Bob Mizer | My Brother, the Sister / 1970

permission

by Douglas Messerli

 

Bob Mizer (screenwriter and director) My Brother, the Sister / 1970

 

The year after Why the Wooden Indian Wouldn’t, Mizer recognized there was no turning back. And in his color short, My Sister, My Brother Mizer clearly recognized that the posing strap was a thing of the past to be replaced by the on-screen male-on-male sex, which he had helped to effectuate, was here to stay.

     Almost as if to prove himself up to the task Mizer let loose a grand array of gay sexual tropes. The short begins with Jim Lee entering dressed vaguely in drag, wearing a white blouse with an outline of a bra and breasts and chartreuse pants, being advised that according to the fraternity initiation rules he has to remain on the park bench open to public view for a full half-hour, perhaps even encountering people whom he may know in his drag get-up. Accordingly, Mizer has begun his film, as he did his 1963 work Military School Initiation as part of the trope of sexual control over the new would-be members of it freshmen pledges, while at the same time hinting of cross-dressing themes.

      Almost before the fraternity senior has left, a man arrives wanting to pick-up the female before his eyes, an offer which Jim immediately and emphatically rejects. Soon after a woman appears from the same off-stage “glen” of the park to ask if she might hook him up with other men, willing to serve, evidently, as a kind of female pimp who Jim also sends packing, commenting on how he had never before realized how weird were the folk in his town.

      Finally, a handsome sailor (John Lee) appears, sits down next to him, and—no matter how much Jim attempts to indicate that he doesn’t have what the sailor’s seeking and he’s not at all interested in what the sailor might offer—refuses to leave, insisting that he give him a try, Mizer in the process introducing yet another homosexual favorite, a man in tight white bell-bottomed pants on shore leave.

     When eventually the half-hour has expired, Jim gets up, and since the sailor insists on staying, walks off.

      The sailor, however, follows him home and enters his apartment, looking it over and approving, begging him, even though he apparently recognizes that Jim (still inexplicably in drag) is really a guy, to give sex with him a try. 

       Unable to rid himself of the insistent predator, Jim gives in and finds the whole sexual event, including the fuck the sailor finally accepts as payment for his permission for the sailor to stay on, to be quite pleasurable, the sailor enjoying the new sexual sensation so much that he decides to stay for the two further days he has left of his leave.

       When the credits are shown and the two Lees hold up signs stating their names, a voice asks if they’re related, but the apparent brothers refuse to deny or confirm their relationship, suggesting that Mizer has also tossed in a bit of sexual incest into his sexual stewpot.

        It appears that the boys are simply simulating their anal sex, but they do verbally agree to cum simultaneously, and one even sports, for a few on-screen moments, a full erection. Yet, as I began this piece, the Lees’ acting is so awful, the plot so ludicrous, and sex so unstimulating that we look back with almost sexual longing for films like 42nd Street Hood and Tijuana Bandit.*

 

*I find it absolutely fascinating that after all those years of Bob Mizer’s having basically been able to escape censorship by the US and local governments and seeing in a new era of cinematic male sexual representation, I was censored on Facebook, banned from its pages for a full month, because their visual recognition machine interpreted by picture of two men, wearing posing straps, wrestling on the streets of New York from 42nd Street Hood as representing men engaged in nude sexual copulation. It appears we’ve gone backwards in the notion of what the media is permitted to say or visually present to the public. Oddly enough, when I attempted to post one of Mizer’s film on the internet Facebook, the machine saw the posing straps as nudity and punished me by a month in Facebook hell, which meant I could no longer communicate with my friends.

 

Los Angeles, August 14, 2021

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (August 2021).

 

 

 

Bob Mizer | Revolt of the Android / 1969

to thine own kind be true

by Douglas Messerli

 

Bob Mizer (screenwriter and director) Revolt of the Android / 1969

 

Bob Mizer’s 1969 short Revolt of the Android is one of of his shorts that betrays a good sense of humor combined with a slight narrative that establishes the film as fully sexually male-oriented, and not just a film pretending to be for sexually disinterested admirers of the male form.

       In this work, model Larry Contrell determines that he needs a male helper, ordering up the newest catalogue model, which comes shipped covered in plastic and with two bottles of liquid controls: “Go” and “Stop.”

       Unpacking the handsome Bob Johnson, Contrell carefully administers some of the “Go” liquid and immediately finds the new housekeeper perfect for the job as he lays down on his stomach and asks the android to massage his back, which the robot immediately proceeds to do.

       Meanwhile, reading through the local news he spots an ad for a meet up with a female, which when the servant hears goes against all that he has been pre-programmed to accept. He quickly goes “crazy,” wrestling his owner to the floor, picking him up and properly spanking him before his “controller,” now sitting him down upon the bed with a very sore ass, watches his robot abscond with the offending newspaper and handing him a copy of Male Physique to read instead.

       Unlike the many male butlers of the 1930s who grew nervous and even peevish over their master’s encounters with the opposite sex, this Android stopped such leanings toward heterosexual behavior immediately before it got out of hand.

        This work, strangely, is less about the beauty of its models—although they do make a lovely pair—or their chaste homoerotic interactions, but serves, in a variation of Shakespeare, almost as an open statement to its male viewers, “boy, to thine own kind be true,” strongly suggesting for the first time what the “kind” sexually consisted of homosexual bonding.

 

Los Angeles, October 19, 2021

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (October 2021).

Bob Mizer | Military School Initiation / 1963

military discipline

by Douglas Messerli

 

Bob Mizer (screenwriter and director) Military School Initiation / 1963

 

As an AMG documentary film observes, “if some long-forgotten fraternity jock with latent tendencies hadn’t dreamed up the idea of humiliating fraternity initiations, erotic cinema would have had to invent them.” Starring AMG studio regulars Ernie Matthews, Bob Jackson, Monte Hansen, and Chuck Steury, Military School Initiation (1963) entices us into the world of the military school boys which cinema has long promised us.

    The two senior fraternity members lounging around the house in—what else, given this is a Bob Mizer movie—their posing straps, encountering two new pledges and immediately demanding they strip to their own posing straps (didn’t everyone wear such under skimpy penis coverings in those days?). 

      The seniors pull out their boots and demand the pledges shine them to a black gleam. Of course, the finished shoes do not at all meet the demands of the seniors, who pulling out the ping-pong paddles spank the newbies.

 

     In the very next instance, the pledges eyes are covered with towels tied round their heads while the two seniors spray whip cream over their younger friends’ mouth and noses, resulting in a mass wrestling mass which soon becomes a pile of heaving flesh—the perfect outcome for their at-home viewers. A color promo suggests that before the final cuts there was also some towel slapping.

       Now they’re all friends and equals.

 

Los Angeles, September 20, 2021

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (2021).

Bob Mizer | Slave Market / 1960

damaged goods

by Douglas Messerli

 

Bob Mizer (director) Slave Market / 1960

 

Slave Market of 1960 (also known as “Boy Slaves for Sale”) stars one of Mizer’s most beautiful models, Ray Fowle, who plays a Bagdad slave up for sale, his first appearance in Mizer’s photographs and films.

   A lascivious old man bids for him, as also does a handsome prince (Don McConnell). Like the previous Aztec Sacrifice the work was filmed in an epic-manner in color. But this time around the plot is slightly more complex and the acting, at moments, rather more sophisticated, particularly when the prince attempts to outbid the old man, and eventually loses to him, having emptied his money bag in the attempt to buy the young boy for sale.

    The old man starts to lead off his prize, but before he leaves, the young slave bends down to the prince telling him not to worry, that we will take care of the old man by tricking him.

     Hardly to they get out of the slave market but the new purchase begins to show signs of what appears to be epilepsy, shaking, and nodding his head to one side. The old man turns back to

observe him in anger, trying to lead him away. But suddenly the slave falls to the ground, white froth foaming out of his mouth.

     The purchaser takes out his recent agreement, turns the boy around, and immediately returns him to the slave driver, demanding he get his money back in return for the failed “product,” evidently the seller gladly willing to accept the return of his “merchandise.” Turning to the prince, the scoundrel asks if he might still be willing to pay the amount he originally bid for the boy. Pretending to be somewhat skeptical and observing the slave still showing signs of epilepsy, he pauses before finally agreeing to buy to slave from the elder.

    As the boy moves off with the prince, he still shows some signs of ill health, but the moment they are out of sight, the two hug, the slave assuring his beautiful prince that all is now well. The two hold hands and walk off into the sunset of a thousand and one nights.

 

Los Angeles, July 22, 2021

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema (July 2021)

Bob Mizer | Aztec Sacrifice / 1959

aztec bondage

by Douglas Messerli

 

Bob Mizer (director) Aztec Sacrifice / 1959

 

Bob Mizer’s mini-epic Aztec Sacrifice released in 1959 mocks the 1950s and 1960s religious spectacles such as The Ten Commandments (1956), Ben Hur of the same year, and Spartacus (1960), paving the way for such later underground camp versions of DeMille and other such directors’ works in Jack Smith’s Flaming Creatures (1963) and Ron Rice’s Chumlum (1964).

     In this costumed and color-film movie, Everett Lee Jackson is an archeological student who goes to bed one night after reading his pictorial text book to have a terrifying nightmare where he finds himself suddenly chained, Hercules style, between two pillars by Aztec chieftains who ritualistically provide him with a presumably sedative drink before laying him down and strapping him into place—in a brilliantly absurd moment—with Mylar tape before placing a “poisonous viper” on his chest, its tongue flicking out onto his face. He is surely about die, but suddenly awakens in his own bed, his roommate returning home to find him sprawled out on the bed with their pet snake Jimmy having escaped.

     Despite some seconds of pretend horror, it’s all done with a good sense of humor, particularly since we see Jackson smiling, almost with pleasure, as Physique magazine regulars Jimmy Wilson and George Savage lay him out for the sacrifice. The campy costumes of feathers, beads, and baubles, extravagantly point out the groins of the Aztec chieftains who are understandably attracted to their victim’s pectorals and buttocks.

    I would, of course, liked to have known more about the relationship between the archeological student and his snake-loving friend.

 

Los Angeles, July 22, 2021

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (July 2021).

 

Bob Mizer | 42nd Street Hood / 1957

 copping the hood

by Douglas Messerli

 

Bob Mizer (scenarist and director) 42nd Street Hood / 1957

 

    From my viewpoint, there is little visual artistry—even in his early complex “epic” works such as his Aztec Sacrifice and Boy Slaves for Sale, the mini-spectaculars of the 1950s—and even less “acting” talent displayed by his early silent posers in their straps. The narrative was minimal, usually involving an encounter with two popular gay “types,” a greaser and a cop, college boys and Tijuana bandit, fraternity boys and their pledges, cowboys and Indians (now more appropriately described as Native Americans), sailor boys and Marine Corps recruiters, yard workers and their employers, etc. The plots consisted of the two “types” meeting up, unwillingly or willingly stripping one another, and fighting or wrestling for dominance, sometimes moving off together into the sunset. The standard hierarchal figure of the day would usually “win” over the rebels. The actions are carried out in a near symbolic, what I shall describe, as “American porn-Kabuki” manner. Although violence is the central mode of behavior, it is never truly expressed but simply indicated by gestures and bodily leaps and maneuvers. The guns and knives used to prod the “other(s)” in action might as well have been sticks, and some cases actually were.

    Consequently, it would be utterly meaningless and unworthy of the vast effort to attempt to write about all or even many of his films. I have, accordingly, chosen a few examples, mostly works well known at the time, that represent his standard tropes.

     The one considered here, the first of the selected works which will ultimately include films previous to this one and after, is his 1957, 10-minute short, 42nd Street Hood.

      In this work Doug Scott as a greaser “hood” stands near an alley on 42nd Street, grabbing any cute boy that passes by to rough up and rob. After we watch him rob one such victim we see a policemen (Rick Spencer) dressed entirely in leather walking up to him to demand his identification. A pat-down ends in the discovery of four billfolds, which obviously requires a thorough strip-down.

      The hood is slow getting his boots off so the cop pulls them off tripping the boy up and sending him to the sidewalk. But soon he’s got him stripped down to his posing strap (it’s odd that none of these boys seems to have ever every imagined wearing a jockstrap).

       But the minute the cop turns his attention to the boy’s jeans, the hood grabs his gun and points it at the cop, demanding that he now strip as well, a request to which the cop, seemingly casually and almost joyfully, obliges. But once more, impatience wins out as the hood grabs the pants off the cop, sending him also to ground.

       Before long the two are wrestling or, as we might better describe it, choreographing movements which reveal their muscles and butts, almost always ending up with one lifting the other high into the air as if in a sexual act, before returning to the ground to maneuver their bodies into positions for which the camera might want to get a close up.

    Eventually good (the cop) ends up winning out over evil (the hood), and at film’s end, the two walk off apparently to the police station, still undressed. We have only to imagine what might happen at the station and within the jail.

 

Los Angeles, July 17, 2021

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (July 2021).

 

Bob Mizer | Otte Boersma / c. 1956-1971

body beautiful

by Douglas Messerli

 

Bob Mizer (director) Otte Boersma / c. 1956-1971

 

The largest number of Bob Mizer films consist of single models posing, usually beginning frontally, standing or sitting, turning to their side, demonstrating their asses either in full recline, bending or standing, and returning again to the front where they attempt to engage in some athletic activity, jumping, skipping, lifting weights, etc. These are only as interesting as one finds the model to be attractive or appealing in in his personality. And most of the many hundreds of bruisers that Mizer put to film are simply boring to watch in action, although the effort here, apparently, was to gather as many possible types that somewhere along the way there were enough men that caught the eye of his viewers that they came coming back to order more and more tapes and pursue the pages of his magazines.

     My favorite example of such pointless physique presentations—utterly necessary if Mizer wanted to maintain that his interest in the male form was purely athletically inspired—was of a young blond named Otte Boersma, of who I could find no specific information despite the fact that one can readily find both a clip and whole reel of his session online.

      Boersma as a truly winning, youthful smile, and seems to be simply enjoying the fact that the camera is whisking over his body. Unlike so many others, one can truly see the full outline of his penis through the posing strap, and he seems to even encourage that fact by lamely making a few jumps which turn into a short effort of jumping jacks.

     Otherwise Boersma simply stands smiling, turning to the side, and eventually laying down to do a few sit-ups so that the camera can catch a full view of his ass.

     Near the end he stands again leaning against the column backdrop before simply sitting down on the cement to show off his pretty face, his slightly sweaty chest, and his winning smile, almost waving away the camera at last as if to say, so now I deserve a rest. No grimaces or muscle posturing here, just a cute boy showing his near naked body off.

     The film (B079) is undated, but apparently was shot somewhere between 1956-1971.

 

Los Angeles, October 19, 2021

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (October 2021).

Erik Gernand | Tech Support / 2009

the sound of your voice

by Douglas Messerli

 

Erik Gernand and Jenny Hagel (screenplay), Erik Gernand (director) Tech Support / 2009 [10 minutes]

 

A young woman is having a serious problem with her computer and is more than a little frustrated with the fact that she can’t transfer her files from her own older laptop to the new one she has just purchased.

    After a great deal of telephonic-computer interchange with demands that she press various numbers, she finally reaches a real person, a tech support woman who, after all the niceties that go along with the pretense of being a truly helpful human being, she insists that our central figure (Jenny Hagel) is “putting it in the wrong hole,” which, by coincidence, is what her girlfriend, who has just dumped her, declared.

     The tech support person (Niki Lindgren) suggests what I have done in frustration many a time, that the customer log onto their website whereupon she can help control the devices and lead her customer to complete satisfaction.

      The conversation spills over to her own unhappiness, the fact that she’s moved into a new world where she doesn’t even know the neighbors, and can’t even now connect her new computer up the world that might possibly put her in contact with the rest of the world.

       Out international tech support individual obviously has similar feelings. And since the transfer of her files might take 2-4 hours the two strangers wait it out together.

      The two drink tea, blueberry spice, and share articles that they’ve mutually read. They remember high school and college experiences together, exchange recipes, and read out what appear to be sexual texts—although the tech support seems to be reading from her technical net guide (“to clear a paper jam, open the rear door”).

      With side-by-side images, US director Erik Gernand puts the two closely in touch as they discover a true kinship through the internet, where these days so many lonely same-sex couples encounter others. They engage in bad musical performances and even stapler versions of Morse code. They even drink together, out of matching glasses.

       As the customer reports, “This has been the most amazing 2-4 hours of my life,” the tech support responding, “Me too.”

       Finally our heroine is ready to say, despite her hesitations, “I love you,” but the connection is suddenly cut.

       Our heroine attempts to call back to other Pomegranate tech supporters without any success. But she finally meets up with her love in her next-door apartment dweller.

       If this little simply-filmed satire is not truly profound, it is nonetheless a comedic treat.

 

Los Angeles, February 11, 2025

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (February 2025).