Sex
Two blonds
"Mulholland Drive" will probably never be understood, but it can be experienced for the haunting, sexy dream that it is.
Yes, I know by the light of every map and street sign in Los Angeles that “Dr.” is for “Drive,” as in “Mulholland Drive.” And I’m not even sure that the film isn’t, technically, called “Mulholland Drive.”
But I am sure, by the haunting light of the movie itself, that the “Dr.” is for “Dream” this time. And just as it is with any dream, when you wake up the first time you’re not sure whether you want to explain the dream, or just have it again. Or, to bring the matter up or down to sex (which is my assignment, after all).
Do you want to sit in therapeutic conference with these stunned blonds in your dream and explain it all: How was it for you? Or, if you don’t mind my being blunt, what exactly was it for you? Or would you rather just be there with them all, or both, or however many there are — carnally thriving, and whispering desperately to them that you love them? As if that claim could set things straight.
I have only seen David Lynch’s “Mulholland Drive” once, and I am quite clear in my mind about only one thing — that it has to be seen many more times, or even with some regularity. Make a habit of it so that you stop thinking. Because it’s not that anyone is ever going to “understand” the movie, or have it all worked out. I dont think I’ve ever been so aware of that serene impetus, in film and dream alike, to not so much grasp as to follow. You could, maybe, learn “Mulholland Drive” in the way you learn lines for a script, or in the way you could learn and remember a sequence of random numbers. But that intimacy or familiarity might not bring you any closer to understanding it. Like a road, with a car, do you just let the vehicle drive over you? Or is it that you are the car, spinning in stasis, as the tarmac unwinds beneath you? I don’t ask, I just go with it.
If it makes things easier for you, I am quite prepared to say that “Mulholland Drive” is a great film, a very great film. So get onboard. Again, simply on the grounds of being as helpful as possible, I can tell you that it has a very steamy (two erections up) love scene between two women. I can’t even remember the names of the characters or the actresses. All you need to know is that one is the perennial blond who comes to Hollywood with a shine in her eyes (this one comes from Deep River, Ontario, I believe). The other is the knowing brunette, the wounded one, with trouble in her life — she may have amnesia, so she sees “Gilda” and decides that her name might as well be Rita.
Why do these two women have such stupendous sex? Because its a dream and a movie, dopey. And also so that you can have the moment when the blond asks, “Have you ever done this before?” and Rita answers, “I can’t remember.” Take that home to your mother when she tells you David Lynch is too solemn for his own good. And I only pick mother at random, you understand.
“Ho ho,” I hear someone say — or perhaps it’s “Aha” — so this is just another of those movies where a man is able to watch two beautiful women getting it on. Oh sure, I say, that same old thing, except that I’ve never had the same deep feeling that this time the women are not so much women (if you don’t mind my saying this) as primitive cell structures just doing osmosis, just slip-sliding together. You see — I hope Im not breaking this to you for the first time, because that could be upsetting — in a dream every trick of the light is or has been fucking every other trick of the light. And always will be.
Just start seeing “Mulholland Drive.” It’s like what the original Mr. Mulholland said about the water in Southern California, “There it is. Take it.”
David Thomson is the author of "A Biographical Dictionary of Film" (new edition just published), "Rosebud: The Story of Orson Welles" and "In Nevada." More David Thomson.
Massage therapists rubbed wrong by sex talk
A Jennifer Love Hewitt show and the Travolta allegations have masseuses tired of being confused for sex workers
(Credit: iStockphoto/sybanto) Joe, a licensed massage therapist, knows what it’s like having a famous client who expects something extra. He had an Academy Award-winning actor begin gyrating on his massage table before raising his hips in the air to show off his erection. “He was hoping that I would play with him in some shape or form,” he says.
Needless to say, Joe isn’t surprised by allegations by two masseurs that John Travolta got handsy during massages. (Travolta’s attorney has denied all the allegations, and called them “ridiculous.”) “It happens all the time,” he says, and not just with celebrity clients. He frequently encounters men who try to fondle him, usually while he’s working on their glutes or lower back and their hand happens to be level with his crotch. “They think they’re so original, but they’re all so much the same,” Joe says, his voice rising. “They all use the same tactics, the same body movements, the same gyrations and grinding my table, the [heavy] breathing.”
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Tracy Clark-Flory is a staff writer at Salon. Follow @tracyclarkflory on Twitter. More Tracy Clark-Flory.
A night at the vibrator museum
Early vibrators were hand-cranked, two-person jobs -- and prescribed by doctors. How far we've come since then
(Credit: Antique Vibrator Museum) I can now say that I’ve used a turn-of-the-century vibrator — on my hand, but still.
The silver, hand-cranked contraption is usually kept behind glass at Good Vibrations’ Antique Vibrator Museum in San Francisco — but staff sexologist Carol Queen made a rare exception. “This is very special,” she whispered, unlocking the case and carefully pulling out Dr. Johansen’s Auto Vibrator, a relic from 1904. The “auto” part is not so much: It was a two-person job, with her having to crank the device’s handle to get it thrumming. Pressing my finger tips to its inch-wide circular platform of pleasure, I was pleasantly surprised by its power.
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Tracy Clark-Flory is a staff writer at Salon. Follow @tracyclarkflory on Twitter. More Tracy Clark-Flory.
Maggie Gyllenhaal on sexual liberation
The beloved indie star tells Salon about her "vibrator movie" and why she loves playing transgressive women
Maggie Gyllenhaal (Credit: Reuters/Mark Blinch) When I met Maggie Gyllenhaal about six weeks ago, she was enormously and gloriously pregnant, stretching out on a sofa with her shoes off and feet up in a Manhattan office building. (Since that time, Gyllenhaal and husband Peter Sarsgaard have welcomed their second daughter, Gloria Ray, to the world.) We were there to talk about “Hysteria,” the charming, lightweight feminist farce from director Tanya Wexler that explores a key event in the history of female sexuality: the invention of the vibrator by Mortimer Granville, a Victorian doctor who was seeking to cure the mysterious “female malady” that lends the movie its title.
Continue Reading CloseMother-daughter sexperts
Susie Bright and her daughter, Aretha, make parental talks about sex look easy -- and fun
Most parents loathe talking to their kids about the birds and the bees, let alone pubic hair grooming, faked orgasms and “water sports” — but most parents are not legendary “sexpert” Susie Bright.
Better than talking about these things, she penned an advice column in 2009 with her daughter, Aretha, then 19, for the ladyblog Jezebel. Their answers to questions about everything from porn to Paxil were unflinching but playful, and at times controversial. Now the pair have collected those columns into a new e-book, “Mother/Daughter Sex Advice.” Together, they read as an irreverent version of “Our Bodies, Ourselves” for the Internet age. The mother-daughter team also reflect on what the experience of writing the column was like, and it turns out it wasn’t as weird as many would think: For the most part, it was just a continuation of conversations they had been having throughout Aretha’s life.
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Tracy Clark-Flory is a staff writer at Salon. Follow @tracyclarkflory on Twitter. More Tracy Clark-Flory.
On the rack: A cultural history of breasts
Did breasts evolve for lactation or to enhance sex appeal? A new book explores why they matter
(Credit: iStockphoto/NadyaPhoto) It’s hard to be boobs. Sure, breasts are cherished as givers of milk and the pinnacle of sex appeal, but the modern world hasn’t been good to mammaries.
As Florence Williams writes in “Breasts: A Natural and Unnatural History,” they’re the most tumor-prone organ in the human body. They “soak up pollution like a pair of soft sponges,” and transmit environmental toxins to babies through breast milk. “Breasts are bellwethers for the changing health of people,” she says. While we’ve “genetically modified our crops to be able to protect them from the ill effects of pesticides,” Williams writes, “we haven’t yet figured out how to modify our breasts.” Aside from using saline and silicone, of course.
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Tracy Clark-Flory is a staff writer at Salon. Follow @tracyclarkflory on Twitter. More Tracy Clark-Flory.
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