Some years ago, because I was bored and there was nothing else in the video store, I rented “Showgirls.” (My God, I just realized Roger Ebert gave it two stars. TWO stars. Must have gotten all those twinned aereolae on his brain, poor boy.)
Anyway, I rented “Showgirls.” Never have I been so regretful that it was just Alan and me in the room that night. Not that Alan isn’t fun to bounce wisecracks off of, but that’s a movie that requires a houseful of company, well-seeded with the wisecrackiest gay men you know. My friend Ron, with whom I once had a series of bad-movie dates, would have peed his pants over it. At every turn in the story, when the question is: Low road? Or lower road? “Showgirls” just takes a flat-out dive for the one below that, and it is just a hoot. When Elizabeth Berkley licks the pole! Ahhhhhh!
Now Jon Carroll has finally gotten around to seeing it, and I’m pleased to say he adds significantly to the “Showgirls” canon. Describing a …well, I guess you’d call it a “love” scene:
Kyle has this very large house out in the desert, and behind the very large house is a very large swimming pool, and after a night of flirtation, Kyle and Elizabeth find themselves making the showgirl with two backs in the shallow end.
Elizabeth is facing the stars with her head in the little trough where the excess water is collected. She is really, truly in ecstasy this time and not just pretending, and so she rolls her head back and forth, back and forth, faster and faster, looking something like a berserk piece of industrial machinery and something like a horse dying.
And this goes on. And on. And on. It goes on beyond all reason; you could go get popcorn at the beginning of the scene and still get back in time for the final 45 thrashes.
So who wants to have a “Showgirls” party? Invite me!