<![CDATA[Gawker: defamer, pt anderson]]> http://tags.gawker.com/assets/base/img/thumbs140x140/gawker.com.png <![CDATA[Gawker: defamer, pt anderson]]> http://gawker.com/tag/defamer/ptanderson http://gawker.com/tag/defamer/ptanderson <![CDATA[New P.T. Anderson Play Shatters Snoopy-Humping Taboo]]> The Paul Thomas Anderson Stage Revue we'd mentioned a while back was finally unveiled last night at Largo, where Fred Armisen and Maya Rudolph reportedly performed a succession of new sketches with Jon Brion's musical accompaniment. And according to one eyewitness who espied Jack Black and Paul Dano among his fellow attendees, the show was a little less There Will Be Blood than Punch-Drunk Love, with liberal, Altmanesque doses of I Really Don't Feel Like Writing Another Feature-Length Screenplay Right Now tossed in for good measure:

After the audience stood up for a Spanish version of "God Bless America," the actors sat down and got right into it. First up we met a couple whose love for alcohol is at the center of their connection, then a couple getting to know each other over a complicated personality test (Armisen: "Do you often have emotional outbursts without thinking them through?" Rudolph: "What kind of fucking question is that?"), then a third couple on their first date as they discuss stuffed animals (Rudolph: "When I was little, I used to put Snoopy between my legs and just hump him so hard. I humped him and humped him until his nose broke off.").

Sorry — spoiler alert? The (re)viewer notes that the vignettes comprised roughly 15 couples in all, with little more connective tissue than its author's irreverence and the SNL veterans channeling it. It can't be any worse than Baby Mama. Find out for yourself if you're feeling adventurous and can manage to mug a ticketholder; even Craigslist has nothing doing for tonight's second and final show.

]]>
http://gawker.com/index.php?op=postcommentfeed&postId=5034021&view=rss&microfeed=true
<![CDATA[Can We Just Put The 'There Will Be Blood' Homoeroticism Issue On The Table Already?]]> [Warning: Some spoilers ahead.] There's been an ongoing There Will Be Blood debate over here at Defamer HQ, with one faction having emerged from the P.T. Anderson masterpiece convinced what we had just witnessed wasn't just a searing allegory encapsulating the epochal struggle between American capitalism and religion, but also some very kinky oil-prospector-daddy on boy-of-the-cloth goings-on. (OK, fine. That faction was us.)

The other faction didn't see the film's homoerotic undertones as quite so glaring, even after we patiently sat them down to inquire whether they found nothing the least bit fishy about an oil man who over a period of decades demonstrates virtually no interest in the opposite sex. Instead, the man chooses to spend his life surrounded by other men, with one in particular—the only thing really standing between him and a satisfying gusher—becoming the obsessive object of his domineering tendencies. Along the way, the young preacher is subjected to gleeful, orally fixated taunts about milkshake-slurping, among other verbal and physical humiliations, all of which he submits to with a surprising, almost capitulatory ease.

Then there's the matter of the photo above: Gotta keep things fresh!

We rest our case.

]]>
http://gawker.com/index.php?op=postcommentfeed&postId=352539&view=rss&microfeed=true