A Carrolling We Will Go

Do Not Fold, Spindle, Mutilate or Mame

Very special THANKS

Supremely Sketchy

Who'll Be Turning Joo On?

She will, she will, she will!

We hope you have some togetherness this weekend, darlings!

Gypsies, Tramps and...

Eat Your Heart Out

"Too thin is too thin, especially when you get older and all the veins show...Diana Ross looks like she just arrived from Ethopia." - Dame Judith Anderson

Reflections

Diana Ross, 1973

Ginger Rogers, 1942

Sister Act

The Happening

We can only dream that Lucy croaked out "Love Child."

Evolution

Walk Like an Egyptian

Time Warp

Picture it, New York, 1978: Merv Griffin and his guests -- Ethel Merman, Shelley Winters and Alexis Smith -- discuss Broadway, Chita Rivera, "A Lovely Bunch of Cocoanuts," disco, Studio 54, Bob Mackie, and the opening of Smith's cult flop musical, Platinum, in what may be the gayest 13 minutes you'll ever spend in your life.

One Woman

...but of course, when you're Miss-Ross-to-You, who needs the other two?

Dancing Lady

"It was tough dancing in high heels, but we did change the heels to more of a dance shoe - like a Capezio. You know they kept giving me these skinny high heels and it's like 'Okay, I understand those. My mother wore those.' However, when I was growing up and I saw girls in the chorus, they had a thicker heel and it was a dance shoe and I kept telling them to find those shoes. I knew they existed, and finally they brought out a shoe and I said 'That's the shoe! Now make it in many colors'." - John Travolta



Darlings, if Poseidon's Underworld (from whence we stole these uber-fab images) is not a frequent stop on your blog itinerary, it should be. If your personal A-Z of fabulousness includes Ann Sothern, Brenda Vaccaro, Christopher Atkins, Dana Wynter, Edith Head, Finola Hughes, Gil Gerard, Hugh O'Brian, Irwin Allen, James Franciscus, Karen Black, Lynda Day George, Merle Oberon, Nancy Drew, Olivia de Havilland, Perry King, Ruth Roman, Stella Stevens, Ty Hardin, Virginia Grey, William Holden, Yvette Mimieux and Zorro - well, that's why you're here! But Poseidon3 takes the same icons that SSUWAT holds near and dear, and fleshes them out in breathtaking, enviable detail. You'll have a ball, and spend hours, perusing his funny, thoughtful, scrupulously researched posts. Reading his entries is almost as fun and delightful as watching the So-Swoonily-Bad-They're-Fabulous movies that he loves. So put on your Carol Lynley hot pants and pay him a visit today, and every day, won't you? Bless you.

Some Enchanted Evening?

We came out of Mitzi Gaynor's opening night at Feinstein's at the Regency on May 18 liking her so much, we wish we could give her one woman show, Razzle Dazzle: My Life Behind the Sequins, an unqualified rave - especially since it marks the veteran star's New York nightclub debut. Ain't that a kick in the head? After sixty-plus years in films, on television, and on nightclub and casino stages across the globe, La Gaynor has never taken a bite out of the Big Apple.

So when the still-curvaceous, glamorous Gaynor made her grand entrance on Tuesday evening, she was greeted with an ovation that can only be described as tumultuous. It was the climax of a steady hum of delicious tension and expectation which had charged the air with electricity as the audience awaited the start of a hotly-anticipated engagement.

90 minutes later, we exited the ballroom at Feinstein's curiously elated, but a little baffled and wondering what had just happened. Gaynor's song selections were wildly random (ranging from the expected South Pacific medley to a relatively new number from now-defunct Broadway hit The Drowsy Chaperone), and, we're sorry to report, largely forgettable. Gaynor's greatest assets during her heyday were her charm, vivacity, glamour, great gams, and her sparkling dancing ability. Today, she has charm and vivacity in spades; her glamour, especially as presented in six outrageous Bob Mackie confections, is as potent as ever; and her gams still look splendid. But whether it was because of the confines of the small-ish, awkwardly set up stage in the ballroom of the Regency, or Gaynor's own reluctance to shake her booty at age 78 ("I don't wanna show off no more," she sang, perhaps tellingly, in that number from Chaperone), there were few of the terpsichorean fireworks she once displayed on her legendary television specials. Gaynor's voice was never a prime strength, and now that she relies on it much more than her leggy high-kicking, its limitations are brought sharply into focus.

What kept the audience rapt with attention, then (besides the flouncy entrances with each new Mackie gown), was Gaynor's warmth, piss elegant humor, and magnetic storytelling abilities. She told more than a few howlers; we were in stitches, but her anecdotes, hysterical as they were, tended to ramble and lasted longer than her musical numbers. Which leads us to this conclusion: Mitzeleh (as her friend The Merm used to call her) would be best served nowadays by a touring Q&A program, rather than a full-scale nightclub act. If, as she sang, she doesn't want to "show off no more" - and one left Feinstein's feeling that all Mitzi really wants to do is tell salty stories and look glamorous - then she could sit down on stages with, say, Charles Busch or Bruce Vilanch or Rex Reed; reminisce, tell her tales, and show her vintage clips (which she does screen in her Feinstein's act, and which only serves to remind you of what you're not seeing in the current show). Gaynor did a program like this, in fact, a few years back in Los Angeles, we believe, with great success.

If, however, she truly does still have the urge to get up there and sing her heart out, Gaynor would be wise to eschew the overblown arrangements (her thin, wobbly voice had to compete with the synthesized strings and horns), trim the fat (a few, well-chosen, well-placed anecdotes), and tighten up the program with a carefully selected repertoire of songs which suit her style and range.

Mitzi's at Feinstein's through May 27th. Do we recommend that you go see her? Yes, so long as you know what you're getting into. It may not be the best nightclub act you've ever seen, but you'll have a hell of a good time.

Who's the Boss?

Full disclosure here: we could never, ever be 100%, completely impartial when it comes to Diana Ross. We know every eyelash flutter, every hair toss, every nuance to a tee. We don't only love "Ain't No Mountain High Enough," "Touch Me in the Morning" or "Baby Love" - we will defend the merits of "I Am Me," "Girls," and "Nobody Makes Me Crazy Like You Do" to the death. Having said that, being comparatively sane, we also temper this devotion to all things Ross with a healthy dose of realism, and are affectionately, chidingly remonstrating towards "our diva" when we feel that she doesn't perform to what we know are the best of her abilities. (See: "I Am Me," "Girls," and "Nobody Makes Me Crazy Like You Do," respectively, we say to thee.)

So our feelings about Miss Ross' sold out return to Radio City Music Hall on Wednesday night are decidedly mixed. On the plus side: the 66 year old supreme Supreme still looks absolutely divalicious, her figure now becomingly anointed with the pleasing curves which once eluded The Skinny One in the Middle; she sounds better than she has in years, her whispery, breathy tone satisfyingly (and surprisingly) robust; and most important, she seems to be relaxed, happy, and having a ball on stage. When La Ross made her grand entrance to the strains of "The Boss," bedecked in Bob Mackie's black and silver sequins and chartreuse feathers, we knew from her electric smile and commanding body language that she was not - as she has admittedly done in recent years - just going through the motions. The charge between performer and audience was instantly combustible, and we're not quite sure who was pumping whom up - but it mattered little, as the result was the same: a dynamic, iconic star who was suddenly performing as if she remembered her stature and calling as an entertainer of the first rank - and not just a respected nostalgia act.

Another notch in Ross' belt this time out: her decision to tour with a tight, top-notch 15-piece orchestra, including a live horn and string section, giving symphonic heft to her dazzling, exhaustive catalog of hits - which, if you'll remember, were all recorded with wonderful live musicians, and not a coterie of synthesizers and gadgets. And, speaking of that catalog of hits, consider this: Ross' 28-song set list on Wednesday contained no fewer than sixteen Billboard Number One hits - and she left out nine others. Can any other diva, of any age, making the concert rounds this summer come even close to that tally?

On the down side, Ross' pacing seemed off: the evening grew increasingly ballad-heavy, and even just one or two more uptempo numbers sprinkled in between would have been welcome. The evening's dramatic, heartfelt closing was a tribute to Michael Jackson, which merged Ross' 1984 #1 R&B hit, "Missing You," with Jackson's "You are Not Alone," then segued into a single verse of the tender title track from Ross' most recent, Top 40 album, I Love You (2007). Although the sentiment was clearly from the heart, it seemed almost anticlimactic, following as it did a thunderous performance of Ross' personal anthem, "Ain't No Mountain High Enough," and a surprisingly effective, energetic encore of the tired disco warhorse "I Will Survive."

Also, Ross' famed interaction with her audience has grown increasingly remote in recent years; although she was clearly thrilled with, and appreciative of, the tumultuous reception that New York gave her, there was little to no patter between songs, no strolls through the audience, no reaching out and touching. And it would have been nice to hear some truly rare, seldom-performed songs in the 100 minute set: while we understand that Ross simply can't omit the biggest hits from her repertoire, "What About Love," an admittedly pretty ballad from the I Love You collection, and "Why Do Fools Fall in Love" - probably her most throwaway solo hit - could easily have been replaced by, say, "It's My Turn" or "Remember Me."

In her defense, though, Ross' set list has more or less been the same for nearly a decade or more, and the changes she did make were welcome: full length versions of Supremes classics she hasn't done complete renditions of in a long time, such as "Reflections," "You Can't Hurry Love," and "Come See About Me"; the surprising inclusion of a little-known ballad that Luther Vandross wrote and produced for her 1987 Red Hot Rhythm & Blues album, "It's Hard for Me to Say," delivered as a bittersweet elegy to her 1960's Motown colleagues; and, while it's not an unfamiliar addition to her shows, Billie Holiday's torchy "Don't Explain" benefited from the diva's stunning new phrasing and interpretation, things the glossy Ross is not often credited with.

In the end, though, our criticisms really stem from the fact that we truly believe that Diana Ross should be held in the same regard and esteem as a Streisand or Minnelli (well...Minnelli, pre-Gest), and while she's undoubtedly a legend and an icon, as an artist, we feel that Diana has never been given her due respect. And when she falls short of the superhuman standards we set for her (and which, at the very pinnacle of her powers, she often achieved), we're only disappointed because we want everyone to also know that she's a winner, baby! Judging by the comments as the audience left Radio City, almost everyone was blown away. (And we keep reiterating: we cannot believe how strong her voice sounded.) It's just that we know she could be even better. As it was, Diana Ross gave 110% of herself at Radio City on Wednesday night, and brought the house down. Brother, if she had given 120%, she would have absolutely leveled midtown, the boroughs, and possibly New Jersey. On that you can depend and never worry.

Counting Down...

Counting Down...

Reach Out and Touch

As our friends out there in bloggersville face adversity and challenges, let's remember Miss Ross' mantra:

Reach out and touch,

somebody's hand.

Make this world a better place,

if you can.

And, of course, do it while wearing a purple sequined Bob Mackie cape dripping with a dozen white fox furs. If you can. We love you!

May Mackie Madness

We admit it: beneath our cool, sophisticated exterior, we're big ol' girls who are a-twitter with excitement over two upcoming events: Mitzi Gaynor's New York cabaret debut on May 18 (alas, at Feinstein's at the Regency - but we're willing to suffer for Mitz) and Diana Ross' return to Radio City Music Hall on May 19. We're willing to bet that at least one-third to one-half of the tri-state area's gays will be at one or both of these Homopaloozas, so we look forward to seeing at least a few of our readers. Let us know if you'll be there!