[Originally posted July 9, 2006 on MySpace]
Last night, Jason and I held a "Just Plain Wrong" Viewing Party (it's a semi-regular thing with us). The evening's selections were Valley of the Dolls and Beyond the Valley of the Dolls; I was the only one in our party of 11 who had seen both.
The thing is, I'd seen them so many times that I'd become a kind of scholar of both films.* The profound weirdness of Beyond the Valley of the Dolls no longer phases me in the slightest. If anything, I love its lunatic cinematography, sex-drugs-murder-and-bad-music plot and almost dada-ist dialogue. But I had forgotten how alien it is upon first viewing.
So after the film ended, I looked upon our guests, who had all fallen silent. It wasn't one of those contemplative "what an interesting film; let me take a moment to compose my thoughts" silences, though. It was the stunned silence of "What the fuck was that?!"
Which kinda cracked me up. It was my happening, and it freaked them out.
* My review of both DVDs for HoleCity.
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