So yesterday was “Thanksgiving” in The United States of America! (okay, it wasn’t yesterday, but whatever)
The Resolutions celebrated by cleaning and reorganizing the garage for winter. We also took a moment to be genuinely thankful that we have a garage, and the house that came with it too. The Kid did some schooling while I played video games.
Chonky watched the Daniel Craig James Bond movies which were “completely, totally, 100% non-misogynist. No, really!” until I happened to be in the room stoking the fire:
INT. NIGHT – ANCIENT EXOTIC FOREIGN SEWER SYSTEM
V V is sitting on a tangled pile of plastic bottles and bags. She is shivering in her tiny black cocktail dress clutching B,JB’s white dinner jacket about her shoulders while examining her broken 5 inch heel.
B,JB leans, mannishly out of breath, against the grimy sewer wall.
VAMP VULVA: (dejectedly)
If all that was left of you was your smile and one little finger, you’d still be more man than any person I’ve ever met.
BOND, JAMES BOND: (wiggling eyebrows, cigar)
And you haven’t even seen what I can do with that little finger…
That Chonky has a great sense of humor! “Non-misogynist“? My broken 5 inch heel!
But what I really wanted to tell you about was wieners. Specifically, their placement in film and television. Okay, a particular placement of a particular wiener in a particular made-for-television Perry Mason flickoid from 1986 entitled: The Case of the Shooting Star. I won’t even bother going into the plot line; it IS a Perry Mason tv movie after all and the title kind of tells you everything you need to know.
So anyway, for whatever silly reason the Mason Gang is in *New York* (backlot at Paramount) and Perry’s investigator Paul the Younger (William Katt – Greatest American Hero!) has been sent out to track down some dude for some reason I never did figure out. While on this mission Paul runs into a photographer from some sleazy *New York* tabloid. Naturally, even though Paul thinks she’s sleazy, she becomes the side kick/love interest in the whole adventure and blah, blah, blah.
Enter The Wiener.
In an effort to convince us that the Gang is really and truly in *New York* (and not the backlot at Paramount) we are treated to the quintessential Hot Dog Vendor/New York City Street scene wherein Paul and Sleazy Tabloid Woman discuss what to do about the superfluous-to-the-storyline dude.
The scene starts with a close-up of woman’s hand receiving street vendor wiener with mustard, ketchup and relish. Cut to a full-shot to reveal the busy *New York* city street and conveniently located park bench upon which Tabloid Woman sits. Paul remains standing for the duration.
We are watching the two of them talking from behind the park bench… well they say a picture is worth a thousand words:
I was laughing my ass off! Groooooaning and laughing my ass off! But in the moment I looked away, gasping for air, Paul changes his position to one of Rodin’s The Thinker only while standing with one foot on the park bench! OMG, I almost peed my pants.
And that’s my Thanksgiving story.
Oh, but wait! You came here looking for hard-hitting Radical Feminist Analysis about Wiener Placement, right? Well hang on, let me see what I can pull out of my bag of radfem tricks. **rummage, rummage** Ah, there it is!
The whole wiener thing was, as I said, an hackneyed, schloky device to reinforce the fake-o *New York* location. Shooting from behind the park bench, it would have been difficult to see the wiener if it was being held in a comfortable, natural position. The Director of Photography was all, “Hey, honey? Could you just hold that wiener a little higher? I’m having trouble seeing it. A little more… little more… THERE! Perfect, just hold it right there, babe.”
I’d bet real live money that everybody on-set realized how blow-jobbie it looked (and laughed accordingly. Dailies must have been a laugh riot) but, hey, they already had the close-up insert of the wiener “in the can”, they were “burning daylight” and decided to “move on”. I mean, who was going to notice? It’s a Perry Mason movie fer chrissakes, whaddya want?!
That the woman portraying the Sleazy Tabloid Photographer was the butt of the *joke* is just to be expected. Even in 1986.