Lewis Porteous
Oh ‘Glasgay!’ how you torment me. Why must events of universal appeal be held under your homosexual auspices?
To date, I have attended two Glasgay!-affiliated shows: a screening of La Cage aux Folles and a performance by former Perrier Comedy Award best newcomer Scott Capurro. Both evenings turned out to be great fun. However, the build-up to each was fraught with confusion and neurosis.
Though I have admittedly been described as “fiercely heterosexual” in the past, this is only true to the extent that I am prepared to erect amateur scaffolding outside my flat, so that I may freely leer at women, basking in the immunity from decent social values that a high visibility fluorescent vest bestows upon its wearer.
The truth is that when Glasgay!’s program of Tennessee Williams plays and film screenings was announced, my first thoughts were not “Oh shit, what if I go and a gay person does something gay to me?” but rather “Oh brilliant, I love Tennessee Williams! But, oh no, wait, what if someone from around Uni who once accused me of being gay just because I had my shirt tucked in, spots me exiting the cinema and feels vindicated by the events to which they’re bearing witness?” I could never live that down. My impotent anger would only escalate in tandem with their heightened senses of savvy and intuition.
So, while I certainly won’t be attending the run of films, anyone with any real principles or backbone ought to. Williams’ plays ploughed an intensely personal furrow of social examination, and their unflinching, often confessional nature has rarely been rivalled since.
His dialogue is so robust that it would hold up to even the most am-dram of productions, but from the mouths of such luminaries as Marlon Brando, Liz Taylor and the late Paul Newman, it shines, and provides his casts with among their most iconic roles.
As well as including more obvious fare such as ‘A Streetcar Named Desire’ and ‘Cat on a Hot Tin Roof,’ the programme will also take in the lesser-known adaptations of ‘Baby Doll,’ ‘This Property is Condemned,’ ‘The Night of the Iguana,’ ‘Blood Kin,’ ‘Sweet Bird of Youth,’ the Kirk Douglas fronted ‘The Glass Menagerie’ and the audacious ‘Boom.’ Though Williams’ work very rarely descends into high camp, purists may be reassured that the latter’s hugely flamboyant 10 minute Noel Coward cameo is more than enough to warrant the whole body of films a place in the festival.
