NY Mirror

Performance haven (and booze mecca) Jackie 60 may be gone—blame the tourists—but the club's majordomos are documenting its reign by editing 600 hours of footage into a 90-minute Jackie movie. I hope I'm not just in the director's cut. Meanwhile, Flamingo East is trying to reclaim its queer-hangout throne with a diversity of gay nights filled with neighborhood wackos. On the night of the Clit Club, they had a birthday roast for drag king Murray Hill, and it was deeply moving, especially when Murray's backup girls thanked him for leading them into bankruptcy and prostitution and for creating a safe working environment by "assuring we'll never meet a straight man."

I never met a buffet I didn't like, and at the premiere for the exquisitely inert The House of Mirth, the University Club became the house of girth as I plowed into the food. ("I'm as reliable as mutton," as one character says.) Over the sound of the pianist tinkling Les Miz songs and everyone celebrating the Edith Wharton Restoration, costar Eric Stoltztold me that Terence Davies"gave more direction than any director ever gave. We all pretty much had to give ourselves over to his vision. At first it bothered me a little, but he lived the project for 15 years, acting out every single role. It became enjoyable, if very odd." Likable Eric has been to festivals with the flick and said, "They do sort of tote us around like a circus attraction." Still, he's only seen the ironically titled Mirth twice and said, "It's kind of a brutal film. Not a lot of laughs." But hey, there's enough sex to satisfy Jodie Foster's big bang theory.


musto@villagevoice.com

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