Lights, Camera, GAY PARTY!

[April 23rd, 2003] I hate Dennis Hensley.

Pretty and witty and gay, he's everything I'm not (except for the last thing). On top of all that, "Mr. Damn Near Perfect" has found enough time in his homo-fabu life to squeeze out not one but two books.

His latest, the semi-fictional Screening Party (Alyson Books), brings together six of his best buds to do the same thing I do every night of the week--yell at the VCR. Or, more importantly, cackle, hiss, and generally dismiss and dissect the camp celluloid classics that are part of the cinematic queer canon, including Cruising, Sound of Music and, oh yes, Glitter.

Interviewing the 38-year-old Tom Ford look-alike about his new book by phone from his SoCal apartment-cum-"screening room," I asked the Valley boy how I could be more like him, or at least throw a screaming shindig like he does.

Before enlightening me to his ways, he first wanted me to see the "real" him. "It's all smoke and mirrors," confessed Dennis. "I don't get laid and barely make a living as a writer. What's so great about that?"

Well, personally, I think growing up in Arizona, spending six years as a cruise ship chorus boy, auditioning for Madge's "Blonde Ambition" tour, writing magazine articles, and then turning it all into a book--that sounds like fun.

Dennis disagrees: "It's hard work."

Whatever.

Although Dennis may have found the secret to his success lies in his Martha-like ability to balance a remote control with just the right amount of party snacks and queer people, this scribe doesn't try to take himself as seriously as Ms. Stewart. "I didn't invent turning on the television and inviting a few friends over to watch it," he says.

Though his book zooms in on Basic Instinct-type movies, Dennis firmly believes almost any flick is worthy of his screening-party shtick, except for something like Schindler's List. As of late he's really into Coyote Ugly, because he feels few have yet discovered its kitsch appeal, à la Showgirls or Valley of the Dolls.

When I offered him my own idea of what I'd design a screening party around, he nearly gasped, "Why on earth would you want to watch On Golden Pond?"

The golden boy asks a valid question. Like the characters in Screening Party, I find that watching the Henry/Jane Fonda classic lets me relive a pretty significant part of my queer life. Sure, I loved this movie, but the only reason I paid eight times to see it was that I was in love with someone who was completely obsessed with it. Not only that, I think OGP is a great metaphor for forgiveness. I mean, if the guy who played Tom Joad can forgive Hanoi Jane her rebellious ways, and she can forgive him his crotchety spirit, then any problem I may have with my own family might not be so hard to figure out. Besides, who doesn't love the way Katharine Hepburn says "str-awwww-berries"?