The Cockettes

The Times fashion insert on Aug. 17 contained a story on Hibiscus, from his first blush of fame as the young guy sticking the flower in the rifle of the National Guardsman in the famous pic taken at the anti-war rally in Washington up to his death 20 years ago. Interviews with his sister and brother as well. Fascinating read.

I saw the film The Cockettes after a long, seemingly endless stream of disappointing documentaries. It was such a great pleasure to finally see these filmmakers take a veritable goldmine of fascinating material and do it justice. While including enough supplemental material to keep the interest moving, this film really sticks to its guns and offers a satisfying glimpse at the rise and fall of The Cockettes.

I was also really impressed with the quality of archive footage that appears in the film. At first, I had to lean into my screen and ask myself if these were re-enactments. Really, truly stunning.

I think the best measure of this film is the sense of loss one feels when the credits roll~ a mourning that one wasn't there to experience the subject firsthand and be in on the party. But what a wonderful hour and 40 minutes!

Imagine if people told you about a wonderful party they had... and you said, sure, sounds like you had a great time... and then they handed you a two-hour movie of the highlights. What are the odds you would have as good a time as they did? Not very high, especially if you AREN'T high...

That's the problem with The Cockettes, the story of a once-heralded, now largely forgotten theater troupe in San Francisco whose hippie drag shows were a sensation circa 1970. It's an interesting slice of that era, for a while, but neither the vintage footage (they filmed themselves a lot) nor the modern-day interviews are that much more compelling or moving than what you were up to in 1970, or what you think about it now as a respectable middle- aged person. (It is pretty funny to see a pleasant-looking gay bourgeois in his 50s with a neat haircut and mustache be identified by a name like "Scrumbly" or "Kreemah Ritz." One of them, by the way, is the pianist Peter Mintun, well known in San Francisco for reviving 30s society music in venues like the Fairmont Hotel. Funny, the word "Cockettes" doesn't appear on his own website offering his sophisticated musical services, though it does have a picture of him with the most famous Cockette alumnus, disco-era figure Sylvester.)

To judge by the vintage footage, in fact, their stage parodies of old Hollywood movies were pretty terrible, though they might well have been fun in the right altered state of mind. John Waters recalls the spirit of tolerance that greeted him when he came to San Francisco with his movies and was embraced by The Cockettes, but maybe it's that California laidbackness that was responsible for The Cockettes' work seeming so slapdash and slack next to his own films-- they didn't have the sense of outsider desperation that runs through his films like an exposed nerve (or, similarly, through Rainer Werner Fassbinder's films when he put actresses acting like drag queens through the old Hollywood paces). Nor did they have the classical discipline that Charles Ludlam brought to his brilliantly campy farces at the Theater of the Ridiculous in Greenwich Village. (It was a disastrous trip to New York, facing crowds who expected something cleverer than hippies sashaying in the nude in a bad conga line, that pretty much ended the party.)

Ultimately, for all the talk about them being pioneers in genderbending and transgressive art, it's hard to say that The Cockettes had a real point of view about sexuality-- what they mainly had was a good time, which the audience of a documentary will only share in bits and pieces at this late date.

I really enjoyed this film. It's odd that I would because I have almost no interest in hippies or drag queens. But, something about their DIY (do it yourself) aesthetic really resonated with me. They wanted to be "stars," so they dressed up in crazy outfits, dropped acid, and put on "shows" consisting of whatever interested them that week. If they wanted to make a film about Trisha Nixon's wedding, they grabbed a camera, dressed up, make makeshift sets, and shot one. This film was really inspiring to me as an artist.

Although I lived in San Francisco from 1961 to 1966 and saw a few great "Drag Shows" there was nothing to compare to the Cockettes. I'm not sure I would have gone to see this show at the Palace, although some friends might have talked me into it.. and saying that I would never have gone back to see them again. I rated this movie for the nostalgia. Living just off of the Height-Ashbury-Filmore district we often went down to Height St. To watch the beginning of the Flower-children movement and we were always entertained. Great small food places opened up and you could go Cajun , East Indies, Jamaican, Russian, Jewish, etc and the armosphere was great. The best Drag shows in town were at Finocchio's, the Black Cat, and the Gilded Cage. If I remember right Charles Pierce 'Torch Song Trilogy' ( who passed away in 1999, in a town named Toluca Lake Calif). He was the reighning 'Queen Of Drag', and he did a smash-up job of Betty Davis, Tahlulah Bankhead and many more , we all loved him, Bit** that she was. So, I know I have drifted, but had to inject the lagit shows in S.F.

As the New York critics said of the Cockettres, "anyone can drop acid and get up on stage and wiggle there as*, show their private parts, sing off tune and wear women's clothes, but a good Revue this does not make.

So 4 stars for reminding me of all the great times I had in good old San -Francisco-by-the-bay- don't call it Frisco, and you do not wear white after labor day. Herb Cain, Count DeMarco , the fog, trolley's , what a great time............ ciao yaaah69