I had been seduced into reading this book after opening it at random to a passage about nudity on Broadway—a subject well-known to Out’s cover subject this month, the neoburlesque choreographer Jerry Mitchell, who is a mastermind behind two upcoming megamusicals.
In the first entry for 1950 Isherwood tells a story about the actor Jack Fontan, known to gay audiences flocking to see him at the time in South Pacific as “The Naked Sailor.” Fontan had earned the designation thanks to the musical’s “There Is Nothin’ Like a Dame” number, during which he wore nothin’ but “a pair of the shortest shorts, without underwear”—giving, when he sprawled, glimpses of his impressive genitalia. The shorts were the idea of South Pacific’s director, Joshua Logan.
When the show opened, this physical display had shocked some of the front-row matrons. As Isherwood has it, “Jack was to put on Jockeys. When Logan heard of this he was very angry. The Jockeys were prohibited. Logan’s instructions to the box office were: ‘If they don’t want to see his balls, they can have their money returned.’ ”
Although nudity also figures in another story in this issue, about a new photo book by Greg Gorman, it is not the only subject treated here. There is that other gay perennial: relationships. Bob Smith provides a hilarious account of “SpeedDating”—a method to find Mr. Right in seven minutes. Our anonymous list maker (anonymous not because he’s not out but because he values his perceived social standing) reveals where rich gays meet cute gays—or, in the parlance of that newly crowned sitcom queen Bette Midler, “where the elite meet meat.” And if you want to know what to wear this month on your first speedily arranged date, check out Matt Albiani’s beautiful fashion photos from Montauk.
A matter less ephemeral than dating (i.e. love) is explored in this issue by Donna Allegra in her short story “Navigating by Stars.” In its approach, the lesbian affair rendered by Allegra reminds me of another Isherwood entry, about the difference between books and films. “Writing,” he argues, “is impressionistic, subjective, conceptual.” In mentioning these qualities, he contrasts writing with moviemaking—which better captures “dialogue, gestures, and physical appearance.”
That last attribute, Isherwood implies, explains why it is more difficult to go on being a screen star than a literary star: The camera is not usually in the writer’s study, exposing how time has ravaged one’s figure or—whatever encouraging noises Isherwood makes to the contrary—one’s desirability. In other words, the nice thing about writing is that you can look your best on paper when you no longer do in life.
Brendan Lemon Editor in Chief
