Q. How do you say "beautiful, long and depressing" in 12 languages?
A. Babel.
Fortunately, I was at the best movie theater ever, where even though it was 11:20 on a Sunday morning, Keira Knightly was also lined up for a flick. She chose more wisely and saw Marie Antoinette.
In the lobby, which features a rotating collection of art, there were a dozen or so Frank Worth photographs. If you've ever picked up a biography of a famous Hollywood star from the '50s, you've probably held his work in your hands before -- they're iconic candids, made possible because unlike most lensmen of the day, Frank wasn't a studio shooter but a freelancer. Though he's not referenced in any of the (many, many) gay Hollywood books I have lying around the house, the portraits have a distinctly homoerotic tinge to them, and there's something really beautiful about how they've stood the test of time.
The most striking of the set I saw were of James Dean, taking a phone call and a leak at the same time, and one of Sal Mineo, kneeling on a sandy beach as he stripped off his shirt. The other best of show was Cary Grant and Randolph Scott staring at each other across a laughing Rosalind Russell. (Despite trolling Google for a half-hour, I can't find a trace of that one online.)
Worth's work is slowly being restored and sold off -- both to the highest bidder and us wee commoners -- but those looking for a combined collection will have to settle for an out-of-print book (available used at Amazon).
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