I have to admit that I'm not a huge fan of musicals. Actually, I think they kind of suck. (I'm clearly not the swishy kind of queer boy, am I?) While I was trying to get caught up on some work around my house, I stumbled upon the musical movie version of Sweet Charity. The only reason why I even bothered to watch it was because I *heart* Shirley MacLaine, especially in the films of the 1960s. The Apartment is one of my all time favorite films. I even dated a woman that I subconsciously thought looked like her back in the early days. Funny. (Now Irma La Douce is on. Hubba Hubba.)
Back to Sweet Charity. Have you seen this flick? 'Hooker with a heart of gold' theme. We've all seen it played out a million times, right? I stepped in around the middle of the plot, where she seemingly wooed an uptight young man who soon announced his love for her – how he couldn't live without her, how she "cured" him of his fears and inspired him to live as he always dreamed he could. I kind of tuned out whenever some song or dance number would kick in... Well, except for the marching band scene, where young Shirley is dressed like a drum majorette, and does this amazing dance with her shoulders, circa Janet Jackson's "Control" video a la the late 80s. I fell in love all over again. (With Shirley, not Janet. No offense to her...)
Ms. MacLaine ran around the city crooning something to the effect of: "I found a boy who loves me." (Or something like that.) The clincher is – will she be able to tell him about her past? And if and when she does, how will he react? Ya, I can relate to that kind of tension. You think you really like someone and you get overtaken by the enthusiasm, the zeal. But there is a subtle undercurrent of worry, as you begin to hope that the euphoric tides won't change when your truth comes bubbling up to the surface.
Yep.
Irma La Douce is slightly different. Yes, it was the 'hooker with a heart of gold' theme again, but she was the -love interest- of the protagonist, not the main character herself. In this gem, it was Jack Lemmon's character that drove the plot twists. Of course, the humble everyman that he plays so well. And of course, I can relate to that guy. The dope who seems to have the worst luck, but always comes out alright in the end.
There is a scene in this film where Irma invites "Lester" (played by Jack) up to her apartment to spend the night with her after he beat up her pimp for mistreating Irma. He sheepishly turned away as she began to undress, and even covered her windows with newspaper to prevent others from sneaking a peek. His shyness got in the way, as he uncomfortably took respite in a wooden chair stationed next to the bed where Irma was reclining. Ya, I'm totally that guy. That scene felt so familiar, like it was plucked from my very own life. Laughing at myself for being such a sappy fool.
Last year, a friend of mine that I had known for years came to visit for an event. A bunch of us hung out into the wee hours of the night, and rather than have my friend drive out 45 minutes to her family's place, I offered that she could crash with me at a huge, gorgeous house where I was watching some pets for a long weekend. I spoke up, explaining that I'd be staying in a different room to give her some privacy, and then showed this gal her diggs. She coyly said not to be silly, that I could stay with her in the guest bedroom. Like that idiot "Lester," I let my shyness get in the way.
She and I stayed up for hours, chatting away nervously (at least on my end) chastely snuggling next to one another. In retrospect, I think she was flirting up a storm, but I was so afraid to overstep any boundaries that I deflected what may have been advances on her part. By the time I finally summoned the gumption to make a move, she had just fallen asleep. It felt like a debilitating sign that it wasn't meant to be – that I would forever miss the opportunity to get to know her better.
I wish I could say that I learned my lesson that night, but maybe once a shy dope, always a shy dope. I think there is a fine line between trying to be a gentleman, and just plain being an idiot. Flip a coin. If this was some Shirley MacLaine / Jack Lemmon feature, all of the calamity would erupt into some comical, yet syrupy happy ending. (No pun intended with all of the talk about hookers...)
God, I wish Billy Wilder could be the director of my life... Maybe then I could have a chance.
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