NY Mirror

That new Broadway thriller called The Blair Bitch Project—I mean Voices in the Dark—has been savaged by critics in need of a soyburger, but it's actually a moderately capable joltfest, mainly hampered by pop-schlock psychology and the Act II scene in which poor Judith Ivey has to fill a new character in on every single thing that happened in Act I. The elaborate lodge set, scarily reminiscent of the one for Moose Murders, is filled with disarmingly strange characters and their body parts, though ultimately there are too manypsychos trying our nerves—almost as many as in that Gap "Dress You Up" commercial.

My last Monistat-ed nerve was tickled by publicists who invited me to a party for a lesbian-themed film and specified, "The stars are both straight!" Hey, thanks for the info. I'm sure the reverse situation would happen: "Mikey, we're having a bash tonight for a romance starring David Hyde Pierce and Jodie Foster—and they're both gay!"

Instead of either scenario, I went straight, as it were, to the menopausal anniversary screening of the still priceless Young Frankenstein, and asked Mel Brooks if the current crop of gross-out-comedy filmmakers owe him a big debt of gratitude. "You mean that I plumbed the depths?" he said. "Yes! I've cut my way through the jungle of vulgarity and paved the way for South Park and American Pie!" And he should be proud—no, really.

Yikes, gotta go. I'm having a "private summer." mailto:musto@villagevoice.com