Colour Me Something
Is it homophobic or self loathing to simultaneously laugh and wince at a hideous queen getting away with just shy of murder while sucking up pints of vodka? That was the queasy feeling I got about 2/3rds of the way through Colour me Kubrick this evening. I really didn't get a chance to discuss it in any detail with my non-date (okay a fig). It was at the 2/3rds point that the various tricks and over-acting seemed to come crashing back, though it almost redeemed itself in the final minutes with Ken Russell impersonating a man deluded into thinking he was Ken Russell throwing Jello in the air. And then there was just the thrill of cameos by Honor Blackman and Marissa Berenson. I'll sleep on it, but I think I will have long forgotten the film by the morning. It was just like a bottle of cheap champagne that is frothy, sweet and forgotten even before your head hits the pillow.