Heinlein Month: Hot Man Bein’ Hot of the Day, James Dean, “Pussy magnet” edition

“If you would know a man, observe how he treats a cat.”

(Robert A. Heinlein. The Door Into Summer. New York: Doubleday & Co, 1957.)

James Dean being all handsome and fly with a couple kitty cats, and scope those specs no less! Heat.

A very big guy for pretty much only this type of pussy, Dean’s cat’s name was Marcus. It was a present from Elizabeth Taylor.

Finally, a pen and ink drawing which was auctioned two years ago by his museum on good ol’ eBay. Dean drew it for Geraldine Page, his co-star in a Broadway play. I don’t really want to know what those two are doing, but you have to admit it’s a pretty damned good drawing, as bestiality sketches go.

Take-Two Tuesday — Movie Moment and Hot Man Bein’ Hot of the Day: Rik Mayall, Drop Dead Fred

This post originally appeared January 16, 2010.

Drop Dead Fred (Ate De Jong, 1991), featuring madcap redhead Rik Mayall, who makes it all better and doesn’t condescend to mollycoddle while he does it. I would be okay with him cutting my hair in my sleep, or wiping snot affectionately down my cheek.

I could use him, I think, right now … could definitely use him. Walking down memory lane watching this movie was like being repeatedly hit in the stomach with a club carved of ice. (Is that possible? Someone get back to me if it is.) Awesome. Check it out.

Elizabeth’s world has been turned upside down. Her marriage appears to be over following her discovery that he has cheated on her; but she simply can’t stop loving him. In her misery, her imaginary childhood friend Fred reappears, having been previously locked away from her.

Elizabeth stays with her mother; quite cold to Elizabeth, she intends to put Elizabeth back with Charles, but, in the meantime, makes her into a younger double of herself. Elizabeth works to get Charles back into her life, even turning up at a party (with Fred) that Charles is at. Despite part of Elizabeth being overjoyed at seeing Fred again and remembering their fun care-free times together, all he ever seems to do for Elizabeth is cause trouble.

Elizabeth returns to Charles and starts taking medication* to rid herself of Fred. It is only when taking the last pill that she realizes Charles hasn’t changed at all and that Fred is really the only person she can trust. Unfortunately, the only way she can truly [confront her mother and husband] and rid herself of her fears is to lose Fred for good by realizing she doesn’t need him any longer. (the imdb)

I’m a loner! I’m a crazy, wide-eyed loner on a doomed space mission to Venus to battle the three-headed mega-beast! But on the way back, I caught Cornflakes Disease.

Fred: Why don’t we harpoon Charles straight through the head, drag him back to the apartment, and hit him with a hammer until he agrees to come back?
Elizabeth: “Harpoon him through the head?” That won’t work, Fred.
Fred: Why not? How many times have you tried it?

Fred: I can’t believe we left the party so soon. And there was so much wine left to spit around the place!
Elizabeth: I got upset.
Fred: “I got upset.” God, you’re so stupid. You never leave a party until the very, very end.
Elizabeth: Oh, really?
Fred: Yeah, really!
Elizabeth: What about Cinderella? Remember what happened with her?
Fred: No, I don’t remember what happened “with her.” I deliberately forgot all about her. Uck. She made me puke. I remember the ugly stepsisters, though — they were great!

Young Elizabeth: Did they live happily ever after?
Polly: Of course, Elizabeth.
Young Elizabeth: How do you know?
Polly: Because, she was a good little girl. If she would have been naughty, then the Prince would’ve run away.
Young Elizabeth: What a pile of shit.

Wow [points up]. Cobwebs.

Snotface, look — ink! Let’s write something on the carpet. I know, how about “Mother sucks“?!

I don’t love you because love is for girls and girls are disgusting.

*On the subject of the medication, the best single-panel webcomic I have ever seen. Natalie Dee‘s take on Drop Dead Fred: (click to make it larger)

F’reals, Natalie Dee. You nailed it. To say nothing of the high risk of tardive dyskinesia with Haloperidol, making it a very unwise choice of antipsychotics to prescribe to someone under, say, 30. Total bullshit. (Why am I having déjà vu; I feel like I was just rambling about this to someone recently — Jonohs? Panda? Miss D …? ) Anyway, to wrap up, an in-costume off-set picture by the crafts table:

Like all ladies, I am a sucker for stubble. Unlike most ladies, I brake for suspenders and striped pants, as well.

Awesome! Final picture of perfection via the rocketman. Thanks, buddy — this picture, the hair, and Mayall’s hapless expression kind of made my day.

(All screencaps via Samantha, aka timed, on the lj. Huge thanks for the fun and beautiful pictures. The ice stomach club is nothing to do with your great screencaps. Thank you!)

Liberated Negative Space o’ the Day and Hot Man Bein’ Hot of the Day: R. Crumb

The awesome underground comic genius and supafly beanpole hottie R. Crumb poses in the ’70’s with a wall liberated by some of his creations. You might understand the artistic admiration yet still be asking “Realistically, you picked R. Crumb as a ‘Hot’ Man Bein’ Hot of the Day? Up against former category-entrants like Viggo Mortensen, James Dean, and Sean Bean, doesn’t that seem like a stretch?” Okay — NO.

For one thing, I mainly do not discriminate against body type in either direction (except for manorexics in girls’ skinny jeans: you may go take sepia pictures of yourself with knives at your wrists and then write in your livejournal about how mean ol’ E made fun of you). Because for the second and more important thing, hotness does come from within. It is a complex mix of partly physical characteristics that ring your bell but more resonantly it is a response to personality, charisma, mental agility, and weird energy, and yes it can be partially deduced from a photograph, interview, quote, or film clip. (Hence celebrity crushes are sane — ish.)

With wife Aline Kominsky, who actually postdates his character Honeybunch Kominski and is an awesome comix artist in her own right.

That mix: does it mesh with your unique mix? Are you drawn to it? Do you fall in to genre-based-romance and like the class clown, the bad boy, or the quiet type? Do you not care about any of that if the guy smells like a certain brand of shampoo or has a particular timbre to his speaking voice?

It’s not physical so much as something in the eyes, the face, the click, the smell, the deeds and words that make up what a person really is on a plane beneath the physical. That’s why judging hotness results in different outcomes for everyone. And for me personally, R. Crumb’s type of crazy is blazing hot.

Almost bought Crumb’s Book of Genesis in Arcata with Katohs this April, but I changed my mind at the last minute, instead opting to blow all my liquid assets on plates of cheese, to which I am basically allergic, and overpriced vintage records even though both my record players are in Portland — please excuse me while I blow ya mind with my mad rad cash-management skills.

It is 100% a possibly true fact that I am a genius with money, and I encourage you all to attend my smash-hit traveling financial and motivational seminar, “Just Kidding, I’m Broke — Will You Buy Me Potato Skins? No? Split A Cheese Plate, then?” when I come soon to a town near you!

Girls like a boy who reads … his own comics.

Final Thought: Eat spaghetti. Don’t you want to be like Sophia Loren and R. Crumb? What are you waiting for? A sweet rack and emotional relaxation are just a pot of boiling water and a jar of tomato sauce away. Through away that ass-nasty rice cake or low-carb yogurt and welcome back to loving life! You’re welcome.

Hot Man Bein’ Hot of the Day: James Dean in action edition

Seems like you always see these iconic stills of the handsome and talented James Dean where he is very posed (to great effect, I’m not knocking that aspect), but the truth is he was one of those really energetic guys that can’t sit still. He always had to be moving around, even on set when he wasn’t the one before the cameras.

In fact, he got into photography and took dozens of pictures of his famous friends and coworkers while filming and even at parties — I think it was his way of turning the attention off himself because there is no way he could have stood the scrutiny otherwise. It was sort of a prop, but also a demonstration of his neverending interest in the world around him.

Above, camera-shenanigans with Sammy Davis, Jr. on the red carpet; Below, holding the camera and posing his sham girlfriend, Italian actress Pier Angeli. Pier married Vic Damone before her agreed-upon time was up of having to pretend to date the closeted Dean. Dean didn’t mind but the studios did. They had tried to get Natalie Wood first and she said no. She only did so after a short period of gristing the rumor mill to quiet the gossip columnists on the subject of Dean’s sexuality, but I have noted she mysteriously stopped going along with it, maybe getting to like him too well as a friend to participate in lies? dunno — not that she was above that cause she went on studio-sponsored dates with lots of dudes, e.g. Tab Hunter, to legitimize their “swinging-but-not-swinging-like-that-cause-we-are-manly-guys-as-is-evidenced-by-this-date-with-Ms.-Woods!” bachelor status; I have never heard exactly why she turned down their suggestion of long-terming it for fakes with James Dean. Anyway, so they found their Italian Natalie lookalike (I love Pier in her own right but I do not like that she supported that kind of repressive chicanery), but she didn’t end up going for it in the long run either, like I said, marrying Damone. This is a long caption and I feel like I should quit now. Sorry. I’m on Day-Quil. I think it’s strong stuff. (It’s been a long time since I used real drugs.)

So here are some pictures where I hope that sort of frantic, kinetic energy translates, even if the social situation constrained his mobility to crazy facial expressions.

All-time favorite picture via Nick Drake.

I’m a serious minded and intense little devil – terribly gauche and so tense that I don’t see how people can stay in the same room as me. I know I couldn’t tolerate myself. — James Dean

With Natalie on the set of Rebel Without a Cause, 1955.

They say you can’t get it on with a girl in a Porsche. That’s bullshit. If you don’t believe me, ask Natalie. (qtd in Against Death and Time, by Brock Yates.)

In a way, their halfhearted effort at the appearance of being in a relationship served Natalie just as well, because she was actually sleeping with director Nick Ray, who was 44 at the time, and it would have been a big scandal.

Trust and belief are two prime considerations. You must not allow yourself to be opinionated. You must say, “Wait. Let me see.” And above all, you must be honest with yourself.

Instead, Natalie and Elizabeth Taylor became two of his closest friends, and in the final analysis, that’s so much nicer and longer-lasting than sex partners.

Since I’m only 24 years old, guess I have as good an insight into this rising generation as any other young man my age. And I’ve discovered that most young men do not stand like ramrods or talk like Demosthenes. Therefore, when I do play a youth, such as in Warner Bros.’ Rebel Without A Cause, I try to imitate life.

Dig the sarcastically dutiful effort to mention the production company. Such the tongue-in-cheek fox.

Dancing in a straw hat with a cigarette in his mouth: via angelinaadoptme.

I’m playing the damn bongos and the world can go to hell.

Girls like a boy who reads!

False advertising?

No, I am not a homosexual. But, I’m also not going to go through life with one hand tied behind my back.

I think the prime reason for living in this world is discovery.

Giving the thumbs up, about to take off in his ’55 Porsche Spyder 550, which he nicknamed “Little Bastard.” It was the car he was driving when he died.

There is no way to be truly great in this world. We are all impaled on the crook of conditioning. A fish that is in the water has no choice that he is. Genius would have it that we swim in sand. We are fish and we drown.

Hot Man Bein’ Hot of the Day: Vincent Cassel

It has been way too long since we saw a hot man bein’ hot of the day around here. Vincent Cassel, take it away!

Brilliant oddball Vincent Cassel is married to a personal heroine, Monica Bellucci — ten years in August. Impressive! He is a director, actor, writer and musician. Generally he plays maniacs and bad guys (I love crazy).

He has said of his being typecast in tough guy parts, “It’s all right. I like playing baddies.” The first role in which I ever saw him was as Gilles de Rais in Luc Besson’s 1999 film The Messenger: The Story of Joan of Arc, which for my Catholic, action-movie-loving, Milla-Jovovich-adoring money is one of the best freakin’ movies evah.

Some fun Vincent and Monica facts from the imdb:

Both have been the Master of Ceremonies at the Cannes film festival: Vincent in 2006, Monica in 2003.

For professional reasons, Vincent lives mostly in Paris while Monica Bellucci lives mostly in London. Despite this, they have appeared in the following films together: Sheitan (2006), Agents secrets (2004), Irréversible (2002), Le pacte des loups (2001), Méditerranées (1999), Le plaisir (et ses petits tracas) (1998), Compromis (1998), Dobermann (1997), Come mi vuoi (1997) and L’appartement (1996).

Some of Vincent’s english-language credits from which you might recognize him include Elizabeth, Ocean’s Twelve, Ocean’s Thirteen, Eastern Promises, and the forthcoming Darren Aronofsky picture Black Swan, which will also star Natalie Portman, Mila Kunis, Winona Ryder, and Barbara Hershey (freaking awesome).

A musician among his other many talents, Vincent performed the song “Step Da Step Krugom” in Eastern Promises. He also appeared as the voice of Monsieur Hood and sang the gay, snappy little Merry Men number in Shrek — you know, the scene in the wood where Princess Fiona kicks their asses all Matrix style.

Final shot featuring bonus heat from one Mister Viggo Mortensen (of course) from the set of Eastern Promises:

Hot Man Bein’ Hot of the Day: Paul Rudd edition

Ladies and gentlemen, the handsome and talented Mr. Paul Rudd!

“It’s insane but it’s a great insane.” –Paul Rudd

“I was more interested in acting than just doing stand-up comedy. And then my interests in stand-up started getting really weird. I was into a very anti-comedian thing, a very, kind of, Andy Kaufman performance-art type thing, and I thought, “Well, if I were ever to do comedy, it would so not work, because it wouldn’t be funny.” [Laughs.] I think there are guys like Zack Galifianakis, I just think he’s like the best out there, so good. There are so many really good comedians, and I would never be as good as they are. It’s not my calling. What’s funny is, all the comics want to be musicians. Like Tom Waits or Elvis Costello. Same with actors. A lot of people say, “What’s the worst part about being an actor?” And the worst part is that you’re not a musician.” –Paul Rudd

“There’s a very specific thing you can do to get in magazines. I’m much happier to just show up and do the job. I haven’t taken the active approach to making myself a star. I haven’t been in a blockbuster.” –Paul Rudd

Pfft. You are a blockbuster, kiddo! Hot shit.

Hot Man Bein’ Hot of the day: James Dean, Pussy Magnet edition

James Dean being all handsome and fly with a couple kitty cats, and scope those specs no less! Heat.

“Only the gentle are ever really strong.” –James Dean

His cat’s name was Marcus. It was a present from Elizabeth Taylor.

Finally, a pen and ink drawing which was auctioned two years ago by his museum on good ol’ eBay. Dean drew it for Geraldine Page, his co-star in a Broadway play. I don’t really want to know what those two are doing, but you have to admit it’s a pretty damned good drawing, as bestiality sketches go.

Unlikely G: Actually Very Likely Indeed, Inaugural Hot Man Bein’ Hot of the Day edition

Well, looky here, if it is not the inaugural Hot Man Bein’ Hot of the Day!

Sean Bean as Errol Partridge in Equilibrium. What’s got two thumbs and reads Yeats at gunpoint? This flyass mothafucka right here:

Partridge: You always knew.
[begins to read from Yeats while John Preston keeps his gun trained on him]
“But I, being poor, have only my dreams. I have spread my dreams under your feet. Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.”
I assume you dream, Preston?
— Equilibrium

I am not only about boobies and geeky boys from 80s movies and Star Trek. I also am a lady and I like lady things; I certainly can appreciate hot men bein’ hot. This will hopefully be a daily feature. Maybe even more than once a day, because why not? Final g-ness:

John Preston: Then, I’m sorry.
Partridge: No, you’re not. You don’t even know the meaning. Its just a vestigial word for a feeling you’ve never felt.
— Equilibrium

Lit by the fire flickers of the burning “Mona Lisa.” Yeah. That is fly as fuuuuuck, I’m sorry. Critics generally did not like this movie, but what the what do they know? How can you say no to Christian Bale, Taye Diggs, and Sean Bean in a dystopian futuristic action movie with a made-up form of martial arts and secret feelings-awakening rebellion in the form of reading banned books of poetry? That’s, like, ten things that ring my bell. I am not keeping a super-close count, but I’m pretty sure that’s lowballin’ it, even. For me to pan this film would be like a straight high school boy panning Wild Things. Just not happening!

Anybody else suddenly in a better mood about life, the universe, and everything?