I did need

this escape. That’s all this film offers, though it’s a trifle long. The Bells Are Ringing stars Judy Holiday; a story in herself. I don’t like slapstick, but I like Lucille Ball and Judy Holiday who were both geniuses. Let’s make one thing clear: I know something about comedy, it’s probably the only subject I can claim to be an expert on. You either have it or you don’t. Sorry, all you unfortunate graduates of Le Coq. (I had to deal with many actors who went to that Parisian clown school when I was a young theatre director.) The fact is that you’re either naturally funny or not. I am funny. I know I’m funny because people laugh at me even when I’m serious. I’m probably funny because I take everything so seriously. Want proof? Here — I’ll brag. The only real acting gig I ever had was in Montreal, many years ago, I starred in a play (for a month run) called The Food Chain at The Saidye Bronfman (now Segal Centre). I played a 400 pound gay man and the whole second act was mine, I had to chase a cute boy around a bed while furiously eating a bag full of bagels and donuts. In the reviews I was compared to Charlie Chaplin. But I know I was funny, because the old Jewish ladies laughed and then apologised afterwards when they came to my dressing room —it was seeing me without my fat suit — “We would have laughed more but we thought you were really fat and we didn’t want to be rude.” I had a fight with the director; he kept adding foodstuffs. It was very difficult to really eat and act simultaneously. Which brings us to Judy Holiday, gorgeous, a closeted lesbian, the voice of a little boy, investigated for communism, died of throat cancer. What a doll she was. At one point in The Bells Are Ringing it is necessary for her to suddenly disappear behind a couch -- which she does with hilarious aplomb, she just drops to the floor — her expression saying, quite unconvincingly ‘I’m not doing this.’ Later Dean Martin blithely remarks: “You’re crazy.’ She answers very earnestly ‘I know,’ with such profound belief that you know that for her, this is a shocking admission.  Judy Holiday is always real; it’s no accident that she was working on a one woman show about Laurette Taylor when she died (Taylor brought naturalism to the American stage). I have worked with several actresses who, like Judy Holiday can make anything funny; it doesn’t really matter what the gag is, they redeem it. (If the gag is not funny they are funny about  trying to be funny) Thank God for these women. And yes, I do need the escape that Vincente Minnelli offers us in this film; it’s now clear to me why God put homosexuals on this earth — to create diversions of this nature. This is the kind of old fashioned musical where Judy Holiday and Dean Martin are dancing in a park then suddenly find a chorus of people watching them — who, in turn, begin singing along with them. Don’t you understand why we fags love this stuff? If magic like this can happen— well, ergo, therefore — men can love men!  I’m sitting in a cafe on St. Catherine St. in Montreal,watching the meth addicts walk by (they are usually hurrying actually). You can tell they are meth addicts by their mouths -- very strange and scary. They too, are longing for escape. But what Minnelli offers harms us in only one way --  it damages our ability to deal with reality. But if you’re like me, you end up hiding in the alternative world you create. One moment to acknowledge Doria Avila — a famous Texan and a famous dancer. He founded the Doria Avila Dance Academy, as well as the Rio Grande Valley Ballet. He appears for only a few moments in The Bells Are Ringing-- at first I thought —oh Judy Holiday has a cute gay neighbour, undoubtedly someone who Minnelli was screwing (who knows?). In this movie Doria is about 30 years old, and gorgeous, he does a little impromptu cha cha with Holiday. He died in 2005 at age 78 at the hands of his 27 year nemesis (Richard Redmond Jr.). One doesn’t know quite what to say; I wouldn’t call it an admirable death, but I would call it a very gay death.  It’s good to know that Doria — who was chosen as one of Living Legends of Dance by the Governor of Texas in 1992 -- still had some life left him at 78 — even if it was extinguished by a young man who was undoubtedly his lover, or perhaps just some young man he worshipped at the alter of. Wikipedia censorship is really pissing me off. There are three gay stories (at least) connected with the cast of this film. Judy Holiday had a fake marriage to a man, so of course you’ll find that on Wikipedia, but nothing about the female cop she was dating at the time. It’s history, our history and no one cares. The most eloquent symbol of our erasure is that the best way to tell if a famous person is gay or not is go directly to their Wikipedia page. Look under personal. The first thing you’ll see is that their bio is very short (not so for heterosexuals). You will discover, amazingly that they were born, and had parents (interesting details, of course, who would have guessed?) and that they lived somewhere, and that they had a parrot or a cat. Oh yes, and that they died. (Perhaps at the hands of beautiful young hooker, but he will not be called that, of course!) If I sound bitter today it’s because I am; completely lost and sad. Frankly, as nice as it is to go to a Montreal pool and have outdoor patios, you still can’t get a coffee inside a Startbucks for some strange reason. It’s not been easy having our lives destroyed; I’m sure you share the feeling but you dare not express it. I’ll tell you why. You are surrounded by people who the pandemic has made quite happy They were miserable before COVID-19; the pandemic has given them a marvelous excuse for not living. They are no longer to be blamed for their misery, the fault is not in themselves, but in their stars. Here’s a lesson. Learn it. Now! Everything is your fault. You are responsible. The stars — well, they will burn brightly — or not — in any case.