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Adapted from novels by Richard Stevenson, this is the second Donald Strachey Mystery being screened at Reeling this year (the first, Ice Blues, was screened Saturday, November 8, 2008), and it’s the fourth film in the Donald Strachey series produced by here! [sic] television.

A contemporary, gay-twisted take on classic noir, the series follows private dick Donald Strachey (played by Chad Allen) and his partner Tim getting involved in all sorts of drama while working to solve Albany’s most sorted, LGBT-involved crimes. On the whole, the series is always well-written, well-played and well-produced. The storylines are compelling and complex, but not too complex, and, at times, they’re even cute. Enjoyable, in a leisurely kind of way, they’re easy to watch. There hasn’t been a bad one yet. However, of the entire series, three things make On the Other Hand… stand out the most—Margot Kidder, Margot Kidder and Margot Kidder.

Margot Kidder! In On the Other Hand…, the early-‘80s Dame of Superman fame goes girl-on-girl. Playing the defiant half of a lesbian couple under homophobic fire, Kidder’s character is forced to choose between keeping her home or giving in to hate—if that’s really the case—before another person turns up dead. Strachey’s on the job, but Kidder kills (not literally).

Margot Kidder! Lois Lane on Lithium plus 30 years, how could she not steal the show? And evident in her On the Other Hand… performance, she’s got the makings of a great gay icon. Brassy, sassy, throaty, middle-aged and just a little bit nuts, Kidder’s clearly the kind of gal that every gay guy simply adores to death.

You can easily imagine her sitting at a bar—a gin martini in one hand and a cigarette in the other—going off about how much Teri Hatcher and Kate Bosworth sucked as Lois Lane. “Too sappy,” she’d slur, “Too superficial.” Want to know the size of Christopher Reeves’ penis? Get her drunk, she’d tell you. “Well, I don’t know first hand,” she’d explain, “but things got a little wild at Richard Pryor’s house one night, and so-and-so said…” Margot Kidder! What fun!

My only critique isn’t about this particular movie, per se, but about the series in general: For real, what kind of name is “Strachey?” Honestly? Strachey—it sounds so awkward. It’s even more awkward to say; Stray-chee. Just thinking about it annoys me, and typing it so many times is starting to piss me off. “Strachey?” What is that? Seriously?

Gay men, murder, mayhem and Margot Kidder, On the Other Hand, Death: A Donald [Weird Name] Mystery plays tonight, 9:15 p.m. at Landmark Theater.

I wasn't going to preview any of Reeling's documentaries. It just seemed a waste of time. I feel that audiences are more inclined to attend documentaries based on their personal interest in the topical subject being explored and less on whether a reviewer found the film good or not.

So, when I opted to pre-screen Ebony Chunky Love: Bitch Can't Get a Date, I didn't think it was a documentary. Featuring Sirius OutQ radio host and comedian Keith Price, I thought it was a stand up/sketch show ala Sara Silverman's Jesus is Magic, only more black and more gay. But no, it's a documentary.

However, exploring life, love and dating, racism and homophobia, all from a big, burly and ballsy African American gay man, Ebony... is amusing.

Ebony Chunky Love: Bitch Can't Get a Date, plays tonight, 7 p.m. at Film Row Cinema.

Last night found me at the Landmark Theater screenings of
The Way I See Things and Lost Everything. After three hours of movie watching, I couldn't get out of the theater fast enough. I didn't even stay for either film's Q&A.

The plot structure and reveal of The Way... was completely lost on me. However, at the time, that seemed somewhat fitting since the following film was Lost...--a well-scripted suspense thriller incorporating a nicely-done gay twist that's not without merit. Yet something in that movie was missing as well. I'm not really sure what that "something" was exactly, but waiting for it felt like forever (and it never came); Lost... was so drawn out. Although its everlasting aspect didn't actually annoy me as much as its questionable costuming: A multi-million dollar/year-making agent in cheap suits and plastic pearls? Self-respecting gay men, living in modern-day South Beach, wearing pleated pants and sleeveless button-ups? Was this film partially produced by the International Male catalog? And I swear to god I saw someone with zippers on the back pockets of their jeans. Zippers!

After the screenings, I tried to catch the tail-end of the post-Otto;Or, Up With Dead People-screening, gay-zombie party at Lakeshore Theater. Yet by the time I got there, at 10:50 p.m., Lakeshore staffers were already vacuuming the floor. Sigh.

Sunday sucked. Maybe Monday will marvel.

Tonight at Reeling, independent film producer and gay-themed screenwriter, Richard LeMay's Whirlwind makes the marquis. Simply put, it's about a group of close-knit gay friends in New York--a kind of Sex and the City-esque movie for ‘mos; the allusion to which is admittedly as uninspired as it is unoriginal, because Sex and the City is the Sex and the City-esque movie for ‘mos. Nor are any of the Whirlwind boys as well-played or as fabulous as the original SatC girls. But just roll with it for now.

In Whirlwind, five BFFs are met by a devious dude out to destroy their dynamic. Drake is a harrowing hunk of hotness that sleeps with The Samantha, physically comes between The Charlotte and Trey, plays on The Miranda's insecurities and antagonizes The Carrie whose mourning the loss of his Mr. Big. It's a gay good versus batty-boy bad scenario that ultimately ends with a fairy tale-ish finale, and it had me wondering, "Where's the whirlwind?" I was disappointed.

I was disappointed because as this film's action rose to its climax, so did my hopes for an indeterminate denouement. I found myself wishing that the antagonist would not be exposed or exiled because I wanted a realistic resolve, and the mal-intent of true-to-life "Drakes" is rarely ever revealed or recognized. The immoral agenda of most manipulative men is not simplistic or superficial, nor is it aimed at the well-rounded. Motivated by deep, twisted and compounded complexes, Drakes satisfy their need for emotional exploitation by sowing those in need of empathy and caress. Planting seeds of calculated compassion, Drakes intentionally imply intimacy without ever defining it or fulfilling it. Charismatic and enigmatic, that is what makes them so intriguing. Sustaining but never satiating, their sadism is nonetheless seductive. So much so that the successfully seduced are blinded by desire, unable to see the voluntary violation that inspires their suffering. And that is what makes Drakes so provocative. Yet, quickly discovered and just as easily disposed of, that is not how Whirlwind's Drake was depicted.

I was disappointed because I needed to relate. I needed to see "my Drake" on the silver screen. I wanted Whirlwind to explain him to me, to better understand him and to better understand myself. I wanted answers, but the fictitious conclusion only enforced a fact that I was already pretty much well aware of: There are no answers.

Whirlwind plays tonight, 9 p.m at Landmark Theater.

Reeling Director Brenda Webb was excited to feature Bruce LaBruce's Otto; Or, Up with Dead People, in this year's Reeling schedule. Apparently, this is the first time a LaBruce film has ever made it past the pre-screening process and into the Reeling program. Those familiar with LaBruce's work will probably get why.

Mixing experimental cinematography with partial pornography, LaBruce's work isn't your typical general-gay-audience kind of stuff. IE: LaBruce's 1996 film Hustler White features Madonna's ex-bf getting it in the butt and gay-amputee fetish sex.

And keeping it in kind, Otto is par for LaBruce's course, only this time the boyfriends are undead and the sex is necrotic.

The storyline, regarding the evolutionary emergence of gay zombies via the experience of one newly undead Otto who lands a role in the anti-establishment gay zombie film Up with Dead People, is a very clever one. However, it's told in a very experimetal way that may leave viewers confused at first. The scenes are so jarring, the images so unconventional and the sounds so blaring that audiences simply aren't allowed to absorb the action. Instead, they have to piece it together and figure it out for themselves.

As to whether or not it's worth watching, the jury's out on this one. While the 30 people who walked out during Otto's screening at Sundance probably hate it, my collegues, Micheal Lehet and Marc Felion, totally love it.

I'm on the fence.

**

Otto; Or, Up with Dead People plays tonight, 8 p.m. at Lakeshore Theater, and is followed by an "Eat Your Brains Gay Zombie Night"-themed party.

Other movies playing today that look interesting: Ready? OK!, OMG/HaHaHa and Lost Everything(I met the producer on Thursday, and he's kind of sexy)

Shamim Sarif makes her directorial debut with the film adaptation of her own book in The World Unseen. Gorgeous African landscapes backdrop a dynamic period piece regarding the forbidden love of two women coming together during apartheid. Both romantically and politically provocative, as well as brilliantly portrayed, everything in this movie was beautiful, and it was the only film that I couldn't finish.

Frankly, the sexual and racial minority, double jeopardy period piece has already been seen in 2004's Brother to Brother, and the Asian-Indian lesbian dynamic was already acclaimed in 1996 with the award-winning Fire. For this film to remain believable within its established context, it just couldn't end well--and being confident of this, I really had no reason to go on once the film reached its denouement. But I still reccommend watching it, if only to let me know how it ends.

Also playing tonight: Antartica, and audiences are advised to avoid it. Perhaps there's something lost in the translation, but the same-sex love triangles entagling a set of gay siblings in Tel Aviv, complicated by their meddling drag-queen mother and a possible extra-terrestial space craft landing, made no sense to me.

The World Unseen plays today, 3 p.m. at Landmark Theater.

Also reccommended, James Bolton's Dream Boy, playing 5 p.m. at Landmark. It looked great in the previews.