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Midnight in the garden
of Eden By Johnny Ray Huston HEY, HEY , hey – BIM's on the way! You may recall BIM, the evil monolithic pop empire lorded over by that queeny devil Mr. Boogalow – after all, it essentially controlled the planet in 1994. Yes, a mere decade ago, when citizens were required to wear triangular holographic BIM marks, and riot troops forced drivers, firefighters, surgeons, and everyone else to stop what they were doing and take part in daily aerobics routines. You know, the epoch of Alphie and Bibi and their wholesome three-hanky World Vision Song Contest ballad "Love, the Universal Melody." Or, if your taste in sound is a little wilder, the era when – over a glam backbeat scientifically hooked to listener's heartbeats – Dandi and Pandi commanded music fanatics to embrace a universe where there ain't no good, bad, happiness, tears, love, or hate. Back then, when they said to "Do the BIM," people listened. After all, there was nothing but power, and BIM was the power. My child, even if you weren't around for the reign of Boogalow International Music, allow Menaham Golan's The Apple to educate you. Unleashed in 1980, Golan's disco-glam-folk, biblical-with-strong-gay-overtones musical uncannily predicted the future of 1994, a future that's now our past, even if malevolent traces of it remain. Perhaps, as with so many prophetic works, The Apple was simply ahead of its time. The year it was released, instead of rocketing to Rocky Horror-like cult status and giving that film's devoted followers the fresh shock treatment they desired, it quickly disappeared from theaters. But some fruit has a sell-by date marked "eternity," and this item only grows riper, as midnight audiences from Los Angeles to the Big Apple have since discovered. Now, at last, The Apple has reached the gay-rapture holy land of San Francisco, where Peaches Christ is showcasing it at the Bridge Theater. (It sneaked into town once last year thanks to Joel Shepard of Yerba Buena Center for the Arts, but the ceremonial zealotry and flaming faggotry of Midnight Mass make for an ideal setting.) Reached while hard at work on her entry for the upcoming S.F. Underground Film Festival, Midnight Mass's hostess looks forward to the big night. "If I can get people in seats, we'll change their religion," Christ says. "I think the movie is incredible." Christ isn't alone. Dazed and awestruck comments about The Apple are strewn like so much glitter across online film forums: "This movie resists summary – like an unexpected car crash, it leaves you with fragmented impressions." "I've been waiting for this movie all my life. Until now, my favorite film musicals were Xanadu, Voyage of the Rock Aliens and The Pirate Movie, but this one far and away exceeds them all.... My friends have stopped coming over because I keep 'subjecting' them to it." "This movie is definitely the best portrayal of 1994 by far." "I have grown to love this movie for some warped reason unknown to me." "The single greatest ending in film history." I've included these quotes because they grasp at something very particular about The Apple that's rare in contemporary movies: it inspires wonder. Wonder about how much speed – to cite the title of one frenzied showstopper – was consumed to inspire such nonstop whirlwind energy. Wonder regarding the genetically enhanced produce the film's hero seems to be smuggling in his skintight pants. Wonder as to whether Yma Sumac really contributed higher-than-high notes to the movie's songs, as the Internet Movie Database claims. But most of all, wonder as in, how did this happen? What were they thinking? It's wrong to connect a love of this movie to irony. Irony is never giddy, and The Apple is so insanely giddy that it invades your senses like a sugar seizure. Song-and-dance numbers steamroll over any narrative coherence, inducing euphoria. Incredible: Christ's one-word description fits like a glove, or at least like the trash bags, shoulder pads, and rhinestones The Apple passes off as futuristic fashion. In defying belief, this movie inspires it. "It started out as an affectionate homage to late-night movies and ended up being an affectionately embraced late-night movie," director Jim Sharman says about Rocky Horror at the beginning of J. Hoberman and Jonathan Rosenbaum's Midnight Movies, shortly before the authors round up everyone from Émile Durkheim to Parker Tyler to explain the quasi-religious evanescent delirium of their subject matter. The Apple's religious theme might be one logical reason people are crusading from out of state to attend this week's Midnight Mass. But logic and The Apple have trouble fitting within the same sentence. Nineteen eighty-four had George Orwell, 1994 had Golan, and one unsettling trivia shard suggests why The Apple remains relevant to 2004: the film's musical numbers were choreographed by Nigel Lythgoe, now an executive director of American Idol. Imagine an America hypnotized by one leader who controls a consolidated media: is it really so strange? The curious and the hopelessly devoted can find out for themselves at the Bridge – after some drag queen roller derby. "We're handing out BIM marks," Christ says, then (possessed by the spirit of Mr. Boogalow?) adds, "BIM marks will be mandatory." Be there – and wear yours proudly. The Apple will taste even better when it's paired with some Peaches. 'Midnight Mass: The Apple,' featuring drag queen roller derby, screens Sat/31, midnight, Bridge Theater, 3010 Geary, S.F. $10. (415) 751-3213. Tickets available at www.moviefone.com or by calling (415) 777-FILM. For more information go to www.peacheschrist.com. |
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