Members Club

 If someone, somewhere has been searching for a horror comedy about middle-aged male strippers encountering an ancient witch, this one's for you. The ahem members of the troupe, Wet Dreams, are booked in for a gig in Essex at a strangely deserted working men's club. Then something stirs.....

The set-up is fine, a sub-plot about stripper Alan's attempts to reconnect with his estranged daughter Daisy emerging as all hell breaks loose. There are some laughs and a bit of gore. It's all good fun. Oh, and Peter Andre turns up in a ludicrous wig for no discernible reason. 

The gender politics are harder to determine. Is this meant to be a reversal of the age-old premise of hot young strippers being imperiled? Most of Wet Dreams have seen better days and the lads spend most of the film clad only in tiny glittery shorts. Then there are the witches, in multiple. Is witchcraft inherently bad? Not clear. There is quite an ugly scene toward the end that rather ruined the viewing experience, as Alan suddenly steps up to take action, urged on by his mate Deano. 

Ah, yes, Deano. So, Deano has an interesting anatomical feature only revealed right toward the end. Is this meant to be a joke? Is the whole film a health film in disguise? Not clear. A bit of a dampener, one might say. 

"It's cock-a-clock!" one character announces. If that appeals, this is your film. 

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Studio One Forever

 This documentary almost feels like it should have an exclamation mark at the end of the title. As West Hollywood councillor John Duran stands on stage, he bellows the words to his audience of former revellers and the attendant unseen angels. More on that later. 

There is no exclamation mark but the entertaining film revisits a lost gay club popular in the 1980s with plenty of archive footage and remembrances from staff and visitors. There is quite a large quotient of name-dropping, as well as everyone from Elton to Cary to Sylvester was there. Chita Rivera (RIP) is interviewed about launching her cabaret at the club's back room and admitting how daunting it was crossing the dance floor to get to her show. 

All of this great but so what? Lots of clubs existed in the 1980s. What made this one special? The hook is that the now-shuttered club is about to be demolished in 2018 as a big bad developer has taken over the property. Duran and his pals are keen to stop the demolition, and they put on a reunion to raise the club's profile. It takes until the 70th minute for anyone to mention AIDS and then it turns into a memorial as Duran speaks of all the lost angels looking down on them. This is moving but many people who were mentioned earlier are never given their due. What happened to them?

The editing is bizarre, skipping from a declaration that the club owner ran a racist admission policy to talking about Can't Stop the Music and then on to the DJ playlist. Visits to a local archive are interesting and there is a brief glimpse of some lost and now found photo negatives. But it's a bit of a mishmash. 

If this gives a new generation an idea of how club life functioned in WeHo pre-AIDS, then all to the good. I do wish there had been a bit more reflection on Studio One's cultural context. Spoiler: the party ended very, very badly. 

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Portraits of Dangerous Women

 This British indie film is a real burst of fresh air, quirky, inventive and surprisingly moving. Pascal Bergamin is not a name with whom I am familiar, but the writer-director has crafted a delightful film, peopled by a brilliant cast, among them the luminous Tara Fitzgerald, Yasmin Monet Prince, Mark Lewis Jones and Jeany Spark, abetted by small cameos from Sheila Reid and Joseph Marcell. 

These characters navigate around each other in an unnamed small British town with outstanding scenery. Everyone seems to live in a period cottage while Lewis Jones' character operates a small art gallery. Who are these people? How do they fit together? The film takes its time establishing links but I found it refreshing it was neither broad comedy, trite romance, nor heavy drama. 

The titular portraits are small found photographs of women in unusual poses, from shooting to climbing. They are gathered by Ashley (Monet Prince) who is trying to establish herself in the art world and strikes up an alliance with John (Lewis Jones). Meanwhile Tina (Fitzgerald) and Steph (Spark) work in the same school, but in very different contexts. Steph is a teacher while husky-voiced Tina spends her days in a boiler suit skulking around toilets and testing chairs, as she is the school caretaker. 

Watching Fitzgerald at work is fascinating, her way of inhabiting this moody, flinty character suggesting hidden depths. It's a marvellous performance and anchors the film, even if Spark and Lewis Jones have more showy parts. 

Broken relationships, a dead dog, many unexplained financial issues. These all figure in this film but really it's a clever ensemble piece featuring flawed human beings attempting to find their ways through. A triumph. 

Trailer