his own brain (ugh – cross-eyed?  I bet that was written into the script, even: “Pulls out piece of brain, looks at it cross-eyed, wah-wah music plays.”)  And Ripley doing that whole “actress playing an animal” thing where she goes big-eyed and slowly tilts her head to one side, as though trying to understand this “humanity” you speak of?  Boring.  And blah blah everybody’s searching for their humanity, wah. Though – the alien searching for its humanity, too was the only saving grace in the movie. The newborn, period, was the only saving grace. Those eyes!  Goddammit that thing broke my fucking heart! Seriously, the newborn saved the hell out of this movie.  A great death scene for him, too.  I kind of like to imagine though that he didn’t die and he went back to earth with Ripley and the series turned into a funny sitcom where Ripley had to teach it not to eat people and stuff and they lived together in an apartment in LA and had misadventures together.  In one episode, they take a yoga class!  Hijinks!

Overall:

  • Ripley only aged about 20 years in about 250. That’s pretty good.
  • Ripley likes to walk around in her underpants. That’s okay. We all like it.
  • Weak pretty things to be saved, successively: Jonesy, Newt, giant mutant rapist prisoners I guess, Winnona Ryder.
  • Incidentally, who do you think adopted Jones? I don’t think Ripley had an awful lot of friends back there on that mining base or whatever. She probably just set him up with a whole lot of extra bowlsful of food and 200 years later, they discovered him when they were trying to re-sell her apartment or whatever.
  • Ripley doing that prisoner suddenly was stoooooopid.  It felt like they were just finally trying to shoe-horn in a sex scene.  They weren’t content to just have a badass female hero who didn’t wear high heels or have pretty hair or do boys – they had to remind us, “she’s still pretty!  boys like her!  it’s okay!”  (Ripley doing the alien was acceptable.)
  • Halfway through the second one I thought I had discovered a very deep and interesting theme about strong female warriors and mothers and queens. Ian informed me that everyone already knew this.
  • Ian says that the real overarching theme of these movies is the pitiful failure of navigation systems in the future.  Every damn movie begins with her having crashed or gone off course or something.
  • Alien incest! Ripley’s alien child is also her alien grandchild! I guess that’s…scandalous?
  • Omg speaking of: alien vagina.
  • O hai look it’s the cast of Firefly.
  • The best part of the series was constantly pointing out things that happen in the future.  “In the future, cats are named ‘Jones.’”  “In the future, you travel in your underpants.”  “In the future, business cards are clear.”  “In the future of the future, aliens get eyeballs.”

I am watching a movie called “Dead Girl,” which features this truly excellent poster:

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My feminist blogs hated it because, spoiler alert, it’s a zombie movie about two teenage boys who repeatedly fuck a zombie girl who is tied down to a table. The feminist blogs call this rape. I am, you may have heard, a bit of a raging feminist. Nonetheless, as I am also a bit of a zombie afficianado, I believe I can say with relative certainty that one cannot rape a zombie.

That’s right. I said that.

The reason you should not fuck your dog is that dogs prefer not to be fucked by people. Same goes for horses, children, blacked-out drunk sorority girls. You shouldn’t fuck things that don’t want you to fuck them: that’s rape. A zombie, I maintain, holds no such preference. One cannot rape a hole in the ground. One cannot rape a Fleshlight. Frankly, one cannot rape a dead body – one can only violate it as a piece of property – it’s basically vandalism to fuck a dead body. And since zombies = dead people, there is no raping of zombies. Ah, sure, okay – that’s slightly untrue. Zombies DO have desires. Zombies desire brains. But that is the ONLY things zombies desire! So, by denying zombies your delicious brains, you are thwarting their wishes and therefore raping them.

Dear everyone, stop raping zombies by not letting them eat your brains. Start fucking them, though. They’re fine with that.

Brought to you by: Totally Reasonable Jessica.

Though, of course – none of this – not their point and not my point – is the point of this movie. This is the point of the movie, from the only blogger who appears to have actually watched the movie. What she is saying here is not some big fancy intellectual thing, and it’s certainly not some very delicate or subtle political thing. It’s totally completely obvious in the movie. These stupid blogs were just obviously working from the trailer and the synopsis and the praise that it got on the indie-movie-circuit (which they just knee-jerk didn’t believe, for some reason: “If there’s anything more disturbing than the material advertising the movie itself, it’s what reviewers have to say about it,” Sociological Images says, in response to a whole heaping ton of praise from people who actually DID watch the movie), and not from having seen it.

It’s annoying when the big famous feminist bloggers are stupid, because they’re what people read. And then, later, of course, the little feminist blogs pick it up and also don’t watch the movie and just repeat it anyway. Grumble grumble etc.

Pfff EDIT: Oh and fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine…this is totally a different zombie mythology where, yes, this zombie does show a distinct preference not to get raped. She’s also a fast zombie, though, and I don’t believe in those, either, so it’s a stupid zombie mythology. But fine, whatever. She’s getting raped, I guess.

HA and EDIT 2: Doods are randomly sitting in a car, listening to a call-in talk show on a radio station. Annoying man’s voice: “Heyyyyyy…and how old are you?” Woman’s voice: “Twenty-five.” Man’s voice: “And do you have a boyfriend or a husband?” Ugh. Just watch the stupid movie, feminists. Obv.

EDIT 3: Yeah, no, okay. So, first of all, the movie ends with figurative NAKED FEMINIST RAGE ON THE LOOSE! So there’s that. Also, it’s a decent take on the genre. I can’t say I loved it or whatever, but it’s a totally decent revision, and it is 1000% a feminist horror movie, which there aren’t enough of – especially ones like this that don’t proclaim themselves SUPERFEMINISTHORRORMOVIES!!!!! like Teeth or Jennifer’s Body or whatever.

Blah blah.

the attic

Listen. This is going to be long, okay? It’s worth it.

Do you know what the Chiller Channel is? It’s a cable channel that shows horror movies, if by “horror movies” you mean “endless crappy Twilight Zones and movies with names like ‘Rock Monster’ and ‘The Cricket,’ edited so that all of the curse words and blood and weapons and scary parts are gone.” In other words: the Chiller Channel is fucking awesome.

A few weeks ago, I recorded a movie called “The Attic,” because I noticed that Elizabeth Moss was in it.

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(Holy crap – is Betty wearing Louboutins in that photo??) I watched about 20 minutes of it before realizing it was AWFUL and giving up.

A while later, bored or drunk, I finished it.

It. Was. Amazing.

I have never been so thrilled to be so wrong about something. This is one of the best bad movies I’ve ever seen, in no small part thanks to Miss Moss herself. I had intended to just write a sort of Lifetime, Wow! recap here, but I ended up not able to stop myself from just giving you a scene-by-scene playback. It’s still worth watching: DVR that shit, yo. Highly recommended. But. Whether you’re planning on watching it or not, here it goes:

The Attic opens with a scene of a young woman taking a bath and painting her toenails. Because, um, people do that. Apply wet paint to their persons while sitting in pools of water. Like how I always put on my mascara in the swimming pool. She finishes, leans back, and closes her eyes. A woman silently walks past the doorway, but the scary music which plays as she does awakens the toenail-painter! “Teddy?” she calls out, presumably to her ree-ree brother, but he doesn’t answer. As she gets up from the bathtub, this close-up lingers on the screen for like four seconds.

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In quick succession, then, these things happen:

1.Girl picks up a blue towel.
2.Girl is wearing blue towel and holding the brass candlestick that she keeps in the bathroom (but which we have not seen before), like as a weapon.
3.Girl runs to bedroom; is wearing white nightie and has white towel around hair. (No candlestick.)
4.Girl picks up the kitchen knife which she keeps in her bedroom.
5.Blah, blah, stalk stalk around the house, oh no! The girl who walks to scary music is standing inside the attic, whose trap door is open! It is…HER! The girl herself!
6.Run away, go outside, Scary Twin Her is standing in the yard – but her nightie is dirty!!
7.Girl falls down and writhes on the ground for a while.

End scene!

Oh man. This is going to be so good.

Next we see a real estate agent removing a “for sale” sign from the yard, and Peggy is “moping around,” as her mother tut-tuts. “It’s Frankie,” she announces, dreamily, stoned, seeing her ree-ree brother out in the yard. Frankie might be autistic or have Down Syndrome or be an idiot savant or basically anything else, it’s hard to tell, and his level of ree-ree-ness keeps fluctuating depending on whether or not the actor remembers to jerk his chin over to the right side of his body and flex his hands in front of his chest or not. He also kind of has a crush on his sister, I think. Peggy, we learn, is enrolled in college, but “doesn’t feel well” and has a history of not attending classes.

That night, Peggy hears some scary noises and has a dream about the girl with a towel around her head doing that scary too-fast-J-horror movement out on the front porch. (This ghost is never seen again – it becomes a different ghost immediately, and this one is never explained. [Frankly, though, neither is the other one.] Get used to this, please.)

The next morning is the first day of class, and Peggy’s skipping. “You’re going to stay inside again today?” her mother asks. She promises to hang out with Frankie in the woods tomorrow. We’re noticing three trends here:

1.Whaaaa? Peggy doesn’t go outside??
2.Frankie insists on wearing really ugly sweaters every day.
3.Peggy talks in this soft, whispery, infuriating little-girl voice.

Peggy’s brushing her hair in the bathroom later on, when – oh noes – a spoooooky girl walks past the hallway! “Frankie?” she calls out. (Maybe it was Teddy.)

In bed that night, she hears the spooky noises again. She follows them up to the attic, where spookiness occurs, she sees the girl, who is – oh no! Her! – and she falls out of the attic in a really amusing way.

When she comes to, Smith, an EMT, is fondling her head and calling her “Sweetheart” a lot. Smith has a really distracting dot on his thumbnail that I guess is a bruise? He doesn’t usually have that, does he?

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Smith says she’s okay, and her parents decide not to take her to the hospital.

Then, for some reason, she’s in the living room talking to two detectives. “There was a girl in the attic,” she tells them. “Maybe it was a bad dream,” one says. Then, in a very insinuating bad-guy voice, “Maybe you need to see a neurologist.” So, like, did they call the cops so that the girl who had just hit her head really hard could report that she had seen a woman who looked exactly like her in her attic? Or do cops just show up when girls in spooky farmhouses fall down in small towns?

Later, Peggy is sitting and reading, photogenically. The phone rings, and the machine picks up. A girl leaves the following message: “Hey [Peggy], it’s me. It’s really retarded that you don’t have a cell phone, but [I had to say that out loud so I could justify why you're listening to this bit of plot advancement out loud. Also, I] just thought you might want to know that your ex-boyfriend is dating Melonie.”

Also that actually somehow wasn’t plot advancement. This has nothing to do with anything else and never comes up again. Unless, I guess, maybe it’s, like, supposed to be some sort of horrible blow to her ego that helps make her be crazy later on? (Oh noes – spoiler alert – right, she’s crazy.)

Smith comes back, introduces himself as, “Trevor. John Trevor. Most people just call me Trevor.” Which is apparently the same name as some person on TV. Peggy is wearing a hilarious black lace gothic blouse and has weird intricate hair. It’s unnecessary and distracting.

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Smith tells her that he is a part-time paramedic, but mostly a detective. He doesn’t think that the detectives “Baker and Carter” were really listening to her last night and he wants to ask her some more questions.

“Do you have any friends that might be screwing with you?”
“I decided to leave all of my friends behind when we moved here.”
“Specifically, who closed the door to the attic stairs?” he continues, without missing a beat, because what she just told him is normal.

That night at dinner, Peggy announces that she’s feeling better, though it is pointed out that she is still not eating anything. Her father talks like a hilarious old-timey Bronx gangster and asks her brother why she hates him. “It ain’t my business,” Frankie says, and Dad slaps him on the back of the head and says, menacingly, “Don’t lie to me.” “She has a journal, okay?” Frankie cries. This, too, is not a plot point and is never mentioned again.

Smith comes by the next day to look around the attic and they find a mysterious sign written on the floor in red paint. “Doesn’t it look like…some kind of zodiac sign?” she asks Smith. He says he’ll look into it.

Later, Peggy stares out at the tire swing in the front yard for what I’m realizing now is like the third time (nope – the tire swing is not a plot point, either). Then she sees herself standing outside, but with way more eyeliner on, and she falls down really hilariously again, hitting her head on the kitchen stove, this time. Seriously, these falls are, like, CGI-ed or something. I don’t know how to explain them, but they’re ridiculous. Peggy tells her dad that she saw her twin. He replies, “[Peggy], you don’t have a sister.” She gets Very! Suspicious! and asks him, “Why’d you call her my sister?” like it was some sort of clue. Peggy apparently does not realize that twins who are not boys are also sometimes called “sisters.” Dad wants to take her to the emergency room, but she freaks out and announces that shes not going to go outside until she figures out what’s going on.

Now Peggy’s talking to a psychiatrist, who sort of appeared out of nowhere in her living room, telling him that she hates her dad and the house, and acting full blown cuh-ray-zee. Like, curled up in the fetal position, then suddenly coming on to him, laughing wide-eyed crazy.

Hey! Tire swing again!

Then Smith is back at her house, on the computer, googling the zodiac sign, which it turns out is the “Gemini” symbol. (Ooo!) Nice work “looking into it,” Smith.

They play a little kissy-face, and get interrupted by Frankie. Frankie’s wearing another ugly sweater. He wants to go outside, but Peggy sees Evil Twin Her outside, and won’t leave the house. Frankie has brought her a present: it’s a disposable camera. “The next time you see somebody you don’t like,” he says, “you can take a picture of them.” Now that’s a plot point, friends!

Peggy tells her psychiatrist about Evil Twin Her.
“It’s like a bad dream I used to have, and when we moved into this house, it became real.”
“And your fear of the outside is greater than your fear of the inside?”
Peggy enunciates her little heart out as she tells him, “I…can’t…go. And I…don’t…want…to stay.”

This movie came out in 2008. Mad Men premiered in 2007. Just fyi.

Just for reference, this is what Evil Eyeliner Peggy looks like:

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Pretty!

Also, here’s some more intricate distracting hair:

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That’s a birth certificate she found there on the wall. Turns out she had a twin. Oooo. Peggy asks Smith to do some checking into it for her at Riverview Hospital. Listen, lady, he’s just going to put it off until he comes over again and then he’s going to remember when you ask him about it and he’ll google it real quick. Anyway, Peggy’s dad overhears the phone call and starts acting all suspicious, and tries to make her eat something, and it’s messy and gross.

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She says she wants to move out, he says he’ll help and tries to throw her outside. She sees Evil Her, screams, runs away, and tells her dad she’s going to “[EDITED OUT BECAUSE CHILLER CAN'T CUSS] kill [him].”

Then there’s a commercial for The Home Free Program, starring Ludicrous (Ludacris, maybe?) and Greyhound. The soundtrack’s song’s lyrics go, “Don’t keep running away/ I’ll run away with you/ If you want me to,” which seems like the wrong message, frankly.

Anyway, Smith comes back and says that, yes, Peggy did have a twin who was born three minutes after she was (Again, not a plot point, but a big deal is made of the fact that she was born at 11:58 and the twin was born 3 minutes later, so, like…the next day. Not that it matters.), and who died 12 days later. “There’s something else,” Smith says. “There was something wrong with her. …Part of her brain wasn’t formed. She would have never had a normal life.” “Did they…did he just let her die?” Peggy asks. You know what? If “part of her brain wasn’t formed,” maybe, you know, this wasn’t really the heartless murderous act you think it was, Peggster.

Peggy gets weird and incestuous-y and sexually menacing and interrogates Frankie about whether he remembers her having a twin sister.
“You’re joking, [Peggy],” he ree-rees.
“No, Frankie,” she moans, “I’m dead serious.”

Then Peggy goes to an awesome rave in the attic.

She brings Frankie up later, but Frankie doesn’t see the awesome rave! What’s going on! On the other hand, Frankie touches the mirror and is cured of ree-ree-ism. He starts breathing fog and telling Peggy that she will never leave this house; this house is part of her soul now. After he snaps out of it, he starts acting ree-ree extra hard, and still breathes steam for another line or two. Maybe it was just cold?

Peggy calls Smith about her rave symbols.
“Could you do some more research for me?”
“Sure, name it.”
“I saw more Wicca signs in the attic.”

Wait – Wicca? Where did that come from?

Smith is unfazed.
“Did you copy them down?”
“Yes. Listen, I need you to find a man named Dr. Stephen Coffee, and I need you to bring him to the house.”
“Okay. Who’s Dr. Coffee?”
“He’s an expert on the occult.”

Whatever.

Peggy acts some more:

(You know what? I’m just gonna go ahead and say…compare the acting there to the acting in this video. I mean…right?)

Anyway, then Peggy’s mother is drinking whiskey on the porch. Father walks past and asks her, bitterly, “What did you get all dressed up for?” She answers, furious, “I’m not dressed up.” Also not a plot point, but, you know, great.

Then there’s a scene with the psychiatrist talking to the parents and you do get some plot points…but you know what they are and I’m not going to bother typing them.

That night, Frankie hears a scary noise and decides to go out to investigate. Peggy begs him not to, but the ree-ree insists that he’s “big and strong.” So Evil Peggy slits his throat with a kitchen knife and then stares at Not-Evil Peggy for a while. The detectives show back up and interrogate Peggy about the murder. She tells them that her sister Beth did it. “Beth?” She nods sagely. “There’s a case file. Detective John Trevor has been helping me with it.” The detectives find nothing strange about this and decide to go home for the night.

Later, Peggy sees her parents hugging Evil Her, and takes a picture of them with Frankie’s camera. Oh, right. That took a while to show back up.

Smith stops by, and they act:

What do you think he’s thinking in this scene? I think his face during these cutaways is my favorite part of the entire movie, maybe.

Peggy accuses him of just wanting to fuck, and so they do. It’s weird. Then she takes some photos of him on Frankie’s camera, which certainly couldn’t possibly be a plot point. (Actually, it is, of course, entirely possible that it’s not a plot point. But it is.) Also, check out Smith’s post-doing-it hair:

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Eh? Eh??

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Some more ghostly stuff happens, then Peggy dyes a blonde streak in her hair so that “when she comes back, she won’t look like me, and then everybody will know it was her.” Whatever. She tells the psychiatrist about the camera, he offers to take her to a mental institution, she says she wants to go. He tells her parents that she should be hospitalized, and they seem to disagree with him – he sort of runs off in a weird huff. Then Peggy sits on the stairs and eavesdrops on her parents downstairs. You can hear her father saying, “This isn’t the Miss American beauty pageant,” whatever that means. Then it fades to some weird scene where Peggy has her normal hair color back and seems to be standing in, like, a bus station or something. I guess it’s, like, a metaphor? For, um, overhearing people talking? Look, I don’t know.

The next day, her father walks downstairs and sees her pigging out at the kitchen table (remember how she used to never eat? Maybe I didn’t harp on that very much – but trust me, the characters kept informing each other of this fact every few minutes). That’s spaghetti sauce all over her chest and upper arms, btw. I know it’s not super-visible in my photo here, but trust me – she had it smeared all over her like SPF 75.

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I guess this represents her giving in to going to the idea of the mental hospital, and starting to get better? Because that’s healthy. Rubbing pasta on your biceps. But then her father reaches in front of her for a piece of…chicken or something…and his sleeve rides up and – oh noe! – reveals a pentagram tattoo on his wrist! So she freaks out and starts with the crazy again, offering him handfuls of pasta and then dropping it on the floor, telling him she knows what he’s doing, blah blah. He hugs her, in his nice suit, which seems crazy to me, also, frankly. Then they kiss.

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Whatever.

Some more ghostly stuff happens. There’s some whispering, and a door rattles ominously. Frankly, I was kind of distracted by how much she looked like Cruella DeVille suddenly.

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Evil Ghost Her shows up and they start wrasslin’ and hair-pullin’. It’s a total girl-fight, too: like, with little pained gasps of “ow!” and slow-mo rolling-around and slapping. Then Smith busts in and – I swear this is true – holds a gun to Evil Ghost Her’s head. For some reason this is threatening to Evil Ghost Her, so Evil Ghost Her quits pulling Good Her’s hair and then jumps out of the window and disappears. Guns? Threatening. Jumping out of top-floor windows and disappearing? Eh.

But at least now Smith has seen her, so he knows she’s not crazy. She tells him that her dad told Evil Her to kill her. He says they need to go to the police, convince them, and then bring them back to “end this.” But isn’t he the police? Also, um, what?

Anyway, it’s moot – Peggy still refuses to leave the house. He gives her his gun and goes off on his own to “find the detectives.” But but! Anyway, she swears she’ll leave with him “when it’s over.”

Whatever.

You know, I’m just noticing how pretty this room is, that she was just attacked in.

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That big window and all? What is this room? Why hasn’t this room ever been unpacked/set up? They’ve lived here for at least like two months (she mentions at one point that she hasn’t left the house in 40 days).

Whatever.

Her parents come home and immediately get caught crushing up some pills and putting them into a soda for her (we see a pentagram on her mother’s wrist, too, at this point). She starts waving the gun around at them and accusing them of trying to kill her.

“It’ll help you sleep, sweetie,” her mom says.
“For how long? A dirt nap??”

Whatever.

Jon Voight! That’s who her dad reminds me of! Phew. That was bothering me. Anyway.

He developed the pictures. …But she doesn’t look at them yet. Instead, she recaps the movie so far for him, informing him that her twin sister Beth died 12 days after she was born, but he’s been trying to bring her back with his witchcraft, and she killed Frankie (“Bitch killed Frankie!”).

“No, Sweetheart,” Jon Voight says, savoring his ownership of the movie’s twist line, “you killed Frankie.”

For some reason, this she believes. This is what breaks through her psychosis, and she breaks out in tears, realizing that it is true. Nice.

Jon Voight tries to take the gun from her, and she shoots him. Then she shoots her mom. Incidentally, you can still see her pentagram tattoo here in this scene, so if we’re going for one of those Fight Club things, shouldn’t that have disappeared once she realized she was crazy and imagining everything? Or…were her parents actually Wiccans? Anyway, she calls 911 and tells them that she just killed her parents in self-defense.

Oh…wait…no, there in the next scene, just after the commercial break: both tattoos are gone. I’m going to go ahead and call this one for “continuity error,” rather than “big reveal.”

Anyway, the cops show up and tell her to put down the gun that she’s pointing at them. She demands to see Detective John Trevor. He runs in, dressed in his EMT uniform. She tells him to tell the other detectives about Beth and Coffee and what they found out.

“My name’s Brad. Brad Howard. I’m a paramedic,” Smith over-explains.

“There is no twin sister, [Peggy],” the detective says, while tolerating having a crazy lady point a gun at him. “We have your birth records.”

“But what about the photos?” she asks, and hands them to him, and he takes them, and still doesn’t mind having a gun pointed at him.

“They’re just empty rooms, [Peggy],” he says, and hands them back to her, and it’s true, they are, and he still doesn’t mind that she’s pointing a gun at him.

And then there are lots of flashbacks to Peggy taking the pictures, and Smith keeps fading out of them, in case we didn’t get it. Also this wiggly shot:

I wonder what he’s thinking there, too?

Anyway, she demands that he tells them who he really is, or she’ll blow his brains out! On the count of three! But then, oh, twist after twist, she’s actually been pointing the gun at herself instead of him the whole time, and she kills herself, waaa-waaa, fade to the psychiatrist pedanting the next day to the detectives out in the front yard. Just in case we didn’t get it: yeah, Beth wasn’t real. John Trevor, neither.

“But what started it?” the detective asks. “Until two months ago, they were a normal family.”
“Well, something in this house triggered it.”
The other detective walks out and let’s loose this ASTOUNDING AND RELEVANT FACT:
“You’re not gonna believe it, but I just found out…30 years ago, a woman died in that same house.”
Everyone looks at each other very meaningfully, because THAT EXPLAINS EVERYTHING.

And then another fade to the for-sale sign back up in front of the house and a new family with a vulnerable young daughter checking the place out. Man, doesn’t anybody have teenage sons these days? Who, you know, aren’t the ree-ree older brothers of crazy ladies?

Anyway, this new daughter, during the look-around, goes straight up into the attic (which, I’m now realizing, didn’t really have all that much to do with this whole thing – shouldn’t the movie have been called, like, “The Twin,” or something?). She looks into the mirror and oh noes, it’s Smith, dressed up in a cheap suit.
“Who are you?” she asks.
He answers with the six most terrifying words in cinema history:
“I’m Ron. The real estate agent.”

I was thinking about High School Musical 2 the other day. Aw, hell, let’s be honest here – I think about High School Musical 2 most days. But on this particular day, I was thinking about the song that Ryan and Chad sing together, “I Don’t Dance.” The song is about, well, Ryan (Ryan is the gayest character in the series, in a totally non-sarcastic and unfunny way: he is literally gay and literally out. Deal with it, parents of tweens who did not realize this.) fucking Chad (the most homophobic character in HSM1, and still the most butch even in HSM2).

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Sample lyrics:

Ryan: “Hey batter batter, hey batter batter, swing.”
Chad: “I’ve got to just do my thing.”
Ryan: “You’ll never know if you never try.”
Chad: “I don’t dance.”
Ryan: “I know you can.”
Chad: “There’s not a chance.”
Ryan: “Slide home, you score, swinging on the dance floor. … Take your best shot, just hit it.”
Chad: “I’ve got what it takes playing my game, so you better spin that pitch you’re gonna throw me.”
Ryan: “Lean back, tuck it in, take a chance.”
Chad: “You make a good pitch.”

Look, I don’t know what half of that stuff means, but I know it’s dirty.

So anyway. I’m wondering how this fits into the greater scheme of the HSM world. I go online, I google away and I come up with…nothing! Almost nothing. Seriously! Google “gay subtext high school musical” and you find one guy with two short little valiant attempts at blog posts (which, incidentally, he calls “shockingly in-depth” – oh you poor little man, you have no idea) and then a bunch of angry high school dudes calling it “gay” as an insult. (Well…and this, which Ian didn’t realize was a joke for what was frankly an embarrassingly long time.) Maybe it’s just so freakin’ obvious that everybody else figured it wasn’t worth writing about. Well. I don’t have such high standards. And I know what I must do.

I must write a shockingly in-depth analysis of the raging homosity of HSMs 1 and 2, so that future generations may google this information safely. You’re welcome.

HSM1 is a relatively straightforward coming-out analogy. The movie is about Troy’s struggle to come out (as a, ahem, singer) to his friends and his father. His best friend Chad is sort of a homophobe (In trying to explain to Troy why the high school musical is lame: “It’s not hip hop, or rock. It’s, like, show music. It’s all costumes and makeup.” [Shudders]). His dad is ultra-traditionally masculine – the coach of the basketball team and Wildcat basketball champion, class of ’81! The Coach has never worried that his son is gay because it’s something he couldn’t even conceive of. During the big attempt-at-coming-out scene:

Troy: “Hey dad? Did you ever think of trying something new, but were afraid of what your friends might think?”
Coach: “You mean like going left? You’re doing fine. Come on.”

Now, I have no idea what “going left” means, but I’m working under the assumption that it’s a basketball thing. The Coach just doesn’t get it. It’s not so much that he disapproves of homos – it’s just that being a homo is not an option for him. In fact, poor Coach is very much re-living his glory teen basketball champion days of ’81 through his son, and Troy knows it. This is both why Coach can’t possibly imagine that Troy is gay (he wasn’t) and also why it’s so hard for Troy to come out – the Coach isn’t homophobic, like Chad is, it’s just that he’d be disappointed that his son is choosing such a wildly different life than the one he chose. It wouldn’t matter if his son was “gay,” or a “singer,” or whatever: just that it’s different.

Gabriella, Troy’s supposed girlfriend, plays a surprise role here. You’re thinking “beard” at first, but not at all. Troy and Gabriella are both basically playing the same character here. They’re both young gay men coming out – in fact, they’re basically both the same young gay man coming out. I don’t mean this in any smarty-pants literary way, that she’s his feminine side or anything like that. I just mean that the writers expanded one role into two parts. They’re both the same type of character searching for the same thing. You can treat them as one person, for convenience’s sake, throughout most of the movie. She even gets her own “hey dad?” kind of scene:

Speaking to Taylor, about singing: “It just happened…but I liked it. A lot. Did you ever feel like there’s this whole other person inside you, just looking for a way to come out?”

Gabriella’s position as simply an extension of Troy leads to the question of Sharpay. Is she, too, simply an extension of her male counterpart, Ryan?

First, perhaps, it’s necessary to really explain how obvious and simple and accepted it is that Ryan is gay and out. First, the obvious and stereotypical things: He dresses trendily, he wears pink, he has physical gay mannerisms (the way he cocks his head, purses his lips, walks sexily). At one point, when he thinks he’s getting “punked” he shouts excitedly, “Maybe we’ll get to meet Ashton!” His sister is his best friend. He dances and sings. He’s a fucking theatre kid. Of course he’s gay. This all sounds just silly and embarrassing to type out, because these are such goofy stereotypes, but you’ve got to remember that this movie is a celebration of young, cheerful, fun, campy gay culture – so they’re going to positively revel in the sweet, innocent stereotypes like musical theater and teenage crushes on Ashton Kutchner. (In the sequel we also see him doing yoga with his mother, impersonating Liberace during an Estelle Williams dance sequence, aquiring a fat-girl fag hag, and of course that whole converting-Chad baseball thing. He also has this exchange with his mother:

Mom: “Tell [Sharpay] that if she worries too much she’ll get frown lines.”
Ryan: “I already told her twice.”

Incidentally, his mother calls him “Duckie,” an in-joke reference for us old folks to that other obviously-gay young man, well-dressed and a good dancer, from another teen movie.)

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I think the most telling bit, though, is that Ryan is never paired romantically with a girl. Fucking everybody gets a chaste little relationship in these movies. Troy gets Gabriella, of course. Sharpay gets Zeke. Chad gets Taylor. Kelsi gets Jason. But the only pairing Ryan ever falls into is either with his sister, or, hilariously enough, with Gabriella in the second movie – both of these are women who are completely off-limits to him. Check out this hug he and Gabriella share, which Troy happens to see and get jealous of:

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That terrified, disgusted pelvis, held uncomfortably 12 inches back, is of no threat to you, Troy. In fact, Ryan is paired with one other woman throughout these two movies. In the next-to-last scene of HSM2, when all of the couples walk out onto the romantically lit golf course and Troy and Gab finally have their long-awaited kiss, Ryan (on the far left, yes, in the hat) is holding hands with – that’s right – the fat girl. Ryan has found his fruit fly.

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Look, Disney does an awful lot of stuff wrong. I’m sure everyone knows how I feel about the Disney “Princesses.” But they do a lot of stuff right in this first HSM movie: the sex roles are nicely balanced (not only is Gabriella an “Einsteinette” in math and science, but the school’s science teacher is a – pregnant! – woman, too), and there’s an interracial couple which just sort of passes through unremarked upon. But the handling of Ryan’s sexuality is my very favorite thing that they’ve done right. I don’t think that they’re trying to hide it or deny it by never explicitly mentioning it. I mean, fuck, it took two whole movies just to get an extraordinarily short kiss out of the two main love interests: it’s just a really really chaste movie. I think that not mentioning it is not hiding it; it’s more equitable to the way they don’t mention Sharpay’s and Zeke’s inter-racial status. It’s unremarked upon because it is unremarkable. So what? He’s gay. That’s just how Ryan is. It’s normal and they don’t care. And that’s fucking brilliant. (So why then all the brouhaha over Troy coming out? Why isn’t it no big deal for him to be gay, too? Well, it’s different – he’s the basketball star, the son of the masculine school coach. It’s unexpected for Troy, and he’s also been in the closet for so long, hiding it for so long, that they feel as though he was lying to them. Ryan never lied, never hid. And he’s a theatre kid – it’s no surprise, so it’s no big deal.)

So back to Sharpay – is she, like Gabriella, simply an extension of Ryan, her male counterpart in the movie? Is she, say, the woman Ryan wishes he could be? No, no, no. Because, one, Ryan is not a cross-dresser. He has plenty of opportunity to be one if he wanted to, with all the costumes and role-playing in the theatre department, and he never does it. (He plays – or wants to play, sigh – the very masculine Fish Prince in the talent show in HSM2.) He doesn’t want to be a woman, so he doesn’t need her to be that for him. But also, Sharpay has her own separate role to play, and Sharpay is playing another gay boy in this movie. Sharpay is the movie’s drag queen. Have you seen her hair? Have you heard “Fabulous?” Have you heard it performed at your local Drag Night yet? You will. You will.

Taylor and Kelsi, the two other main female roles, aren’t playing gay male roles. Kelsi sure as fuck looks like a boi, but I’m not sure that means anything. Maybe it’s a bone thrown to the lesbos, maybe not. And Taylor’s a BBF, I guess, but that has nothing to do with who she wants touching her cooter. Why aren’t they playing gay male characters like the other two female leads? Maybe because the male halves of their couple pairings are both actually supposed to be heterosexual?

My point here is that half the girls, even, are playing gay boys. This movies all about the gay boys. And my pointing that out isn’t, incidentally, a complaint. This is a movie about young gay men. What do I care if they just so happened to get girls to play some of the parts?

Eventually, Troy decides to audition for the school musical, outing himself to his friends (while the drama teacher accidentally outs him to his father). Troy is the BMOC, the most popular kid in school. Suddenly, by coming out of the closet, he inspires the rest of the school to do the same. In a fantastic musical orgy of personal self-realization and public intolerance, all sorts of kids start coming out in their own way: Zeke bakes! the smart girl dances hip-hop! the stoner (oh – sorry – right, I mean “skater”) kid plays the cello! “I got a confession, my own secret obsession, and it’s making me lose control,” they sing. And everyone around them sings in return, forcing them back into their closets, “No, no, no – not another word. Stick to the status quo.” This is why so many theatre kids don’t come out until freshman year at state university.

Things aren’t going any better for Troy at first. His homophobic best friend Chad tries to talk him out of it.

Chad: “…while you’re off somewhere in leotards, singing ‘Twinkle Town.’”
Troy: “No one said anything about leotards.”
Chad: “Not yet, my friend. Just you wait.”

Chad’s stereotypical view of gay people makes him think that Troy will have to conform to those limits, and he’s trying to save his friend, in the same way that, say, right-wing Christians truly believe that they are “saving” gay people by sending them to fag camps. The only gay person Chad knows is Ryan, and he thinks that if Troy is gay, then Troy will no longer play basketball or be his friend – he’ll have to start wearing pink hats and leotards and hanging out with a different group of people. The “just you wait” might even be interpreted a little more menacingly, as a threat of another sort, but…I’m going to give Chad the benefit of the doubt there, at least.

(Strangely, this whole discussion takes place in the shadow of crazy, disapproving, middle-aged-female weirdness: Chad and Troy are talking in the library, where the librarian [named Ms Falstaff, for, um, some reason that maybe someone who actually remembers their Shakespeare could explain better than I?] keeps popping in to scowl disapprovingly and “shush” them, and Chad’s argument is begun with a story about how much his mother likes Michael Crawford [who played the Phantom of the Opera] – she has a photo of him inside her refrigerator, as “one of her crazy diet ideas,” according to Chad. “Look, I don’t attempt to understand the female mind,” he says. Is all the anti-woman sentiment in this scene meant to underscore Chad’s straight-and-narrow view of masculinity?)

His father, once again, isn’t intolerant, just disbelieving. He simply doesn’t understand.

Coach: “You’re a playmaker – not a singer.”
Troy: “Did you ever think that maybe I could be both?”

The thing is, he probably hadn’t. They get into a fight about this and Troy storms away, but you can see that the Coach is already thinking about this and changing his mind.

Gabriella and Troy discuss the whole situation later:

Gabriella: “Everyone’s treating you differently because of it.”
Troy: “They can’t handle it. That’s not my problem. It’s theirs.”
Gabriella: “What about your dad?”
Troy: “It’s not about my dad. It’s about how I feel.”

Eventually, everyone around Troy comes to understand this. Troy and Gabriella play “straight” for a while: they decide not to audition after all. But when their friends see them moping around dejectedly, they all decide to change their minds and do whatever they can to make their friends happy again. They encourage them to go to the call-backs and sing their gay little hearts out. And Troy had nothing to worry about from his father, after all. “What I really want is to see my son having the time of his life,” he says, and every middle-aged gay man whose father still isn’t speaking to him sighs a jagged, teary sigh.

HSM1 is easy. Troy comes out, struggles for acceptance, and gets it. Everyone in the school breaks out of their pigeonholes, learns to accept that people can be complicated, and sings a little song. I wipe away a single crystal tear. Awesome.

HSM2 is a little less clear; it’s not quite as simple or straightforward an allegory. Personally, I think this one is almost more about Ryan than it is about Troy. For both of them, though, it’s about becoming their own man. They’re both out, they’re both fags, that’s great – but what kind of a man will each of them be? Maybe this is another thing Disney is doing right. This isn’t a movie about gay people; it’s a movie about people who are gay. (Though here’s something they got a lot wronger than they did in the first movie: the academic team is never once mentioned in this movie. The whole thing is just – dropped. I mean, Gabriella at least could have been hired as, say, a tutor instead of a lifeguard, for her summer job. She really is reduced purely to “girlfriend” in this movie – and in fact, she’s even sort of a very maternal savior-type, saving her man by virtue of her being such an awesome girl and for no other reason. Sigh. And that, of course, is why she’s the lifeguard. Because she has to save her man. [He does, at one point, jump in the pool and shout to her, "Save me!" and oh, she does, she does.] But I’m not here for the feminism; I’m here for the fags.) (Ah, but I’m here for the feminism a little bit: Troy gives little off-handed nicknames to the six young kids he is coaching in golf: Champ, Buddy, Cutie, Man, Killer, and to the last, who doesn’t get a nickname: “You look good.” Guess which ones are the boys and which are the girls.)

Sharpay is a drama queen, a drag queen, a bitch, and a boss. She bosses around her friends, her enemies, and especially her brother. HSM2 is about Ryan growing a pair and leaving her behind. (Maybe symbolizing the way a young gay man has to go through his “big gay” stage, and then leave it behind? Become not a gay man but a man who is gay? Ryan here is fighting and leaving behind the Big Gay? I’m just spinballin’ here.) “We can do whatever we want to!” Ryan says, re: summer vacation. “Everything changes!” The major plot point of the movie is baseball song-and-dance scene, where Ryan and Chad duet together and, uh, make sweet music.

“Hey pitcher,” Ryan says at the beginning. “Gimme the ball.”

Oh yeah. Ryan’s done being the bottom. It’s his turn to pitch.

You could say that the whole “playing for the other team” metaphor was there in the first movie, too (with all the basketball stuff). But it really comes out nicely in this song, with all of its hit-you-over-the-head metaphors about “how I swing” and “pitching” and “scoring” and “you’ll never know if you never try.” Half the baseball uniforms are sleeveless. Jesus, that’s good stuff.

I don’t think Chad is gay. But I think we’ve just been witness to his first bout of youthful exploration. Maybe that fits in with the theme, too, of all of these boys trying to figure out what kind of men they’re going to be.

“Hey Evans!” he says. “I’m not saying I’m gonna dance at the show. But if I did…what would you have me do?” He’s not a fag or nuthin’…but what do two guys do together, anyway?

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Oh, Ryan will be happy to show you, Chad.

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And – seriously? They’ve traded clothes in the next scene. Really. Suddenly they’re wearing each other’s clothes. Straight teenage boys just don’t do that! Nor do they jerk off ketchup bottles so suggestively, I might add.

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And, oh, I dunno, I guess Troy’s doing stuff, too. But don’t worry about him – he’s gonna dance it out.

“I will never try to live a lie again,” he tells us, leaping to and fro. Incidentally, that’s just got to be an homage, right?

(And but also rumor has it that Zac Efron is going to be in the Footloose remake, which is, god, so cute.)

And what does all this have to do with Dirty Dancing? I dunno. But something.

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Troy’s about half a second away from chuckling fetchingly, running down that aisle, and jumping right up into Gab’s waiting arms.

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Huh – I hadn’t really noticed that before. We’ve got Pretty in Pink, Footloose, and Dirty Dancing references. I really do believe that Ryan’s gayness isn’t hidden in these movies. Ryan is out, I honestly honestly believe that – and maybe Disney doesn’t know it, but damnit, Kenny Ortega knows. Peter Barsocchini knows. But, okay, I’m willing to admit that perhaps there are references that are a little hidden – Troy’s coming out, Sharpay’s drag. And maybe these jokes are meant for the same people who see “Bet On It” and think, “Dance it out, Kevin Bacon. Dance it out.”

And, uh…I guess this is where my analysis starts to wander away and putter out, because I’m growing disinterested. But here is this picture, as my parting gift to you:

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ha ha

I haz seen the Indiana Jonez.  You haz not.  Ha.

Dear Jesus,

Thanks!

Love,

Jessica

Jessica: “Yeah, but, The Professional is shit-in-art, whereas, say, Crank is art-in-shit.”

Ian: “Jessica has horrible taste in movies and I don’t want to hang out with her anymore.”

Jessica: “You want to have illegal gross sex with 11-year-old Natalie Portman.”

Ian: “That’s totally true because I’m a stupid jerk who has no idea what movies are good and also I do 11 year old girls.”

Jessica: “I know.  Also – FUCKING CRANK 2: HIGH VOLTAGE WHICH HAS TWICE THE PUBLICLY CHEERED RAPE SCENES BUT ALSO TWICE THE FALLING-OUT-OF-HELICOPTERS-AND-SURVIVIING-BECUASE-FUCKING-FUCK-YOU-COCK-SUCK.”

Ian: “I am a little girl and am obviously wrong.”

Jessica: “I know.”

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