To Wong Foo Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmari enjoys the not inconsiderable distinction of putting forth the absolute best wardrobe I've ever seen in cinema. Ever, best ever, think about it.ii The scenography more generally's acceptable though not capable of bearing quite such extreme claims, and the general photography's middlingly unremarkable ; but with the solitary exception of a technicolor Spanish hat that absolutely should have been crimson red (and not the TV carmine they use throughout) there's nothing but sheer fabulous perfection decking the trannies throughout.
Which brings us to the actual actors. There's a twin problem here, one... horn, let's say, of which being that Wesley Snipes never in his born days looked as good presenting dude as Noxeema does presenting femme.
How's that for a conversation-ending bomb! I don't know if it's because he's black or because what, but honestly I can't look at anything with or about him anymore and not think it's really Noxeema in counteriii-drag (and to her detriment). Really, it's ended his acting career, as far as I'm concerned.
The other... horn, let's still say, is that at no point during any of the frolics does Patrick Swayze look like anything other, besides or beyond Patrick-fucken-Swayze. It's like a case of those idiots on reddit or wherever they pusstulate, putting hats on cats and thinking they've done something while the cat's just there frowning at the idiocy, very self-obviously, duly and plainly a cat someone put some shit on. It doesn't stick to him, at all, it doesn't alter one iota, he'd have been just as much in drag by simply holding a piece of paper indicating through labeling the intended transformation, kabuki-style.
I don't know if it's because he's white, or because unlike Noxeema he's not a damned faggotiv, or what exactly, but the contrast's uncanny.
Definitely worth seeing, though the script's atrociously terrible, I mean Mystery Science Theater level of broken nonsense.———
- 1995, by Beeban Kidron, with a pre-tax Wesley Snipes, Patrick Swayze and I guess John Leguizamo (we're not mentioning the fat fuck who ruined Reservoir Dogs like he ruins everything he's ever into with his lengthy monologues of pure ham).
The title comes from the characters' obsession with the original catwoman, which is why her likeness thrones over the proceedings. It's a joke, see, because she's going to stuff herself into a box ? Get it ?
Anyway, she's pretty hot from behind. She's also pleasing from the front, as far as nature endowed her, except she's also greatly suffering under the considerable burdens of living among idiots. She did her part posing, like a good girl ; but the imbecile photographer can't use the damned tools, just look at this massacre :
Dear apprentice butchers / amateur photographers (whether you "work" for the church of photographical atrocity calling itself Playboy or not) : there are specific, pre-ordained cuts the human body may undertake while being photographed, and the female leg contains none such past the knee. Meaning that if you get her knee in there, you get all her foot in there, NO EXCEPTIONS. Fucktard really needed that mile of sky up there, that's what they pay him for, amateur daylight astronomy in the optical range.
- Not fucking kidding! The young ("jewish") hussy's memorable white geddup in Ivanhoe is memorable, but just a piece ; there's others, "three or four", but here it's everything, just absolutely everything. [↩]
- Or however the fuck do you call it. What's it called when bitches dress up in dude ? [↩]
- Do you suppose it's actually true all black men are gay ? I mean, it used to be fashionable consensus not so long ago ; meanwhile it became just as unfashionable just as consensus. But as to the truth of the matter, are blacks basically like women, sexually ambiguous naturally, essentially an' substantially ?
The questions for the ages. [↩]