So say there was this movie. And it was about a New Jersey hausfrau in the 80s. And said frau felt alienated and unfulfilled until she uncovered her theretofore latent computer genius potential, kicked her husband out of her house and shacked up with her best friend turned girlfriend in a one-two punch of queer feminist resistance. And Lili Taylor played the h-frau, and maybe...I dunno, who's someone random...Courtney Love played the g-friend. Would it be fair, hypothetically, for this film to never have a theatrical release? Or for it to be hustled onto an obscure cable channel, all back-alley drug dealish and stealthy-like, five years later in the middle of the night?
Then again, now is not a particularly logical or comforting time for the American cinema, seeing as how the studios would much rather pump all my favorite childhood library rentables full of CGI than come up with actual new stories. I'm sad. And worried. Tilda Swinton as the White Witch, okay, okay. Never gonna be as low-budget drag queen-schizoid as Barbara Kellerman, but whatevs. And Helena B-C is totes my lady. But leave Veruca Salt and Mr. Tumnus the fuck alone.
(P.S. Is Todd Haynes' Poison an unflinching triptych meditation on deviance and masculinity? Yes. Am I grateful someone made it? Yes. Am I hella freaked out and not begging to see it again? Yes.)