Sadly Over-hyped

Great Film overall

Admirable film.

True to its essence, the characters remain on the same line and manage to entertain the viewer, each highlighting their own distinctive qualities or touches.

Leather chaps, stetsons and tassled jackets never did it for me, so I have always been avoiding western bars, western movies and western clothes. Too alien, too rural, too American. Every time I have been to America - only twice for more than one night's stay - it has been a disappointing and depressing experience: I've encountered far more snobbery and contempt for the way I looked, dressed or talked in the USA than at any time in so-called class-ridden, uptight and elitist Britain. And this was not in some forsaken prairie in Wyoming, but in "urbane bohemian" lower Manhattan and "the centre of the gay universe", the Castro. Wearing cameo gear and sporting a shaved head was not de rigueur there during the late 1980s - too subcultural, too fetishistic, whatever, it fitted in badly in those rigid beige compartments: the clone look, the western look, the preppy look. Unlike nowadays of course, when even women are starting to complain their men look gay: a Marine haircut, square-jawed and blockheaded. But despite all this invasion of gay looks, styles and sense (more queer eye - the Ivorean, Tongan or Uzbek editions, anyone?) into the cultural mainstream, radical gender or sex politics, as in wrestling with icons and meaning, is out, and "culture wars" and marriage aspirations are in.Liberating male iconography from its perceived sexual orientation - as in all cowboys, soldiers, oil men and sports stars are straight and you mess with that at your own risk - has been Mark Simpson's major theme in his columns, books and commentary. So when he reviewed the latest Hollywood attempt to convince middle America there is a love that dares not speak its name on the prairie, I had to sit up and take notice. I don't think I will rush to my local cinema to watch Brokeback Mountain any time soon.I think I will stick with that absolutely wonderfully funny Andy Warhol movie Lonesome Cowboys instead: after watching that one in my youth I have to admit I tried a tassled jacket on for size.

...but I rate it as such because I saw this movie as it should be seen, in a suburban "art house" cinema in the Sacramento suburbs in 1969. An interesting audience; some older men wearing overcoats and a few "sophisticated" couples from the local colleges. And me. I was not exactly sophisticated myself at the time (being only 19), but I laughed out loud a lot, while the rest of the spare audience stared at their shoes. I enjoyed the audience even more than I enjoyed the movie. And I enjoyed the movie a lot.P.S. Taylor Mead should be made a saint. I would like to see him made a saint not only because he deserves it but also because he might then cancel the insane 10 line rule here. There are movies that don't require 10 lines of commentary, this being one of them.

This movie is great. Joe Dallesandro is young and full-on hot and sexy. The dialogue is pure camp. The performances are funny, goofy, and stupid. Totally crazy bordering on dumb scenes. Similar in style and feel to a pre-Pink Flamingo John Waters low budget film. At times you'll wonder how in the hell they ever got it made, or why they bothered to spend time on the project. Ultimately, you appreciate the time piece that it represents. These artists and the works they produced were the "burning bush" to that era's counter-culture Moses. Irreverent and living out of bounds.

I thought it was pretty funny, a little dirty, but funny. Taylor Mead's so giddy and girlish, he really makes the movie worth watching. Joe Dallesandro has a small role, but does a hilarious dance scene with Mead! The songs are good too! Who knew Eric Emerson could sing?