Despite what Radar Online said in the Wall-E post yesterday, that with an opera version of Brokeback Mountain, same-sex marriage in California and Madonna's new album, America is, by any reasonable measure, getting its gay on, besides maybe that little robot, the American film industry, is doing quite the opposite.

This is not new news, and Gregg Goldstein summed most of it up a few weeks back, noting:

Strand Releasing's 22 films in theaters last year (most with GLBT themes) grossed just $462,000. Killer Films has shifted its focus from queer-themed features to true crime dramas and other films, with tepid critical and financial success. Rotten Tomatoes says that gay- and lesbian-themed films averaged a 51.5% rating in 2006 and 2007 (well below its under-60% "rotten" threshold), while projects like the 2005 Toronto fest's best Canadian feature winner, "C.R.A.Z.Y.," can't secure U.S. theatrical distribution.

With all this talk about the troubles of the independent film industry, its already been clear for a few years that gay independent film has been undergoing a bit of a negotiation. Theatrically, a "gay film" hasn't made over $700,000 since Brokeback Mountain made 80 times that in 2005 (unless you count Notes on a Scandal).

The top five grossing GLBT-themed films since Brokeback?

1. Imagine Me and You FoxS $672,243
2. Another Gay Movie TLA $654,132
3. Adam & Steve TLA $309,404
4. Boy Culture TLA $220,409
5. The Mostly Unfabulous Social Life of Ethan Green Reg. $153,122

According to boxofficemojo, none of them are even among the top 100 grossing gay-themed films of all time. Only 1 2008 release, Shelter, has grossed over $100,000.

Not to say that gay films aren't making money, or getting made or being seen. Its just gay film festivals are more relevant than ever, Logo is easily filling its programming, and in a throwback to old school methods of gay distribution, mail order catalogues like TLA's have become an increasing form, which takes the act of watching farther into the private in a similar way beefcake magazines or gay porn did decades ago (and entire other problem, one that begs more consideration that I have to offer here, is how very, very white all the films are, and how predominant masculine pretty men and feminine pretty women are in the lead roles...)

But anyway, this is not the point of this entry. These conclusions and accusations have been drawn many a time, and I just spent four months analyzing them in a thesis. And maybe someday when Im done edits and defending the fucker, I'll share more. But what I'm trying to lead into is as Goldstein's RT ratings suggest, since Brokeback, there hasn't been really too much that's made me feel sorry for the works being screwed over by these changes in distribution. Its quite possible I just wasn't seeing enough, and because of these trends missed out on some very hidden gems that didn't see the light of day. But in the past few months, I've seen four gay-themed films that really deserve some attention: three documentaries.. Derek, Chris & Don: A Love Story and A Jihad For Love, and one narrative film.. Were The World Mine. And I fear they won't. The latter two docs are already in release, doing good business in very limited locations, and though I hope that they expand nicely, I would not bet on it. And one, World, doesn't even have a distributor.

I heard about Were The World Mine a month or so back, but kept missing its screenings. I missed it at Inside Out and wasn't around for NewFest, but when fellow iW-ers, Brian and Charlie raved about their viewings, I felt like I needed to catch up. So I asked the publicist for a screener, and he happily obliged. Which is always a tad risky, since I might have hated it, and then obviously would have no warm things to blog about. But this was not the case.

Were The World Mine is a musical inspired by A Midsummer Night's Dream. Directed by Tom Gustafson, it centers around a high school production of that very play, where a small town gay boy, Timothy (Tanner Cohen) finds a recipe hidden with the script for a love potion. In the form a purple "love pansy," Timothy know has a weapon of mass sexual disorientation, transforming his small town into a bunch of queers, including a very hot jock boy that Timothy pines over.

Extending the themes of Midsummer, Gustafson explores ideas of identity, love and sexuality with the help of vibrant imagery, great performances, excellent production value despite a very limited budget, and wonderfully executed musical numbers. Its not perfect, particularly if you pay close attention to the script, but its undoubtedly a joyous cinematic experience.

The film has played a couple mainstream fests - Florida and Nashville most notably - but mostly GLBT fests (winning audience awards left and right). Unfortunately, I watched this film alone, on a laptop, and it simply did not feel right. I needed an audience. I needed mutual cheers and mutual laughter. Were The World Mine doesn't belong in a DVD catalogue or on a download-site. It belongs in theatres.. not just in New York and not just in GLBT film festivals. Now, I can't imagine it won't get picked up (apparently the film is entertaining offers), but it remains to be seen whether it can overcome the gay-indie obstacles that have been facing past the festival circuit.

A former small-town gay myself, I am a sucker for this narrative, especially when its told originally and with the frankly unparalleled energy of Were The World Wine. And small town gay boys all over deserve to at least be able to take a trip to the nearest mid-size city to see this in a theatre. But they probably won't, and maybe they wouldn't even if they could. Maybe they'd rather watch Zac Efron and place naughty subtexts in their minds while doing so. Or maybe they'd rather watch reruns of Queer as Folk, taking it too seriously and breeding a new generation of shallow. Or maybe that's all a little harsh, and all they need is to experience something more innovative and more important. And I can only wish that Were The World Mine somehow plays a little role in doing that. On a big screen.

Though I understand its a tough sell and admit its a rough watch, the theatrical release of 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days wasn't supposed to go down like it did. It should have been nominated, and then won, the Best Foreign Language Film Oscar, reaping the benefits of such to gross at least $5 million. But it didn't get nominated. Or make the shortlist. And the significantly less-deserving The Counterfeiters reaped those benefits instead. But here's your chance to give the film the legacy it deserves. Its on DVD as of today, so there's no longer any excuse to have not seen it.

Because of the unexpected excitement I'm feeling re: this weekend's impending Sex and the City movie (and the fact that I am one episode away from finishing The Wire, which I'm saving for a Wire themed Friday night gathering, where were all drinking raw eggs in beer), I couldn't help but wonder: How much has television shaped my existence? Mostly because I need a break from editing ye ol' thesis, I did the following as a fun exercise in television nostalgia and reflection: Ranking series in terms of how influential they were at the time, or even now. Don't take it too seriously, and maybe just watch the clips, after the jump.

When I was in undergrad, one of my favourite professors obsessed over the idea of the "song of the summer." It was the year after 2003's undeniable champion "Crazy in Love," and he was upset by the fact that 2004 was looking like that rare year where no one takes the summer cake. And though its only May, I have already begun to keep an eye out for what might win 2008's crown, as meaningless titles are a bit of an obsession for myself as well.

And I'm not alone. Last year, The New York Times ran a piece about the idea, tracing its origins and predicting who might rule 2007:

It's an old-fashioned idea, but it was revived in the 1990s, with the dominance of hip-hop, when that genre pumped new life into silly love songs. Any brief history must include "I'll Be There for You/You're All I Need to Get By," the duet by Method Man and Mary J. Blige, which was ubiquitous in the summer of 1995. Open windows, crowded boardwalks, roofless cars, lazy barbecues: Somehow, summer's traditions combined to make big songs feel even bigger. And in 2005, it seemed as if the entire country was listening to Mariah Carey's "We Belong Together," which dominated the charts from May to September.

Last year, of course, the champion was perhaps the most secured since "Crazy in Love." In case you're not already clear:

And if I'm not mistaken, it was around this time last year when we first heard Rihanna's "ella"'s. The song actually reminds me of Cannes, as I think that was the first week of its months long heavy rotation on my iPod. "Umbrella" was a rare case for me, though. I usually crown my own personal summer song, and it almost never coincides with the true champion. Don't get me wrong, I have absolutely nothing against radio pop done right, but I prefer my pop euro-ish, and it seems these days the official song of the summer NEEDS an urban flare or it won't make the ranks.

This year, I expected the Timbaland/Pharrell influence of Madonna's new album to push one of the tracks into the summer limelight, but personally I don't know if they can cut it (they certainly can't for me.. the best track on the album is actually a remix, the "bonus" track of Paul Oakenfold's version of "Give It 2 Me"). Maybe Mariah Carey can make it 2 in 4 years, but again, I'm not rooting for that to happen (though "Touch My Body" HAS grown on me substantially). The four big releases between now and July - Usher, Coldplay, Missy Elliott and Nelly - are all fair game, but the first single on each of the albums doesn't make me want to bet on any of them.

For my personal winner, two big contenders are MGMT, particularly this (though their other track "Kids" was my song of the spring, which doesn't bode well.. there hasn't be a consecutive season champion since 2000's "Music"/"Don't Tell Me" Madonnafest):

And, with the best pop album I've heard in a long while, Robyn. I'd gladly nominate any of the following songs (in fact, any song on the album is better than the songs I've heard from the candidates I listed before):

And, if all else fails, Coolio is releasing an album in July. I'll admit, Gangstas Paradise WAS my song of the summer in 1995.

Besides The Wire, my other media poison has come in envelopes in the mail (though I must admit the wait for more Wire was so long that I got a bit angry at Zip and found alternative methods). I'm considering it an fun, alternative education to run along with the hell beside it, catching up on embarrassing "I haven't seen its".. Some major entries still on that list, that I'll just get out there now: The Lord of the Rings trilogy, Gone With The Wind, The Grand Illusion, Apocalypse Now... Go ahead, snicker.

But in keeping with the Baltimore theme, recent mailings included finishing my quest to watch or rewatch John Waters' entire available-on-DVD filmography, ending the list with Polyester, which was the one I'd never seen. Maybe it was the lack of OdorRama (the DVD didnt include this), but I found this to be my least favourite Divine outing. I like my Divine mad-crazy, and Francine Fishpaw's repressed and manipulated housewife, as fun to watch as she was, was no Dawn Davenport or Babs Johnson. On the plus side was Edith Massey's rags-to-riches sidekick, though I could watch Massey do pretty much anything (ex. eat eggs).

I was more impressed with a bunch of films I ordered as a result of seeing Serial Mom a few weeks ago. Ignorant to most of Kathleen Turner's resume, I took on back-to-back-to-back viewings of Lawrence Kasden's The Accidental Tourist, John Huston's Prizzi's Honor and Francis Ford Coppola's Peggy Sue Got Married. I enjoyed all three. Though Turner herself didn't have much to do in Tourist, William Hurt was great (and looks amazingly like Patrick Wilson in it), and the film offered an insightful character study that nailed the funny-sad mix and offered a cute (though certainly not Oscar worthy) opportunity for Geena Davis to star-make. Another best supporting actress winner, Anjelica Huston, was a bit more worthy in Prizzi's Honor, though I again suspect politics played more of a role in that win (aka whos your daddy). Prizzi's was my favourite of the three though, with, uh, killer, performances and chemistry between Turner and Jack Nicholson, and a perfect addition of humor into organized-crimes themes. Turner was at her best, though, in what was probably the worst of the films: Peggy Sue Got Married. Fun like Pleasantville or Back To The Future, Peggy is a flawed addition to the "What If..." genre, and features a wide array of "before they were stars" roles I had fun watching for: Jim Carrey, Joan Allen, Helen Hunt...

Finally, I figured I should catch up on my gay history before this fall's Milk mania and got the Oscar winning doc The Times of Harvey Milk. The film is pretty basic: Relays the information, interviews friends and onlookers, and tells an incredible and moving story that (note to Gus Van Sant), is pretty hard not to screw up. Not to at all bash the filmmakers, as the film offers some compelling stuff and they certainly did their homework, but Harvey Milk is a man whose story deserves nothing less than that. Towards the end, shots of an endless street filled with (hundreds of?) thousands of men and women holding candles in Milk's honor is a high point. I kept the disc for a few weeks and passed it around to anyone that hadn't watched it, most got back to me noting the doc moved them to tears and that they hadn't known the specifics of that story. So if you need to touch up on gay history or even American history, The Times of Harvey Milk is for you.

Times have got a bit more busy lately, so a pile of envelopes are awaiting a burst of laziness or writers blockery: Broadcast News, Broken English (I have a Parker Posey obsession) and Richard Linklater's Slacker (which I haven't seen since I was a teenager).. I hope to report back sooner rather than later...

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This made my day, somehow:

Deputies say a woman in western Kansas became stuck on her boyfriend's toilet after sitting on it for two years.

Ness County Sheriff Bryan Whipple said it appeared the 35-year-old Ness City woman's skin had grown around the seat.

Check the full glory out here.

Its been reported that you can now buy Nine Inch Nails' new all-instrumental album, Ghosts I-VI online.

For me, who spent his entire teenage-hood wearing oversized NIN shirts and renegotiating the lyrics of Pretty Hate Machine into a gay-angst-fest, this is pretty swell news. Especially since sex on wheels Trent Reznor used to take like 10 years to put out each album, now hes throwing them out left and right (mind you, to a lesser quality, in my opinion).

But this totally-out-of-nowhere disc seems to be a bit of a throwback to old NIN, and consists of 36 instrumental tracks and features collaborations with the Dresden Dolls' Brian Viglione and guitarist Adrian Belew. On his site, Reznor describes the all-instrumental album as "a soundtrack for daydreams."

You can get the whole deal for 5 bucks, or a few tracks for free. And from what I've heard of it (I sampled the eight free tracks first, though I intend to buy I swear), his description is pretty much spot on, and it personally made for a blissfully zoned-out transit-fest this morning.

I guess this kind of an advertisement, but I one I endorse with honesty. Zip.ca (Canada's Netflix) has become a welcome part of my day-to-day since last September, filling my mailbox with a weekly supply of both escapism and better-late-than-never film history education - for a fraction of what it would have cost to walk my cold ass to MovieLand and rent them.

So I figured with the Oscars almost over I need to have something to write about, so from time to time I'll make some recommendations (which obviously don't need to be rented through zip) based on the mailman's cometh.

Since its been many months, I have a long list of like and dislikes at this point, so I figure I'll just do an overall summary as opposed to a one-shot-deal:

My inaugural zip envelope contain Ellen Hovde and Albert Maysles' Grey Gardens, the reality-TV precursor (but so much more) about Big & Little Edie, Jackie O's aunt and cousin who live in filthy seclusion on Long Island. I watched it twice in one week and I can't see how anyone wouldn't want to the same. Some other before-my-time films that I'm also kind of embarrassed to say was my first time around (but at least I'm doing it now!): Sidney Lumet's Dog Day Afternoon, a Bergman duet of Fanny and Alexander and Scenes From a Marriage, Woody Allen's Manhattan, John Waters' Desperate Living, Derek Jarman's Sebastiane and Robert Altman's 3 Women. I could go on about each and every one, and you've likely heard about one or all of them from somebody (or seen them yourselves), but they should all find their way into your DVD player in the future. There's also a collection of short films by Francois Ozon (called X2000) thats really incredible, and actually contained this short where about a woman giving a blowjob while humming (I won't ruin the end) that I'd seen in my early teens on Canada's Friday night "Showcase Revue" that totally stuck with me and I always wondered if the whole thing had been a dream.

Recently, I got mildly obsessed with Kathleen Turner after watching Serial Mom (though this was probably my 5th time) and did a mini-marathon one weekend, watching Prizzi's Honor, Peggy Sue Got Married, The Accidental Tourist and The War of the Roses... all of which (gasp!), I have never seen. I'm eagerly awaiting Body Heat but realize there is not much beyond this worth viewing (I unfortunately HAVE seen V.I. Warchowski or however you spell it - as a child accidentally - and perhaps this was the reason I avoided Ms. Turner until now).

Either way, if you already have a NetFlix or Zip or whatever, you understand how easy it makes it to organize a list of films you know you SHOULD have seen, and work on your own film education. You can avoid group responses like "You HAVEN'T SEEN that?" at social events, instead actually having something to say. Do it:

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Manohla Dargis wrote a near-perfect review of Cristian Mungiu's 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days in today's New York Times. The film (which has a top-ten-of-all-time score of 98 on metacritic, leaving No Country, Blood and Diving Bell in its dust.), opens on a couple screens today in the US (its actually been out in Canada since November), and I'd advise anyone who hasn't seen it to take Dargis' advice:

You may already have heard something about "4 Months," which was awarded the Palme d'Or at the Cannes Film Festival last year, only to be shut out from Academy Award consideration a few weeks ago by the philistines who select the foreign-language nominees. The Oscars are absurd, yet they can help a microscopically budgeted foreign-language film find a supportive audience. And "4 Months" deserves to be seen by the largest audience possible, partly because it offers a welcome alternative to the coy, trivializing attitude toward abortion now in vogue in American fiction films, but largely because it marks the emergence of an important new talent in the Romanian writer and director Cristian Mungiu.

After the joy of creating my cinematic top 10 a few days back, I decided to take a stab at a lesser-qualified list, music. I love year-end music lists because it gives me the opportunity to go download a few dozen songs I missed from the year to keep me going through the generally drab group of releases that happens in market-low January and February. Though certainly as much a part of my life as film, I've never felt particularly informed on music. But my iTunes suggests, its there for me everyday, and 2007 found a good thousand tracks added to my iTunes library.

The list that follows is nothing out of the ordinary. It varies drastically from true artists whose entire albums could have made a top 100 list to manufactured pop sluts whose album found more of a place in my iPod rotation than I had expected. Its loosely representative of said library's "most listened" function, though I decided to exclude artist repeats (or else Feist would have five songs in my top twenty), and tinkered with the rankings (the pop-hook-that-makes-you-repeat-it qualities of songs like Rihanna's "Umbrella" made it the unchallenged #1 most-listened), to create a good representation of the 25 songs that found themselves in heavy rotation in my 2007 ears.

Multiples from artists that deserve a slot despite my "rules": The Arcade Fire - Intervention; Feist - I Feel It All & My Moon, My Man; Britney Spears - Piece of Me; LCD Soundsystem - North American Scum; M.I.A. - Jimmy; Lily Allen - LDN; Amy Winehouse - You Know I'm No Good; Bloc Party - The Prayer; Nine Inch Nails - In This Twilight; Bjork - Innocence