A homage to Bruce Weber's Favourite things, these being mixing film, photography and classic movies. With portraits of a lesbian jazz singer and a 16 year old wrestler.
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A homage to Bruce Weber's Favourite things, these being mixing film, photography and classic movies. With portraits of a lesbian jazz singer and a 16 year old wrestler.
This movie is essentially a "how-to" on how to be a well-connected pedophile. I'm amazed that so many people-- especially other gay men-- have seen this movie and read the book and no one has brought up the fact that if Weber was not an influential photographer, he would be in jail, doing time for child abuse. Poor Peter Johnson. Weber took this poor, naive (although incredibly handsome) teenager whom he found at a training camp for high school wrestlers in the Midwest, brought him to live in his home, and took thousands of homoerotic photos of him, many of them full-frontal nudes, all through Johnson's teenage years. That ain't art. It's child abuse. And what's worse, Weber made lots of money off of it, and poor Johnson is going to have serious "issues" the rest of his life. Weber's lecherous love of the boy is downright creepy, as are his ramblings about famous (and not so famous) people he's known, as he tries to complete Johnson's "education." Creepy, and then just plain boring. The only redeeming thing I can say about the movie is that it is a fascinating study of self-deception. But I can't help but wonder why no one ever considered the effect this was having on "Chop Suey" (Weber's nickname for Johnson) himself.
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This movie is essentially a "how-to" on how to be a well-connected pedophile. I'm amazed that so many people-- especially other gay men-- have seen this movie and read the book and no one has brought up the fact that if Weber was not an influential photographer, he would be in jail, doing time for child abuse. Poor Peter Johnson. Weber took this poor, naive (although incredibly handsome) teenager whom he found at a training camp for high school wrestlers in the Midwest, brought him to live in his home, and took thousands of homoerotic photos of him, many of them full-frontal nudes, all through Johnson's teenage years. That ain't art. It's child abuse. And what's worse, Weber made lots of money off of it, and poor Johnson is going to have serious "issues" the rest of his life. Weber's lecherous love of the boy is downright creepy, as are his ramblings about famous (and not so famous) people he's known, as he tries to complete Johnson's "education." Creepy, and then just plain boring. The only redeeming thing I can say about the movie is that it is a fascinating study of self-deception. But I can't help but wonder why no one ever considered the effect this was having on "Chop Suey" (Weber's nickname for Johnson) himself.