The Next Lobotomy Room Film Club: Lady in a Cage (1964) on 20 July 2023

 

“Help! I am trapped in a small private elevator!” Seriously - don’t you just hate it when that happens? That’s the dilemma that befalls genteel, affluent widowed poetess Cornelia Hilyard (Olivia de Havilland). She’s recuperating from a broken hip; her son is away for the weekend – and the small private elevator in question malfunctions, leaving her trapped between floors. And just then, when Cornelia is at her most vulnerable, a gang of feral delinquents break into her home …

Berserk 1964 thriller Lady in a Cage is firmly in the post-Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? hagsploitation tradition (interestingly, the lead role was originally offered to Joan Crawford.  And the same year de Havilland co-starred opposite Bette Davis in that other hagsploitation classic, Hush … Hush, Sweet Charlotte (1964)). Won’t you join us on Thursday 20 July when the free monthly Lobotomy Room cinema club (devoted to Bad Movies for Bad People) presents Lady in a Cage? But take note of the leading lady’s warning: “Do Not See Lady in a Cage Alone! It is a shocking picture with a terrifying theme! No holds are barred in Lady in a Cage. So, take somebody along and hold onto them – for dear life!” There will be safety in numbers downstairs at Fontaine’s cocktail lounge – and stiff cocktails to steady your nerves!

 

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 cocktail lounge in Dalston! 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 on time, please arrive by 8:15 pm at the latest.

Facebook event page.

/ Below: the truly nutty original trailer for Lady in a Cage / 

Reflections on ... Full Leather Jackets by Sue Webster

 

Sue Webster achieved fame and success in the post-Young British Artist era with her then-husband Tim Noble. Following their separation in 2013, the 56-year-old Leicester-born multi-media conceptualist re-visited her teenage obsessions for fresh inspiration as a solo artist. One of those obsessions: hero worship for life-changing punk band Siouxsie and The Banshees. As Webster recently told the Evening Standard, it prompted a new direction for her art: “I based it on a theory that everything I’ve ever learnt in life was from listening to Siouxsie’s first four albums.” (Me too, Sue! Me, too!). 

During lockdown, Webster began daubing naïve outsider art-style portraits of spooky punk high priestess Siouxsie onto vintage black leather motorcycle jackets sourced from Spitalfields Market. (One of these efforts was prominently displayed in the first “Monster” room of the recent visionaryHorror Show exhibit at Somerset House). 

Webster’s current “Full Leather Jackets” exhibit in Hackney Wick collates all these works. I went yesterday with my friend Sam and was entranced! It felt like an afternoon of Siouxsie worship! Here are my pics. Alongside the customized biker jackets, the exhibit includes re-printed pages from Webster’s adolescent diary. My favourite entry begins something like “Dad confiscated my hair crimpers …” 

In the Evening Standard piece, Webster recalls the brain-scrambling impact of coming across a black-and-white photo of Siouxsie in the music press aged 11. That mirrors my experience exactly: it was seeing a grainy pic of Siouxsie in all her cadaverous glory in a magazine when I was in my early teens that planted the idea of moving to London. (All these decades later, I’m still unsure whether to be grateful to her or not!).

Further thoughts: 

One funny thing Webster noted: in the old days of the music press before the internet, you'd turn to the ads to mail order your punk and New Wave t-shirts, badges and accessories (especially if you didn’t live in London). She wanted to track down the old-school Siouxsie badges that were ubiquitous in the late seventies / early eighties. During lockdown she scoured eBay, and they simply seemingly haven't survived into the present-day. You can't source 'em anywhere. So, for the exhibit, Webster created her facsimiles.  

Finally: needless to say, I deliberately wore a Siouxsie t-shirt to the exhibit – and then forgot to ask Sam to take a photo of me standing in front of one of the jackets!

The “Full Leather Jackets” exhibit is at Project Space, Unit 14-15 Trafalgar Mews, Hackney Wick, E9 5JG. Wednesday - Saturday 12-6 pm, 28 June - 15 July 2023.

The Next Lobotomy Room Film Club: Querelle (1982) 15 June 2023

“The idea of murder often evokes the idea of sea and seafarers ...” 

Yes! To commemorate Pride month, on 15 June 2023 the FREE monthly Lobotomy Room cinema club (our motto: Bad Movies for Bad People) presents Querelle, the great maverick German filmmaker Rainer Werner Fassbinder’s 1982 screen adaptation of Querelle of Brest, French literary bad boy Jean Genet’s notorious 1953 homoerotic novel. (It was Fassbinder’s last film. He died of a drug overdose aged just 37 before it premiered). Starring rugged Brad Davis and queen of European art cinema Jeanne Moreau, Querelle is a fascinating, hallucinatory experiment, a noble failure, a powerful study of decadence and a feverish (wet) dream of a movie! And considering queer underground filmmaker Kenneth Anger recently died aged 96, we’ll be throwing in a tribute to him on the night, too! Your attendance is compulsory, Mary! 

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 cocktail lounge in Dalston! 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 on time, please arrive by 8:15 pm at the latest. Full putrid details here. 

/ Come appreciate Brad Davis' chest pelt on 15 June! /

Further reading

Reflections on ... Born to Be Wild (2023) by Ann-Margret

 

/ Portrait of Ann-Margret by Chantal Anderson for The New York Times, March 2023 /

82-year-old veteran sex kitten Ann-Margret dropped Born to Be Wild, her first new album in over a decade, last month (her previous one - God is Love: The Gospel Sessions 2 – came out in 2011). My notes! 

This is being referred to as Ann-Margret’s “first classic-rock album”, but her early sixties RCA recordings brim with delights like the girl group-style “I Just Don’t Understand”, her sultry cover of Elvis’ “Heartbreak Hotel” and her interpretations of R&B songs like “Roll with Me, Henry” and “Jim Dandy”. Ann-Margret has always rocked!   

On the wailing title track (a cover of the 1968 Steppenwolf song), A-M is backed by The Fuzztones – and it’s genuinely ferocious! (This isn’t her first foray into garage punk: “It’s a Nice World to Visit (But Not to Live In)” - her 1969 collaboration with Lee Hazlewood - still slaps hard). 

The musical backing is grittier, brasher and more rockabilly than you might expect. (On “Volare” A-M is accompanied by Lee Rocker and Slim Jim Phantom of The Stray Cats). “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” belongs on every festive Spotify playlist! Her efforts at doo wop (“Earth Angel” and “Why Do Fools Fall in Love?”) and “Son of a Preacher Man” are credible. (The latter won’t make you forget Dusty, but it compares favorably with Bobbie Gentry and Nancy Sinatra’s versions). 

Best of all: “Somebody's in My Orchard” is slinky cocktail jazz loungecore with “blue” lyrics (“Somebody digs my fig trees / Someone loves their juice / That someone with that sweet juice / Ain't nothing but bad news ….”). 

/ Portrait of Ann-Margret by Chantal Anderson for The New York Times, March 2023 /

Less happily: duets with Pat Boone and Cliff Richard represent bad kitsch rather than fun kitsch. There’s frequently a whiff of Branson, Missouri and karaoke. Can’t help but wish A-M would find hipper collaborators and material. Not a fan of his but consider how Jack White produced late-period Loretta Lynn and Wanda Jackson albums. Not that A-M ever worried about “credibility” – her priority is to entertain. 

Finally: with the recent deaths of her contemporaries like Stella Stevens and Raquel Welch, the time to love and appreciate Ann-Margret is now! Next, we need comeback albums from Joey Heatherton and Connie Stevens!

Further reading: 

I reminisce about seeing Ann-Margret's ultra-camp Las Vegas revue in 2005.

Ann-Margret's cookie recipe.

 

Reflections on ... Little Richard: King and Queen of Rock ’n’ Roll (2023)

Just before the new documentary Little Richard: I Am Everything hit UK cinemas, the BBC swooped in with its own feature length effort, Little Richard: King and Queen of Rock ’n’ Roll by James House. (Apparently many of the same talking heads appear in both. Nile Rodgers reportedly recycles the same anecdotes!). The film is streaming on iPlayer now. I watched it last weekend. My thoughts! 

With hideous inevitability, Keith Richards and Ringo Starr are featured, so we get too much emphasis on how the Beatles and the Stones couldn't have existed without Richard. Then Rodgers recalls how when they recorded the awful Let's Dance album together, David Bowie declared he wanted to “sound like Little Richard looked”. I always cringe when boomer cultural gatekeepers imply a Black artist’s greatest contribution is “inspiring” white musicians. (See also: “Tina Turner taught Mick Jagger how to dance!”). 

More happily, one of the more eloquent and knowledgeable talking heads is New Orleans’ fierce Big Freedia - truly a flamboyant androgynous Black performer in Richard's lineage. Then there’s the regal and fascinating pioneering transgender showgirl / comedian Sir Lady Java, who acknowledges an awkward fact: it’s correct and understandable that Richard is being embraced as a queer icon, but as far as we know the great love of his life was a woman - the spectacular stripper Angel Lee, who resembled an escapee from a Russ Meyer movie!   

Prepare to be enraged that Specialty (Richard’s record label) withheld royalties, and that the ultra-square Pat Boone’s white bread cover versions vastly outsold Richard’s originals. (Boone appears and I don’t know whether to admire his guts or marvel at his lack of self-awareness!). At the 1988 Grammy Awards, while presenting Best Newcomer with Buster Poindexter, Richard went gloriously rogue. “And the winner is … me! The winner is – still me!” Then he accurately points out, “Y’all ain’t never given me no Grammy, and I’ve been singing for years!” He plays it mock aggrieved, and the audience laughs, but behind the scenes, a friend reveals this lack of acclaim caused Richard genuine tears. I will never stop being fascinated by this man. 

Further reading: my reflections on Little Richard's obituaries in 2020. 

The Next Lobotomy Room Film Club: The Flame of the Islands (1956) on 18 May 2023

 

Let’s face it: spring 2023 has been a grey, dismal bust so far! To remedy that, this month’s Lobotomy Room cinema club whisks you away to torrid tropical climes with a presentation of Flame of the Islands (1956) - the irresistible acme of juicy, pulpy and garish fifties b-movie melodramas via poverty row studio Republic Pictures, shot on location in the Bahamas, filmed in scorching Trucolour and starring tough, sensual and glamorous atomic-era brunette sex goddess Yvonne De Carlo! Yes – that Yvonne De Carlo, television’s Lily Munster, in what I’d argue is her best screen role (and, yes, I am including her performance as Moses’ wife in Biblical epic The Ten Commandments (1956)). 

Flame shares the same premise as many another fun campy film: a brassy good-time girl (usually some variation of “nightclub singer”) rocks-up in some exotic locale and her mere presence - and disruptive sexuality - can’t help but wreak havoc. Think of Marlene Dietrich in Seven Sinners (1940), Rita Hayworth in Miss Sadie Thompson (1953) or Jane Russell vehicles like His Kind of Woman (1951), Macao (1952) or The Revolt of Mamie Stover (1956). De Carlo gets to sing (she has two kitschy calypso musical numbers, one of which is entitled “Bahama Mama”), conceal a painful secret, fight-off unwanted romantic overtures from multiple men and pursue the man she really loves, complete with spectacular wardrobe changes (including a fluffy angora sweater that Ed Wood Jr himself would covet). So, won’t you join us for “the hottest thing in the tropics” on Thursday 18 May? 

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 on time, please arrive by 8:15 pm at the latest. For more info, see the Facebook event page. 

/ Seriously, you will want to see Zachary Scott wearing this outfit! /

Reflections on ... David Hurles of Old Reliable (12 September 1944 – 12 April 2023)

“David Hurles, the photographer and filmmaker whose models were plucked from the obscurity of the seedy streets and onto rolls of film shot for his small company Old Reliable, has died today, April 12. Hurles’ longtime friend, author and editor Dian Hanson announced his passing to The Bob Mizer Foundation this afternoon. Hurles acted as the sole employee of Old Reliable, a pornographic media company that he founded in the 1970s in San Francisco. Prior to its founding, Hurles shot his first professional model in 1968. As a photographer, Hurles focused his lens on the unsavory dregs of society – notably, tattooed, shaggy-haired, and sneering drug addicts and convicts – a far cry from the cleaner-cut models who had appeared throughout the magazine pages and film loops until that time ...” 

/ From the latest Bob Mizer Foundation e-newsletter dated 14 April 2023 / 

“Danger is a turn-on for Mr. Hurles. Marines aren’t butch enough or scary enough. No, David likes psychos. Nude ones. Money-hungry drug addicts with big dicks. Rage-filled robbers without rubbers. And of course convicts – his ultimate Prince Charmings. In the last three decades David Hurles has picked up rough trade off the streets of California, out in front of Doggie Diner and Flagg Brothers shoes in San Francisco and the Oki-Dog in Hollywood. Bars like the Old Crow and the Spotlight were his own personal Schwab’s Pharmacy. Only David wasn’t looking for an unknown Lana Turner in a tight sweater to turn into a star; he was looking for handsome criminals … Hurles took these outlaw studs, who may have never even realized they could be sexy, to his home like a fool-saint, paid them money and photographed them for your sick, self-loathing enjoyment. Old Reliable models snarled at the camera nude. They gave you the finger, bent over with their assholes showing, looking through their legs. And in what became Mr. Hurles’ signature photo pose, they smoked a big steaming cigar, nude, with an angry leer … All glaring into the camera looking like they wanted to rough you up … Without these pioneering Old Reliable photographs, homoeroticism in the art world couldn’t have existed. Robert Mapplethorpe was a pussy. Mr. Hurles is the real thing.” 

/ From the book Role Models (2010) by John Waters / 

Adieu to maverick “outsider pornographer” David Hurles (12 September 1944 – 12 April 2023). The gentle-faced model above is not typical of Hurles’ oeuvre, but it’s the only image I could find safe for social media! To really explore Hurles' work, this lovingly maintained blog is an essential starting point.