wildcat

You know, I think two scenes in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes really steal the show for me; the two renditions of "Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend." Marilyn Monroe's version, the classic and memorable version that was riffed on for things like "Material Girl?" I'd forgotten about the weird living sculptures of women in tight black with their hair up in black bandanas, tied together to form statuary and even weirder - suspended from the ceiling as living chandoliers.

The other version is Jane Russell's rendition: done up in Marilyn drag in a French courtroom, wearing a heavy fur coat over a floozie's night club costume, all bangles and silverware. She reduces Marilyn's character to the absurd and then obliterates the earlier rendition's little blonde girl vibe in favour of Russell's hot sex madness. I completely love this version and it totally reflects why I like Dorothy Shaw - Russell's character - better than Monroe's Lorelei. She's all about the sex, and all about the variety and heat. She likes muscles and hot men. Her version of the song is raw and gyrates wildly between an outright drag show and the Maria-Robot's erotic dance in Metropolis. Her dress is similar if not exactly the same as the one Nicole Kidman wears during the first version of the song in Moulin Rouge.

Dorothy's completely in control of every situation and moreover, is never presented in a negative fashion - she is no slut, no whore, either from inside or outside. She just wants to have fun, and up until the narrative smacks her down, she isn't in it for the LOVE, per se. In fact, the only real judgements levelled against her are from Marilyn/Lorelei - because Dorothy would and will get it on with a poor man if he's pretty. Lorelei is attracted to money and comfort, and her pragmatism is delightful in its own way simply because she's completely up front about it and only plays the little girl with no brains when she can get something out of it. Anyway, my point is that Dorothy pretty much lampoons Lorelei to remind us that Lorelei is all an act; Dorothy's been nothing but one hundred percent genuine. Especially when she's watching hot, Olympic athletes practice in the gym with little flesh-coloured trunks on.

Inspired to write another story about Lenore, that little dinky-toy town in the middle of the desert. The first one was a riff on science fiction, the second one was a riff on Bonnie and Clyde movies, and I think this third one will be a riff on Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. I have a couple ideas for it, at least as far as the basic conceit goes, but I need to flesh things out more and actually start writing it.

Wrote something for the postcards blog. Check it out. I'd like to get it going again, if for no other reason than to inspire me wild flights and get my fingers clacking. Maybe other people will post to it as well.