Next Lobotomy Room Film Club: Macao (1952) on 16 February 2023

  

There is no place like it on earth. Macao in the China Seas across the bay from British Hong Kong. Where gambling is the heavy industry and smuggling and dope peddling come as naturally as eating. To this island of commercial sin comes Nick, a young grifter wanted back in the States – and Nora, a girl who never got the breaks. Both hard as nails, cynical, strangers. And on the same boat, posing as a salesman, comes a hard-boiled New York cop, sent out to capture a fugitive-racketeer is now the Frankie Costello of Macao …

Into this hotbed of espionage, intrigue and murder, three people take refuge! 

Robert Mitchum - living on velvet … loving the same way! 

Jane Russell - whose song belies … the fear in her heart! 

William Bendix - whose stock in trade … is danger! 

Yes, this is Macao – port of peril. Where boy meets girl too late! The risks they run …  the chances they take … fighting to remain together in a dangerous paradise!

On 16 February the Lobotomy Room film club (motto: Bad Movies for Bad People) whisks you away to the steamy Portuguese colony of Macao for this sordid noir thriller! Sure, the Times’ critic reportedly dismissed Macao as “melodramatic junk”, but I side with deviant queer film scholar Boyd McDonald, who concluded “Macao is, arguably, perfect.” 

Macao’s major selling point is the sullen dream duo of Robert Mitchum and Jane Russell, who effortlessly match other for tough wry humour and torpid impudence. As McDonald notes in his volume of essays Cruising the Movies (2015), “out of habit rather than anything in the script, the stars of Macao – and under their spell, the supporting players and extras – loiter about leering and sneering at each other, giving attitude. The attitude is one of contempt mixed with lust – an insolent craving, a concupiscent scorn … the players look as though they can’t stand the sight of each other, yet want to suck each other off … Russell, gifted with articulate nostrils and some slight imperfection in the nerves or muscles about her lips, is especially good at competitive sneering.” Seriously – how can you resist? 

Adding to the intrigue: temperamental veteran filmmaker Josef von Sternberg (the visionary behind all those great 1930s Marlene Dietrich films) was exhumed from semi-retirement to direct Macao but when preview audiences grumbled the film was too art-y and weird, an uncredited Nicholas Ray (of Johnny Guitar (1954) and Rebel without a Cause (1955) fame) was assigned to shoot additional scenes! Watch as well for delectable bad girl Gloria Grahame in a supporting role! 

Lobotomy Room Goes to the Movies is the FREE monthly film club devoted to cinematic perversity! Third Thursday night of every month downstairs at Fontaine’s bar in Dalston! Two drink minimum (inquire about the special offer £6 cocktail menu!). Numbers are limited, so reserving in advance via Fontaine’s website is essential. Alternatively, phone 07718000546 or email bookings@fontaines.bar to avoid disappointment! The film starts at 8:30 pm. Doors to the basement Bamboo Lounge open at 8:00 pm. To ensure everyone is seated and cocktails are ordered in time, please arrive by 8:15 pm at the latest.

Facebook event page

Reflections on ... Secret Ceremony (1968)

/ Italian movie poster for Secret Ceremony via /

Glittering hedonists Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton were the foremost show business power couple of the last century. (I’m sorry, but Kanye and Kim who?). As world-famous and tabloid-friendly as the tempestuous, jet-setting and hard-drinking duo were, the actual films they made together and individually during their marriage were mostly notorious mega-bombs. Some, though, were genuinely interesting and deserve reappraisal. Take, For instance, Secret Ceremony (1968).

Pop culture theorist Camille Paglia has rhapsodized about the impact of seeing Secret Ceremony on its original release. “One of the most spectacular moments of my movie-going career occurred in college as I watched Joseph Losey’s bizarre Secret Ceremony,” she would recall in her essay “Elizabeth Taylor: Hollywood’s Pagan Queen” in the March 1992 issue of Penthouse magazine. “Halfway through the film, inexplicably and without warning, Elizabeth Taylor in a violet velvet suit and turban suddenly walks across the screen in front of a wall of sea-green tiles. It is an overcast London day; the steel-grey light makes the violet and green iridescent. This is Elizabeth Taylor at her most vibrant, mysterious and alluring at the peak of her mature fleshy glamour. I happened to be sitting with a male friend, one of the gay aesthetes who had such a profound impact on my imagination. We both cried out at the same time, alarming other theatregoers. This vivid silent tableau is for me one of the classic scenes in the history of cinema.”

/ A vision in violet: via /

Seen today, peculiar London-set late 1960s psychodramas Secret Ceremony is the type of film John Waters would describe as a “failed art movie” – but that’s one of my favourite genres, and if you’re going to make a failed art movie, make it this wildly baroque, weird and claustrophobic! Screen diva Taylor (at the zenith of her zaftig double-chinned, caftan-wearing era) stars as Leonara, a blowsy middle-aged prostitute tormented by the memory of the death of her young daughter by drowning. One day profoundly disturbed and deluded poor little rich girl Cenci (post-Rosemary’s Baby Mia Farrow at her most waif-like) latches onto her and decides Leonara represents the return of her recently-deceased mother, dragging her back to her haunted art nouveau mansion in Holland Park. Leonora soon clashes with Robert Mitchum as Albert, Cenci’s sexually predatory stepfather. From there things just get progressively more twisted!

/ Elizabeth Taylor: the caftan years (albeit a caftan by Dior) /

/ Frankly psychotic nymphette Cenci. You may find Farrow's performance begins to grate as the film progresses /

Secret Ceremony keeps threatening to turn into a horror movie and never quite delivers – but it is satisfyingly jarring and gothic, nonetheless. Taylor in shrewish bitch goddess-mode is hypnotically compelling as only she can be. At one point, Leonara hungrily gobbles a big fried breakfast and loudly belches – a moment worthy of Divine! There’s a reason Taylor is revered as a campy queer icon! (Cruelly, the film repeatedly draws attention to Taylor’s matronly weight. “I’m so fat!” Leonara wails to Cenci, surveying herself in a mirror. Later, Albert tells Leonara “You look more like a cow than my late wife. No offense - I'm very fond of cows”).  The fragile and intense Farrow hams it up as a demented child-like pixie. Secret Ceremony is effortlessly stolen from them both, though, by the torpid Mitchum, who breathes complexity and humanity into the perverse role of Albert.  

/ Gruesome twosome: Albert (Robert Mitchum) and Cenci (Mia Farrow) /

/ The bathtub scene was apparently considered the hint of depravity in 1968, hinting at both lesbianism and incest /

No spoilers, but out of this freakily dysfunctional trio, only one will survive and they will mutter to themselves, “There were two mice fell in a bucket of milk. One yelled for help and drowned. The other kept pedaling around until, in the morning, he found himself on top of butter”. Watch for the closing credits, which announce Taylor’s wardrobe is via Dior and her hairstyles by Alexandre de Paris. The film is like a lesbianic, female-centred version of director Joseph Losey’s earlier, more celebrated movie The Servant (1963). Secret Ceremony almost certainly suffered at the box office by the failure of the even-more berserk Boom! (1968), the flop film based on a Tennessee Williams play Losey made with Taylor and Burton that same year - another movie I love!

Further reading:

My analysis of the other Elizabeth Taylor / Joseph Losey "failed art movie"of 1968 - the infamous Boom! - here.

The essential Dreams Are What Le Cinema is For blog goes in-depth on Secret Ceremony here.

Dr Sketchy 4 October 2010 Set List

/ Above: Perma-pouting film noir icon Gloria Grahame in sweater girl mode, demonstrating how best to fill out a bullet bra /

Getting to the venue was a chaotic, sweat-drenched nightmare, but even the tube strike didn't dampen what turned out to be a fun night. The featured performer and model was Beau Burlington. For one of her poses she worked a motorcycle mama / rock chick look (black leather jacket, long black boots), so I cranked up some female-fronted rockabilly: Wanda Jackson, Jackie De Shannon and a sultry psychobilly deconstruction of the old Peggy Lee standard “Woman” by my old mates Empress of Fur.

For one of Beau’s earlier poses I played a great new discovery. I love the jazz staple “Caravan”, and this accordion-driven version by The Dell Trio is the most berserk I’ve ever heard – so lurching, abrasive and frantic, it sounds like it could be played under the opening credits of a horror film. Listen to it here on the great blog The Homoerratic Radio Show.

Little Ole Wine Drinker Me - Robert Mitchum
Stranger in My Own Home Town - The Earls of Suave
Love Potion # 9 - Nancy Sit
Tonight You Belong to Me - Patience and Prudence
Drums A Go Go - The Hollywood Persuaders
Oh Lonesome Me - Ann-Margret
You Ain't Nothin' But a Hound Dog - Little Esther
Yogi - Bill Black Combo
Oo Bala Baby - Mamie van Doren
Hearts Made of Stone - Otis William & The Charms
I'll Upset You Baby - Lula Reed
Poontang - The Treniers
Fool I Am - Pat Ferguson
My Heart Goes Piddily Patter Patter - Nappy Brown
I Would if I Could - Ruth Brown
Too Old to Cut the Mustard - Marlene Dietrich & Rosemary Clooney
Honey Rock - Barney Kessel
Comin' Home - The Delmonas
Gizmo - Jimmy Heaps
Tight Skirt, Tight Sweater - The Versatones
Caravan - The Dell Trio
Teach Me Tonight - Dinah Washington
Too Close for Comfort - Eartha Kitt
Yes Sir, That's My Baby - Ann Richards
Baby Won't You Please Come Home - Julie London
Spring, Sprang, Sprung - Jack Fascinato
I Wanna Be Loved - Ann-Margret
Les Feuilles Mortes - Juliette Greco
Autumn Leaves - Eartha Kitt
Petite Fleur - Chet Baker
Crazy Horse Swing - Serge Gainsbourg (Strip-tease soundtrack)
My Heart Belongs to Daddy - Hildegard Knef
Tuxedo Junction - Bill Black Combo
I Did What You Told Me - Adam Faith (Beat Girl soundtrack)
Woh! Woh! Yea - The Dynamos
If I Could Be with You - Mae West
Night Scene - The Rumblers
Lucky - Lizabeth Scott
Beaver Shot - The Periscopes
Woman - Empress of Fur
You Don't Know, Baby - Wanda Jackson
Trouble - Jackie De Shannon
The Strip - The Upsetters
Harlem Nocturne - The Viscounts
L'Eau à La Bouche - Serge Gainsbourg
Strip-tease - Nico (Strip-tease soundtrack)
Misirlou - Laurindo Almeida
You're My Thrill - Chet Baker (instrumental version)
Mack the Knife - Hildegard Knef
Begin the Beguine - Billy Fury
Boulevard of Broken Dreams / Fever - Sam Butera
I Wanna Be Loved by You - Marilyn Monroe
Everybody Loves My Baby - Brigitte Bardot

Sleazy does it ... my all-time favourite actor, the ultra-suave Robert Mitchum, was an underrated singer.



Resident emcee Dusty Limits suggested the theme "autumn" -- a good excuse to play Juliette Greco's version of the classic chanson "Les Feuilles Mortes", followed by Eartha Kitt singing the English language version, "Autumn Leaves." Here La Greco gives an exquisite and intense performance of "Les Feuilles Mortes" on German TV in the early 70s -- but check out how stony-faced and unmoved the tuxedo-clad audience is at the end. Tough crowd!



People often ask me, So what kind of music do you play at Dr Sketchy? Obviously it covers a wide range of various styles of kitsch and vintage sleaze, but strictly speaking the technical term for much of what I play is “Tittyshaker.” Think desperate, grinding instrumentals propelled by honking saxophone designed for strippers to rotate their nipple tassels to; the soundtracks of grainy black and white 1950s and 60s sexploitation B-movies; sequinned go-go dancers writhing in a cage ... and you’re on the right track. If you're curious to hear more, this excellent website is devoted to the dark art of the tittyshaker.

A prime example ...



For all your Dr Sketchy needs, go to the website.