沙漠妖姬

实在太喜欢I've never been to me这首歌，简介中看到了沙漠妖姬用了这首曲子于是就去看了。 “We all sit around mindlessly slagging off that vile stink hole of a city,but in some strange ways it takes care of us.I don't know if that ugly wall of suburbia has been put there to stop them getting in or us getting out.” 三个异装癖的故事。一路上，她们被唾弃也被欣赏，她们华丽也凄凉。因着不同的目的出发，不过最后也都找到了自己。 巴士在路上坏掉时，Bernice一个人去搬救兵，那一个片段里的bgm和画面有一种诡异的恢宏。还有在Marian的饭店表演时，三人的服装设计好看到爆炸。 stamp的演技真的太好了，把Bernice这个优雅又成熟的女人演活了。 影片最美的部分莫过于在荒凉沙漠中Felicia着一袭长裙站在巴士顶上，伴着歌剧茶花女的唱腔，彩色披肩和颜料和黄沙随风飞舞。 我以为自己不太能接受异装癖的存在，看了这部影片之后也刷新了自己的三观。 “yesterday I saw a lion kiss a deer.” “如果抛开歌曲，好像可以理解出很多。比如没有弱肉强食，又比如无关身份阶级、无关性别的爱。”

如果是几年前我肯定无法欣赏这样一部影片，色彩饱和的像太阳的调色盘，人物都吵吵闹闹，也没有完整的故事。

没有事情会让我觉得无法忍受，但还是会疼

果蔬说这话的时候我就跟着被刺了一下。

公路片。简单引入将三个人聚在一起后，本就疯癫的旅途中插入更为诙谐的闪回补充一下过去。

以前社交账号上地址总会写澳大利亚。别人问起，我就说以后想去澳大利亚生活，牧场、荒岩、古老的生物……其实我对澳大利亚一点也不了解，那只是一片遥远的陆地，一个可以让我把所有举目悠远的梦都想象出来的地域象征。

很多镜头都太美了，随手一截就是壁纸。

真真诗情画意的月

碎碎火星飞向静谧的夜

玫瑰色落日

Revisiting this 90s flamboyant drag cult made from Down Under, a trio of drag performers, two drag queens, Mitzi (Weaving) and Felicia (Pearce) and a trans-woman Bernadette (Stamp), embarks on a road trip on their titularly coined bus,from Sydney to the outback to perform their routines, en route, they meet multifarious people (whose reaction ranging from beneficent, gobsmacked, impassive, miffed to violent, and the juxtaposition between the aborigine and the white hicks is piercingly sharp) and each has his/her own generational revelation to cope with by the time their four-week-stint ends.

Felicia, a sassy whippersnapper played by a sinewy Guy Pearce in his breaking-out cinema role, who constantly squabbles with Bernadette and has to learn his lesson in a hard way after he has a narrow escape of hate-crime induced mutilation, and Pearce is barnstorming to a fault, as if he is too self-aware of his orthodox masculine appearance, which he compensates with a patina of effeminate affectation and posturing that runs to distracting, as we know that queer and masculine don’t necessarily exclude each other, perceivably, he is the weakest link in the fold.

Hugo Weaving’s Mitzi, acting more natural in his persona’s stage/private distinction, carries a more weighty responsibility when we realize he is married to a woman and they have an eight-year-old son Benji (Holmes), the burden of guilt and shame is what weighs down on every nonconformist being’s soul, his tentative attempt to reconnect with Benj engages with a tender vulnerability that precariously avoids becoming saccharine, which says a lot about the performer’s emotive strength.

Nevertheless, the best performance is unequivocally from Stamp, whose Bernadette is long in the tooth, but she proves that wisdom, dignity and snide quips are amassed through years of hardened self-preservation against side-eyes and brandishing fists, Stamp embodies her with superlative poise larded with subtle cynicism and utter phlegm, which makes Bernadette’s romantic kindling with a rough diamond Bob (Hunter) more like an unexpected boon than a hackneyed plot maneuver.

The show must go on, and for a drag troupe of three, lip-syncing of queer-friendly iconic hits (Charlene’s I’VE NEVER BEEN ME is an infectious show opener, which would be dusted off in Lynne Ramsay’s YOU WERE NEVER REALLY HERE 2017, and rendered an idiosyncratically poignant effect) is just a one trick pony doesn’t offer much variations, so their pageantry lives and dies with its gaudy, zany, eye-popping, varicolored, Oscar-winning apparel, particularly when being put into use against the vast topography in the middle of nowhere, and the crowning moment on the top of King’s canyon, that majesty feeling of being unique in a cosmic world is so refreshing and life-affirming.

Lastly, one cannot stress this enough, it is an unqualified relief that director/writer Stephan Elliott sticks to his guns with a less dramatic leitmotif to anchor his tragedy-prone subject matter in the most gracious way one can probably conceive,PRISCILLA, QUEEN OF THE DESERT is truly,ahoot and a half.

companion pieces: Beeban Kidron’s TO WONG FOO THANKS FOR EVERYTHING, JULIE NEWMAN (1995, 6.0/10); John Cameron Mitchell's HEDWIG AND THE ANGRY INCH (2001, 7.1/10).