Author: Steven Smith.

Steven Smith was born in Coatbridge in Scotland. He was brought up in Whitley Bay, before briefly moving to London. He then moved to the seaside town of Brighton, where he was first receiver recognition for his hairdressing skills. Steven moved to America for eight years, working in Beverly Hills, and on his return to London in the late 90s, rose to fame working in fashionable Knightsbridge. He has styled model Katie Price, actress Denise Welch, David Hasselhoff and the cast of Baywatch. Steven had his own column in The Sun newspaper advising on hair and beauty, and was a regular on the Lorraine Kelly show, transforming GMTV viewers into their favourite stars. He made over Lorraine herself, transforming her into movie legend, Elizabeth Taylor.

Steven has been a freelance writer for the last ten years, combining showbiz interviews and travel with his eye for styling. He has written two books: Powder Boy, looking at the dark side of showbiz, and an autobiography: It shouldn't happen to a hairdresser, offering a witty and sad look at his life. He is currently penning a third book to be titled Happy in Chennai.

He has a monthly column, Tales of a single middle-aged gay man that looks at not only the light side of gay life, but also darker aspects such as rape, addiction, and chem-sex. Steven also runs his own beauty/aesthetic blog and is a patron of Anna Kennedy online; a charity that not only supports the autism community but educates the public about those that live with autism.

Categories
Columns

The Real Will &Grace

Will & Grace. Picture Credit: NBC-TV
Welcome to more of Steven Smith’s Tales of a Middle-Aged Single Gay Man column
‘Fag hag’ is a gay slang phrase referring to women who associate exclusively with gay or bisexual men. But you knew that anyway, didn’t you?
Steven Smith

Now, I hate labels of any kind, but when a woman tells me “I love the gays” my toes curl. Even my nephew, when he was thirteen, was smart enough to not fall for that one.

“They are just like everyone else, good and bad”, he shrewdly pointed out. It’s funny in Ab Fab when Adina blurts out “all my friends are gay”. Oh, the irony.

However, the women that happily label themselves fag hags tend to flag up serious warning signs. I have heard it so many times: “other woman just don’t get me, but you and the gay guys do.”

This is usually followed by how she likes bad boys in bed. That’s nice for them. For me, I want to be liked as a person, not for my sexuality or a label.

Since my first time at a gay club in New York, the Limelight, I was aware of lots of very sexy women model types dancing. My friend told me: “they feel safe here. They can dance and not get hit on.”

It was not long before the straight men caught onto this and started frequenting the more glamorous gay venues. On one occasion, I was with a group of guys when a very hot girl walked straight up to us and said “so sad you are all gay. I would f*** the lot of you!”

A little voice piped up: “I am straight”. He was my pal who honestly leads the way in gay fashion but is 100% straight, though many men have tried their luck and a minute later found themselves in a taxi home.

Elizabeth Taylor. Wowza.

Elizabeth Taylor loved the company of gay men, from Rock Hudson to Tab Hunter and Montgomery Clift. She described them as her confidants.

Tallulah Bankhead, when she was not famously trying to sleep with gay men, preferred their company. Long ago, in the time of Mary Queen of Scots, Mary loved to quote the pretty men.

For me, I like people. It seems though by chance that many of my friends are female and quite glamorous and powerful. None of them would be described as fag hags.

In their company I still keep to the traditional male role that I am comfortable with: opening doors, walking on the right side of the path near the road, and even pulling the chair out. Though some of the women I know try to lead when dancing and even pull the chair out for me.

Now, despite having some pictures taken to join a dating website, somehow I am no further along, and the woman who I would call one of my rocks, Liz Branson, is on the phone from her New York office. She splits her time between there, Dubai and London.

“Have you done it?” she enquires. Trying to get off the subject, I ask when she is in London next. There is a pause:

“You haven’t“, she snaps with an air of annoyance. Then she almost commands “Jo Allen’s, Tuesday 9.30”. She does not wait to see if I am free and hangs up. But then texts ten minutes later (“If you are free can you book it?”).

Liz is great fun, but always right about everything and obsessive, sometimes to a point where you want to scream. That’s what makes her so successful, alluringly and fascinating.

She is also always late, arriving with some story, but the reality is it takes her half an hour to cover herself in body oil that makes her beautiful worked-out body glisten. That’s just the part of the beauty regime to go out.

So, despite having brass balls when it comes to business and breaking many high-level men, she still likes to be every part a high-maintenance woman.

Still from the Will & Grace show

She is my Grace, as in Will and Grace, the TV show. Now, it is a common mistake to presume that women “get” gay men just because they hang out with them. Even the woman who proclaims: “I am just a gay man trapped in woman’s body” can be shockingly naive.

One long-term friend of 36 who grew up around the LGBTQ community, recently pointed out on a theatre visit that the show we’d gone to see was a great one for me just because it had five youthful boys, scantily dressed, in the cast.

It did take me back. As pretty as they were they left me sexually cold. She must have noticed none of my boyfriends have been under 40.

My best gay mate would know that the male cast of Peaky Blinders or Colin Farrell would have me hot in my seat. But teen boys have as much effect as Dita Von Teese dancing – nice to watch. She was the same friend who once asked, “Why would you want to give head rather than take?”

This is the case with Liz, apart from one man who was straight when he lived with her and came out later, she really did not know any gay men until me.

I think she presumed we all came in a mould, as she was quick to dash into another relationship with a gay man who was in a rush to take her to gay bars and so on.

My opinion is it should be mutual, and I am happy in a predominately straight bar/club, but as it’s rare I am in a gay bar I tend to have dinner or go to events.

Liz rang me one night: “I am on Clapham Common”, she whispered down the phone. Enquiring if there was concert or some event, to my horror she replied, “no, I’m cruising with… Have you done this?” Really, I wanted to scream – this was a step too far. Needless to say, their relationship did not last when he tried to seduce Liz’s then-husband.

But it was not the first time that I heard of women going cruising with gay men. My former lady boss was once in a Freedom cab (a gay taxi company) when the driver said he was going to Hampstead Heath to drop condoms off by a tree in the cruising area.

She jumped: ‘Oh, I have been there.” Some of her gay pals had taken her. This phenomenon had passed me by. One, I don’t cruise – it’s scary, and broadminded as I am, why would you take a woman?

Well, Liz is late as usual. She has texted several times, blaming the Uber driver, a lion escaping from Regents Park zoo, and a fire at the local orphanage.

But when she arrives she’s looking spectacular, and the whole restaurant turn their heads to look at her. Liz runs her hands through her thick red hair, passes, and waves enthusiastically.

She has just become a vegan, and was difficult enough in restaurants before, but this is taking it to a whole new level. Once, after sending an omelette back four times, famously I took a picture of her perfect omelette and gave it to the waiter the next day, much to her annoyance. It’s just one of the things that make her amusing.

But back to the evening. Only one waiter and chef have resigned since Liz has placed her order – kidding. My suggestion that I nip to Tesco’s and get the soya sauce she wants so badly goes down like a lead balloon as she has everyone fussing over her.

There is quick chat about the gorgeous executive she went skinny dipping with in Dubai and how fantastic he was in bed. Do I think 15 years age difference is too much?

Followed by she really is still into 50 shades of Darryl, a man she met at a conference and had the best sex ever with, but had turned out to be an asshole and who I hate hearing about for the 90th time.

The nice thing about Liz is she is not an energy vampire and likes to hear about you. But it’s the subject that’s not top of my list – my ‘love life’.

She is convinced that my best pal and I should be together and that why I am not with anyone? The problem many people don’t get is you can have a purely platonic relationship when you’re gay with another gay man.

Of course, I love my best mate, but have no plans to marry him. Losing track of how many times that I have told her ‘NO!!’, I tell Liz that’s it, I’ll ask him to marry me next week.

There is a scream and she wants to order champagne. Liz’s face quickly drops when it’s pointed out it’s a tease. Well, I am sure it would have if she hadn’t had Botox two weeks before.

The subject is dropped, and we have lots of laughs and drinks, until she announces we are going to Old Compton Street for after-drinks. “Why?” I ask. Apparently, she loves GAY and the music.

But my gut feeling is that she is very kindly obsessing about finding me a fella. My suggestion of our usual after-venue, Radio Bar, is met with a blank. Realising that she is doing something Liz thinks will be good for me, we take off.

There is no queue to get into GAY, but it is busy, and Liz wastes no time in turning into Cilla Black after getting a drink, and my heart falls as she starts randomly talking to men; all of course adore her right away. “Who do you like?” she shouts above the music.

Liz introducing me to random men to reject me leaves me feeling like a rabbit in the headlights. “I’ll be discreet”, she bellows.“I’m all good, thanks” and hug her.

Liz starts dancing with some colourful drag queens and shouts “I’m a gay icon!” Of course they all agree. Much as there is room for interpretation, Madonna or Judy she isn’t, but for that night she was. It was so kind of her to care.

Flushed with her success at GAY, she wants to explore more, so we head to a bar on Rupert Street, as a friend of mine is there anyway. Her one-woman show goes down well there, too.

I have already briefed her that my American pal is a friend, and not to think about bringing up whether we are dating or anything of that nature. She thinks he’s too young anyway, so I am off the hook.

Liz is now befriending the handsome doorman, who turns out to be heterosexual and married. He waves me over. “Why don’t you take your girlfriend somewhere she can meet a man?” My reaction was to smile. “She wanted to come here, not me.”

Besides, who says she would not meet a fella there? My sister had a holiday romance in Key West with a man who managed a gay club, and one lady friend married a bar man who worked in one.

Liz and I are still happily single, but watch this page for more tales.

Steven is a published author, regular radio guest and has a monthly column in MilliOnAirMagazine. 

http://moa-global.com

Categories
Lifestyle

How to give a good or bad dinner party

In the 70s and 80s dinner parties were a regular thing. With shows like “Come dine with me” and the rise in costs of eating out, dinner parties are making a huge come back.
Though some still entertain at venues outside the home such as restaurants, there is nothing more intimate and fun than having a group of friends or interesting people at your home for a private dinner party.

But as much as a good host can make it a terrific night to remember, the wrong recipe for an evening can make for a bad dinner party that can have your guests talking for weeks to come for the wrong reasons.

When you are holding a dinner party for those who are wine connoisseurs or food gourmets, the dinner conversation will be primarily about both food and drink.

Believe it or not the best dinner parties do not always revolve around either. Although putting on a nice show that does not have you locked in the kitchen away from your guests is indeed a good idea.

In fact, at one of the most amusing dinner parties I attended, the hostess (who was not known for her cooking and often took people out for dinner) called me a week before to invite me over to see her new kitchen and dine.

The day after she phoned, “Darling, would you do your marvellous chicken fajitas on Friday?” I asked if she was doing potluck (when everyone brings a course) as fajitas do not travel too well.

There was a silence and then she continued, “Oh I thought you could cook?” I responded with, “No, it is your turn” and I hung up! Arriving at her stunning Hampstead home on the Friday to see the table beautifully set and the new oven lit, I was suitably impressed.

The hostess had that ‘pleased with herself’ look written all over her face as in fairness, this was not her forte. Wine flowed and nibbles were served but one and half hours later no food had been served.

Looking at the oven the chicken was still as raw as it was on a Waitrose shelf. “My love, is the oven actually working?” I gently enquired. Another hour and we were no further along. The hostess declared that the new oven was faulty and called for Chinese. 

We laughed and put the world to rights until two thirty in the morning and it was just an amazing night. Topped off by the call on the Tuesday that when the repair man arrived the diagnosis was, she had simply not turned the oven on!

I could not help but ask when she was auditioning for “Come Dine with me”. She had so many strengths but cooking was not one so how was she was going to compete? “Darling, you’re coming over and doing it for me.”

However, for the run of the mill dinner party, if you are not having food delivered, do not cook something that keeps you in the kitchen half the night or that is not tried and tested.

Your guests have come to see you socially, not see you stressing in the kitchen. It is a good idea to pre-cook as much as you can beforehand.

Always check what your guests eat. At one dinner I went to they served an enormous piece of goat’s cheese to start with; I would honestly suck someone’s feet rather that eat that.

I did the trick of eating and not chewing rinsing it down with water. Every time I looked back at the plate it seemed no smaller. Eventually the host noticed and I had to admit I could eat no more.

They looked less than impressed. It is a good idea to have some eggs or a vegan option on standby just in case a guest has not been forthcoming with their dietary needs.

What really brings a dinner party together is the company. Years ago, a socialite who was an expert at entertaining shared some tips. Never bring the same type of people together.

Lady X would be much more interested in sitting next to an up and coming artist than another socialite. Invite those that sing for their supper as they are interesting, amusing, can tell a good story or know about the latest in style, books or theatre.

Bringing five actors together unless they are in the same production could spell disaster as they try and outdo each other.

Being a good host is more than just checking everyone is eating and topping the wine up. It is making sure all your guests are enjoying themselves and get to speak.

We have all been there when that narcissist is dominating the conversation: even when they stop, they manage to jump straight back in to make the evening about them.

As a host it is your job to intercept, giving others who are not so forward a chance to speak by asking questions about books, films, theatre productions or art, anything that might interest them. As a good host, pushing the evening to be controversial is a bad idea.

Sure, a great debate with people you are sure about can make for an interesting evening, but do not go out of your way to do this as it could potentially end your night on a sour note. Other topics to stay clear of are age, weight, salaries and politics.

One evening at a dinner I was hosting one guest said to another, “You know when we get to our age it all needs a little lift, but I love my forties”. The guest was livid, “I am 32!” she cried, getting up and excusing herself.

Let the conversation flow and, unless you’re lucky enough to have a great orator for the night such as Stephen Fry, make sure everyone gets to talk. Please do not be that Machiavellian host who starts the night off with, “So who voted for Brexit?!” 

A bad dinner party, and one I will remember for a very long time, had all those wrong ingredients. We went out to eat so the food was good for some of us. There were quite a few of us dining that evening.

It started off badly; prior to our arrival someone I love reprimanded one of the other guests joining us for running late. This caused me great amusement as “Pot, Kettle, Black,” jumped to mind.

They were the last person who should be reprimanding anyone for being late as they had never been on time ever in all the years I’d known them. Me pointing this fact out caused offence and they were still seething as we arrived at the dinner.

The host Mark, though lovely and amusing, wanted to talk about one topic: a certain lady whom we will refer to as ‘Alice’. He and Alice were once close, but no more, and that obviously made her a target.

Now I love a gossip and to hear who is doing what to whom and all the news. It can make for an amusing part of the evening. Everyone says, “Steven knows all the gossip”, but those that know me will tell you I never name names and I mostly just tell amusing stories. I am educated enough to entertain without using gossip.

For those that knew ‘Alice’, this monologue of indiscretions and faults seemed to be keeping them entertained. All that was missing was ‘Alice´s’ corpse as she was being verbally hacked to death.

An hour later our host was still talking about himself and ‘Alice’, only interrupted by “let’s get another round in” and the slight amusement as a guest starter was sent back for the third time.

Our host was blissfully unaware that some of the guests were looking at their phones and one gestured “Come sit with me!” My suggestion, that now we had ascertained ‘Alice’ was a c— , perhaps we should not give over our time to her, was met with a harsh “Mark is talking sssh!” I would have walked out at that point but I was staying with one of the guests.

Just as I thought the evening could not get worse, a very late guest arrived who I will nickname the cuckoo as she had replaced Alice in Mark´s affection.

For a brief time she talked about one of my other least favourite subjects: Diet. Then talk moved straight back to ‘Alice’ in which the cuckoo revelled. 

All that toxic energy being thrown around was making for a very unpleasant dinner experience. Our host was a very smart man but certainly no Oscar Wilde or comedian, and was only aware of his own voice.

Luckily, I was smoking so there were some breaks. I got a text from a guest which simply said “help!” as they were so bored. It is so important that everyone gets a chance to talk, and you ask other questions, so they are included, but there was no chance of that happening at that particular dinner.

This is my last tip when entertaining: much as we are all adults, if you are hosting drinkers, arrange for them to stay over somewhere if they are driving, or book a cab: there are even companies that send someone on a bike to drive your car home.

As you pour that last tequila shot you do not want to hear that one of your guests was in an accident on the way home. Happy dining!

Steven xx

Categories
People

Enigmatic performance artist David Hoyle talks to Steven Smith

“Life was hard for me growing up. I did not fit in at school. The birth of glam rock, such as Marc Bolan and Bowie, offered a light for me and I started to emulate the dress sense”” David Hoyle

Taking a friend see the genius that is David Hoyle (a friend who was a virgin to the experience) raised the question, “What does he do?” As David appeared in all his glory at the landmark LQBTQ+ venue, The Royal Vauxhall Tavern, the natural presumption was that he was a drag queen. No, I explained, he most definitely is not. If Lindsay Kemp and Kate Bush had a child and then asked  Frank-N-Furter to be the godfather, David would probably be that child. 

David is billed as an avant-garde performance artist, singer and actor but that is still not an adequate description of his unique talents. David stands out from the minute he steps on to the stage; he is a vessel of extraordinary light. His light talks to you in a way you could never train an artist to recreate. He may arrive in a variety of costumes, ranging from the grotesque to glamorous diva meets Bowie. No outfit or stage persona could ever hide the fact that David has incredible empathy towards others, especially his audience. He exposes a sensitivity most people would be afraid to show (especially being British!).

David Hoyle and Christeene

David is, however, not afraid to say what he thinks. For many of his loyal and eclectic audience, he is saying what they have been thinking all week but have not had the nerve to say. A David Hoyle show has you thinking and talking for days afterwards, even if you have not agreed with his views. His wit and one-liners, mixed with his art and vocal talents, make a David Hoyle show a roller coaster of a night. When asking an audience member “What do you do for a living?” they replied, “I do what you do”. “Really?” replied Hoyle, “I had no idea I was generic”.

I was a later bloomer to the world of Hoyle. I came to know him when he married American drag queen, singer and artist, Christeene (African Mayonnaise) on stage at The Vauxhall Tavern. A quick Google search led to his brilliant duet with Boy George – Spoiling it for the Others. Hoyle comes across in the video as what Rue Paul’s gals would call a “Fierce Queen” – not to be messed with and someone you would not want to get on the wrong side of. His talents were crystal clear.

David Hoyle and Christeene

Two months later, I came straight from a long-haul flight to meet actress Denise Welch at the Ivy Club for the preview launch of Linda Riley’s DIVA Awards show. One glass in and standing next to me was the man himself.  His huge eyes were far from being fierce and instead exuded a kindness, which was confirmed months later through his actions. He stood on the stage at the Bethnal Green Working Man’s Club with no make-up, baring his soul to the audience about his hometown, Manchester. He spoke about the atrocity of the Manchester Arena bombing. David started the speech by telling us that he did not want to cancel the show as the terrorists would then be winning. Anyone there that night will remember his words forever.

I caught up with him on a grey Manchester day for my Christmas interview.


David, what would you do if you were made the Mayor of London for one day?

Steven, it is time we all started thinking out of the box and letting our hair down. It has been a terrible year. Perhaps we should all take some psychedelic drugs and get loved up – like they did in the 60s. We can look after one another and just feel great for one day. 

How has being isolated affected you as an artist? Have you been in quarantine on your own?

Well, I have not exactly been alone. We had rats in the kitchen in the beginning! To be honest, I have not enjoyed it at all. It certainly has affected the mental health of many people I know.  For me, I can enjoy my own company, but obviously, as a human being used to performing, isolation does start to catch up with you. The breaking point came for me when Dominic Cummings did the Durham dash and got away with it. It felt like one rule for them and one for us.

Who were your early influences?

I grew up in Blackpool, and a birthday treat was to go to Tower Circus. All the glamour of the women in sequins and feathers was sheer escapism. The sheer magic and genius of [clown] Charlie Caroli was such escapism for me.

Dame Shirley Bassey was also a huge influence on me; her glamour and command of the stage is simply stunning. 

Life was hard for me growing up. I did not fit in at school. The birth of glam rock, such as Marc Bolan and Bowie, offered a light for me and I started to emulate the dress sense. The punk scene really offered me an avenue to express who I was. The Buzzcocks and lead singer Pete Shelley were among my favourites, as well as the Sex Pistols.

How do you feel the gay scene has changed in the last decade? Has your audience changed?

To be honest, I do not go out that much on the gay scene. If I do go out, it is to see another artist. I am incredibly proud of how the Manchester scene has produced acts like Cha Cha Boudoir and Cheddar Gorgeous. My own audience remains eclectic; you really could not define who comes to my show. There can be city bankers mixed in with club kids to Blitz royalty. It has certainly changed with the apps and other ways of meeting people. But I could not handle the rejection of things like that.

What would you like to happen to you in 2021?

For me, I would like to be back in the theatre. I had a sell-out at the Soho Theatre and would like to go back there. I was working on a production of Hedda Gabler at the Edge Hill University in Lancashire, and it was going to be filmed. It would be great to see that happen.

Of course, I would love to appear in Brighton or at the Spiegeltent for the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. 

How are you spending Christmas?

With a friend at home in Manchester. It will be a quiet one.

Do you have a favourite Christmas movie? What are your three favourite movies of all time? 

Is Oliver a Christmas Movie? Then Oliver it is! I would have loved to play Oliver, and who can forget the hunky Oliver Reed? I would love to have had a night out with him. Then Hello Dolly with Barbra Streisand. The Red Shoes is pure magic, and the film If with Malcolm McDowell.

If you were to hold a dream dinner party, which four people, alive or dead, would you invite and why?

That’s such a hard question because there are so many people I would love to invite. In case of offending any friends, I will keep it to famous people. Princess Margaret would be at the top of my list. She smoked, and I love that and can imagine the stories she would tell at dinner. Grace Jones would be another guest; she fascinates me and is so talented. Then Bonnie Greer, the playwright, and to top it off, Madonna, who I just love. It would be quite a party.

Do you feel that, as a nation, we have become too PC?

Well, it feels we are in danger of not being able to laugh at ourselves. People are starting to be afraid to deliver humour in the context it is intended, in case it offends anyone. Some of the comedy giants of the past would, for sure, not be allowed today. Let’s take humour in the spirit it was meant to be.

Who would you like to play you in a movie of your life and why?

Cary Elwes – he starred alongside Rupert Everett in Another Country. There is something captivating about him. Or, who knows, Sandra Bernhard.  

QUIXKFIRE ROUND.

Favourite food? 

Fruit and Fibre from Morrisons Super Market (I am not big of food). 

Madonna or Nina Simone? 

Oh, you’re kidding me. Both are wonderful.

London or New York? 

Anywhere but here right now. Both have different attributes. 

The last time you laughed?

Watching Family Guy.  

The last time you cried?

Watching The Kings Speech with Colin Firth

Categories
Columns

Heidi’s Agony Aunt Column

Heidi Gammon, LGBTQIA+ Counsellor
Hi all! My name is Heidi and I am really looking forward to be part of 2Shades Magazine.
As their new agony aunt, I can’t wait to answer your issues and problems!
Picture Credit: Behance

I am a counseller/therapist working in private practice in London, I find people fascinating and I just love helping people.

I have worked with the public for over 30 years so hit me up with all your worries and dilemmas and I will do my best to help!

Dear Heidi,

Love the column. My problem is I am at my second year of Uni and Trans. This term I intend to return as Brendan, my true male self. I have seen a doctor and I am making plans to start transitioning. Being the quintessential butch dyke, this won’t come as shock to my uni mates. But Mum and Dad say if I do that is the final straw and that will be me cut off. They fund my education and lifestyle. Heidi, I am miserable as Kim but as Brendan I feel amazing and who I want to be. What can I do to change my parents’ minds?

– Brendan, Manchester

Hello Brendan,

Great to hear from you and I wish you all the best with your transition. Sadly, you are not alone; it’s not just parents, but friends and those around you accepting you becoming your authentic self. Still parents struggle with their kids being gay, or making choices that they have not dictated or hoped for. However, many parents change their minds once they see you are happy. Your parents love you I am sure, and it can be difficult for them. Please do not overreact and have a little empathy that they are finding it difficult.

Try once things have calmed down to reapproach them. Tell them how unhappy you are and how long you have felt like this. Next look at family counselling if your parents agree to attend. Seek some advice from the support group Mermaids. More importantly, if your parents do cut you off, you may need to look at other ways to stand on your own and fund your education. You do not want to be told that who you are is wrong by anyone, let alone the ones that love you; it will take a strain on your mental health. https://mermaidsuk.org.uk/parents/ 

Love, Heidi.

Dear Heidi,

I do not know if you have been watching” Heartstopper”? Well my latter school years were just like that. I was Charlie and my Nick was the captain of the football team and from the moment we met we did more than kiss. Honestly my last year at school was a dream and my Nick (Alex) was a hero and so good looking. We are going to the same Uni, and it has a LGBTIQQ group we both joined. Alex almost right away slept with two guys from it.

Let’s not start with our nights out in Brighton. He says he still loves me but needs to explore and that I should do the same. One guy said that I would never have stood a chance of getting Alex if it had not been a school fling as he is out of my league. That really upset me but he said it was just a reality check. I am so in love with Alex, what can I do Heidi?

– Howard, Brighton

Still from the Netflix show, Heartstopper. Picture Credit: USA Today

Darling Howard,

Don’t we all just love “Heartstopper”? Now, deep breath Howard. Heidi is going to give you a reality check: “Heartstopper” is a wonderful show, however it does not necessary reflect real life. Not just gay relationships but straight ones do not last the test of time once you leave. It sounds like you are a romantic. Alex wants to spread his wings and, like many young people, experiment and sleep around. You are getting hurt my love, chasing after Alex.

There are others around that want romance so maybe to look for someone who will treat you the way you deserve. As for Alex being out of your league, some of the loneliest people Heidi has met are models or drop dead gorgeous. They just want love and someone to see them for more than looks. How dare someone tell you he is out of your league! The universe will find someone for you, but it may be Alex is not good enough for you. Try and enjoy your time at Uni.

Love, Heidi.

Dear Heidi,

Hope all is ok with you. I went to art college last year and almost right away made a group of new friends. They are all super talented and love to party. Before college I never drank but almost overnight the pier pressure meant I was waking with a hangover too often. Then the drugs crept in, just at weekends at first. Last term I was doing coke almost every other day with one of the new friends who is loaded. My question is I do not want go back this term and do the same thing: I found myself looking for coke this summer and I am sure I have a problem. But I do not want to lose my friends so what can I do?

– Melinda -Epping

 Dear Melinda,

Drugs do not make a real friend. You are on such a slippery slope if you are not already there, they will be destroying your life and education. All this in order to find acceptance amongst a group of people you really only have just met? Trust Heidi, there is a very good chance you won’t even know these peers in a few years. You mention they have money, so they are supplying the drugs.

What a mess you’re going to be in if they walk away: they are still wealthy whilst you are left with an addiction issue. Please get help now, even transfer from this school. Maybe look at going to an A.A or N.A meeting in your area or talk to someone you trust. Please, only you can save yourself so make some wise choices for a happy future. https://na.org 

Love, Heidi.

To get in touch with Heidi, visit https://pinktherapy.com/therapist-directory/heidi-gammon-counselling-for-you/

Categories
People

Sykehouse Filmfest 2024: New film festival helps revitalise local area

Best-selling author, Samantha Lee Howe talks about Sykehouse Filmfest 2024 in Yorkshire
A new film festival is bringing a dash of international culture to a local community as the Sykehouse Filmfest kicks off in June 2024.

Showcasing selected full length films and short films from around the world, the festival aims to celebrate the art of film, and will be awarding several ‘Best In’ categories during the evening of the Live Event.

Sykehouse Filmfest 2024

Creator and organiser, bestselling author and multiple-award-winning screenwriter Samantha Lee Howe, says: “I wanted to create something which celebrated and rewarded my great love of film. There are so many incredible people out there creating works which resonate.

Beautifully shot and scripted pieces which never get a chance to be seen, and this festival offers that opportunity.” Films can be submitted via a platform called Film Freeway, and the festival is open to any works which meet the criteria.

The festival is also open to scripts for unmade works: “As a screenwriter myself,” says Samantha, “I wanted to celebrate the art of the script, without which no film can even be made. It’s the single most important element to a film’s success.” The venue for the Live Festival is the popular Old George Inn in Sykehouse (DN14 9AU), near Goole in Yorkshire.

A glimpse of the award at the Sykehouse Filmfest

The proprietors of the venue, Rosie and John, are also enthusiastic about the event, both being film lovers themselves. Presenting the Live Event at the Inn helps to bring people and locals to the venue, enabling it to continue with the revitalisation of its facilities, and to raise much needed funds to keep going during these times of reduced pub usage, and increasing costs.

There will be a marquee in the grounds, with red carpet photographs and an abundance of glamorous celebrities attending, including actress/model/broadcaster Danielle Mason, artist Craig Davison, ex-rugby player and actor Keith Mason (Skin Traffik), presenter Wendy Turner (Absolutely Animals, The Last Word), actor Gary Webster (EastEnders, Minder) and ‘Britain’s Favourite Son’, popular actor Frazer Hines (Emmerdale, Doctor Who, Outlander), who celebrates seventy years in showbusiness this year. 

In addition, award-winning actress Nina Wadia is thrilled to be attending. The evening is being dedicated to the memory of Rose-Marie.

Dedicated sponors of the Sykehouse Filmfest 2024

The films selected will be screened from 10am, and the winners announced in the evening. The Inn will be serving drinks and offering food all day long, with canapés for the VIP reception.

Samantha says, “I can’t wait to present these amazing pieces of work to everyone. It’s going to be a great day, celebrating all that is good about international filmmaking!”

To book tickets for the Live Event, which takes place on Saturday 29th June 2024, please head to: www.slhfilmfest.com

Categories
Columns

Male rape in the UK: A concerning rise over the years

Stephen Merchant as Stephen Port in the BBC drama 'Four Lives'

Stephen Merchant stars as Stephen Port in the BBC drama Four Lives

This article was first published two years ago following the conviction of rapist Reynhard Sinaga.

Reynhard Sinaga was convicted of 159 sex offenders. Picture credit: PinkNews

Now, with the release of Four Lives starring Stephen Merchant and Sheridan Smith, which looks at the bungled police investigation into the dreadful crimes of Stephen Port, it couldn’t be more relevant.

Ten years ago, on a warm summer’s afternoon I am in a well-known clothes rental store getting a kilt for a Scottish friend’s wedding (I have since bought one) laughing and chatting with the lady who’s serving me. She is about to measure me up when a male assistant interrupts. “Oh, I can see what size he is, I’ll pop down and get a couple for him to try.” There is nothing unusual here and the lady shuffles off. Minutes later the man returns and ushers me to the changing room. “Try that one on first” – and he leaves me. Barely seconds before I have it on, he is back. This time he has tape measure in hand. “Oh, that’s too loose, let me double check the measurements.” Are you gay? To be honest, I really loathe trying clothes on in shops, so my thought was, at this point, that was what that girl was doing before you interrupted.

Before I know it, he has the tape measure around me and as he releases it his hand goes up the kilt and he grabs the Crown Jewels. “Sorry, it slipped, I’ll get you the right size.” Now I feel like a rabbit in the headlights. “Did that just happen?” If I am left in any doubt, he returns with a third kilt in hand and whispers, “Are you gay?” I lie and say no!!! Taking the kilt I close the curtains on him and just stand there thinking “What the fuck?” Funnily enough, the lady who was originally serving me checks me out while he is nowhere to be seen.

Anyone reading this may well say, “The man doth protest too much.” But unless you have been sexually assaulted, you have no idea how you will react. My first thought was, what did I do to encourage that behaviour? Second, if I complain, it is going to be, “You’re a gay man, you must have encouraged it.” If you were that traumatised you should have run out of the shop.” My gay friends were not any help either. One laughed and said, “Lucky you, dear, you’re no chicken but the boys keep coming.” and the other said, “It can only happen to you, do you have his number?.” This is not the first time this kind of thing has happened to me. I don’t want to sound like a victim but I always blame myself.

Much as I have been out since 15 and a spokesperson for LGBTQ and Walk with Pride, due to various experiences there is still some shame and trauma around my sexuality. But I built a wall around myself so nobody can tell. Terrified this experience is common to so many gay men I have spoken to who have been sexually abused or raped. They say, “We must have done something to deserve this.” Trust me, this is not unusual. There are men, gay and straight, walking around who have been raped and are terrified anyone finds out. My heart goes go out to the bravery of Sam Thompson. What a man. Sam was raped by two men in Manchester. He has led the way in encouraging reporting and talking about sexual abuse and rape.

Sam Thompson. Picture credit: BBC

Although in macho British society men are raised on the “big boys don’t cry” motto, we are getting better. Talking about feelings is hard for men because society’s labelling of what a man should feel. It’s almost impossible to live up to. What really stands out about Sam’s horrific ordeal – he is heterosexual – is there are so many comments claiming that it must have been so much worse for him as he was straight.

Internalised homophobia.

This shows a complete lack of understanding. And exactly one of the reasons there is so much shame around reporting being raped among both gay and straight men. It’s as if it was “not as bad” if you’re gay. Almost as if we would take some pleasure in it. Another human forcing them on you is wrong, no matter what your sexuality is. The fear that you’ll be judged can be as bad as the act itself.

Sexual-awareness experts say that probably only nine percent of men raped or sexually abused will report it due to the fear they won’t be seen as “real men” or, perhaps, because of internal homophobia. In fact, many of the men who commit the act of rape don’t identify as gay. They are not typically to be found on the gay scene, though they may hunt on the periphery for victims.

Who could forget the film “Shawshank Redemption” set in a prison when Andy, the hero, hears that the nicknamed “Sisters” (three men) have taken, “a shine to him”? Andy replies, “I don’t suppose it would help if I told them I am not homosexual?” Red replies, “Neither are they. You’d have to be human first. They don’t qualify.”

Shawshank Redemption. Picture credit: IMDb

Male rape has been seen as a taboo subject in the media. It only raises its head in the prison genre of movies. It caused shock revelations when the movie “Scum” came out in 1979 (it was set in a boys’ reformatory) due in part to the male-rape scene. Seventeen years ago, Channel 4’s Hollyoaks tackled the subject with the Luke Morgan storyline. The victim was brilliantly played by Gary Lucy.

It remains their most popular storyline to date. A recent, horrible turn of events has forced the subject of male rape to hit the headlines, with Britain’s worst rapist, Reynhard Sinaga, 36, found guilty of luring 48 men from outside bars and clubs in Manchester back to his flat where he drugged and assaulted them. In many cases he filmed them. The actual number of victims has been estimated to be in the hundreds, but fear, guilt or just not realising what happened meant that many assaults went unreported.

It is so important that these assaults are reported, and that men talk about sexual assault and rape. I know what the risks are because now I am going to talk about the rape of a 16-year-old boy. Me! And just how easy it is for it to happen.

My home life was a nightmare. I had come out just before my 16th birthday but those details or for another day. Needless to say, I was desperate for some kindness and positive male role models. We had moved from Whitley Bay to what was supposed to be London, but it was Surbiton and I knew no one, let alone having the chance to meet another gay person in suburbia.

Earl’s Court Pic

Earl’s Court station in London. Picture Credit: Tripadvisor

There were no apps or dating sites. The rules of my house, apparently there to protect me, actually put me in more danger as I had to be home by a silly time and could never stay out overnight in case the “homosexuals got me”. But it was fine to leave me and go to Spain for two weeks before I came out. Still, we all make mistakes and I am sure my folks meant well. I’m not judging, just giving you a bit of background.

Being a resourceful sort, it did not take long for me to come up with a plan, and I discovered Earl’s Court and a bar called The Coleherne on Brompton Road. Apart from a pint with some of the people at the theatre school in Newcastle I went to when I was 15, I had never really been to a bar, let alone a gay bar. Honestly, it felt like entering the genie’s cave. It was overwhelming – people like me! – and it was exciting.

It wasn’t long before a lad a few years older than me approached me and asked, “Where are you going next?” He thought it was hysterical when I said I had a curfew.

The Pembroke, Earl’s Court, London. Picture Credit: Tripadvisor

He said, “Well lovely, you have time to get down to Catacombs. They don’t sell booze, but we can have boogie and coffee.” He was called Ian and he was going to be my “sister” (gay slang). Oh god, I fell in love with the Catacombs. The rich music of Grace Jones’ La Vie En Rose came bursting up to greet me as I walked down the stairs into the small, vibrant club. I felt free and safe as I danced and laughed with people that seemed to be like me. Honestly, the music of Donna Summer and the like meant I could not wait to go back the following Saturday. It insulated me from the often-miserable time during the week.

One night, one of the guys running the club who was older starting chatting. He told me that hanging out with Ian, I might get myself a reputation. It was a shame as I was “a nice lad”. He said, “Listen, some of us are going to lunch tomorrow, around one o’clock. Why don’t you come too? Don’t tell your mate though. I’ll fill you in when we chat tomorrow.” I was getting what seemed to be approval and he seemed so nice. I honestly could not wait to get home that night and then back to Earl’s Court.

I arrived a little early to make a good impression and had dressed up. He was a few minutes late and patted me on the back, so smiley. He said, “Do you mind if we nip down the club? I need to do a bit of cashing up, the others are running late.” Mind? Of course not. I was actually excited to go.

Once in, he popped some music on, and he had some alcohol behind the coffee bar – hidden, as it had no licence. “Drink?” he said. Who was going to refuse, and he was so interested in me. He was counting money and he eventually topped me up and next thing I feel like I am spinning and in a dream state, and my body was almost limp with the red lights of the club beaming on me.

In my hazy recollection there were two men on me. Luckily, they took me to Ian’s car (worse could have happened). I was being very sick. Ian knew I was a not a big drinker at the time. Honestly, I could hear him going mad and the men saying that too much drink had been consumed. “That’s not drink,” he screamed. He had to give me saltwater as the sick was black. We got a friend of Ian’s to take me home, but I was in an awful state. I dared not tell anyone what had happened and – to be honest – I was not sure what had happened at the time. But I knew it wasn’t good.

Of course, I stuck to the story that it was drink. However, my parents decided that on top of me being gay, I was now a drug addict and mum started calling helplines. This had given them all the ammunition to confirm that everything about being gay was bad.

Of course, it was all my fault. It was my fault that in my need for validation from a male, so sadly lacking, I had listened to gossip and not told my friend Ian. My heartfelt apologies went out to him and it was a lesson. There were other consequences, and luckily Ian helped me see a doctor so I could keep what had happened covered up from family and work. Yet who did I blame. Myself, of course.

So, as in other traumatising situations from my childhood, I internalised it and coped. I moved on and never spoke about it ever again, Of course I apologised for being such a terrible person. Bless my parents, they really were not to know. Still, one of the best things that happened was that I moved out a few months later to Chiswick and was much safer and happier.

But only a month later, one Monday night was Bangs, the UK’s biggest gay club night and I managed to persuade my parents that as Tuesday was my day off it would be easier to stay with Ian. Dancing was my escape. I loved it and quickly I was approached by a young air steward who asked me to a party in the countryside. It was being hosted that Sunday by someone famous who “would love me”. Well, he was young and nice, and it was different, and it was someone famous.

They would even pick me up. Of course, when I got there, and my host greeted me it was straight off to the tennis court. It was only the four of us and we quickly moved into the disco room and drinks flowed. But in all my excitement and nerves, wanting to please, I got drunk on gin and tonic. There was no food, but it became clear I was the main course for the host.

Only later in life, when my nephew got to 15 -16, I thought never would I do something to a young person and take advantage of them. I honestly don’t think I would be responsible for my actions if anyone touched my nephew. It is funny, the celeb is busy dishing the dirt on so many people. I won’t name him, but according to a celebrity pal of mine her friend says he still has young people shipped in.

Trust me, there is another Prince Andrew story out there. It’s only now I don’t blame myself, but I could not talk about things till now: what happened in the Catacombs club, even my best friend and sister don’t know.

What is so frightening is the rise of chem-sex parties in London, with so many deaths and stories of apparent rape. I have never been to one and I am not judging, but it’s just not what would turn me on. 

But I guarantee there will be a line crossed and men will leave blaming themselves for just being there or feel they asked for it for just being gay. GHB, one of the common drugs used at the parties, comes in a clear liquid form and was apparently used by Reynhard Sinaga on his victims (and also by gay serial-killer rapist Stephen Port).

It’s incredibly dangerous and can either kill the user or invoke a sensation of euphoria. It’s a fine line, though. With the rise of this drug and the rise in male rapes too, is it possible we can all talk about it and start to make a difference? No means no and it’s never okay to put anything in anyone’s drink. 

 If you have been raped or sexually abused and would like to talk you can find support below: http://www.mensadviceline.org.uk/help-and-information/gay-and-bi-male-victims-of-domestic-violence/

https://rapecrisis.org.uk/get-help/looking-for-information/support-for-men-and-boys/

https://sapac.umich.edu/article/53

Contact Steven Smith on spman@btinternet.com

Categories
Culture

Lizzie Musical: Unmissable Cast and Unique Story at Southwark Playhouse

“You will feel homicidal if you miss this little gem!” by Steven Smith

Rating: xxxxx (Axe-wielding 5 stars!)

Having just sat through one of the worst musicals in my living memory a few nights before (The time travellers’ wife), the prospect of a rock musical based on a true crime did not exactly fill me with excitement, especially one about the notorious Lizzie Borden who allegedly killed her father and stepmother with an axe. 

Only the fact that a friend had seen the opening at, what is fast becoming the out of town must go to venue, “Hope Mill theatre” in Manchester, raised my interest. https://hopemilltheatre.co.uk (Has this team ever put anything bad on?).

“Lizzie” is now playing at the delightful Southwark Playhouse Elephant https://southwarkplayhouse.co.uk . Just to fill you in and I won’t ruin the whole story, but the musical looks at the reasons why she allegedly murdered her father and step mother. 

And at Lizzie’s defence with the help of an expensive legal team and the support of her sister Emma, maid Bridget, and friend and lover Alice.

Set in 1892 Fall River Massachusetts, the dark atmospheric set complete with an axe puts you in the mood for a something creepy quite early on. 

However, nothing can prepare you for the thrill ride that the show is about take you on: the cast of “Lizzie” are about to blow your socks off. 

This might be an old story, but the cast bring something unique and exciting to the stage. Five minutes into the performance my mouth dropped open and I had to hold myself down as I wanted to dance along with the cast. 

Directed by William Whelton and written by Steven Cheslik-de Meyer, Tim Maner, and Alan Stevens Hewitt my hat goes off to them 

Lizzie looks at some pretty dark topics such as abuse, interwoven with truly touching moments. The love story between Lizzie and Alice is beautifully handled. 

What really makes this a ‘must see’ is the cast, and there are only 4 actors plus a tremendous orchestra. Trust me “four” sure out-does “six”

With the cast raising the roof, you are forgiven for imagining you’re at the Globe theatre, watching some incredible classic acting that has been hijacked by an awesome rock concert! This is what makes the show so unique. They even manage to bring a comic element in the shape of Mairi Barclays, who plays Bridget the maid, without ever going over the top.

Lizzie is played by Lauren Drew (The Voice!), who is so tremendous in the role she deserves every award going, as do the whole cast to be honest.

Shekinah McFarlane plays Emma, her older sister who tries to be a guiding light to Lizzie. Shekinah is a powerhouse of talent you just can’t believe you’re lucky enough to watch. Her solo, “What the F**k Now, Lizzie?”, is one the highlights of the show.

Maiya Quansah-Breed is Alice, Lizzie’s lover. Again, she leaves you spellbound; the handling of the love between them felt so real it was touching. All the fab four should be at a theatre ten times the size. 

But lucky for me and you, they are not for now. 

There is not one thing I can think of that is not positive, except when it got to the interval I felt like a petulant child, “NO KEEP GOING!”. Even the clever costume designs deserve a shout out. 

For sure I will be going back to see “Lizzie” again and you should go too!

For more shows at the Southwark Playhouse in London, visit https://southwarkplayhouse.co.uk

Categories
Columns

Tales of a middle-aged single gay man

Steven Smith, professional hairdresser and author

” BIG BOYS DO NOT CRY!”

A look back to the eras, “Big Boy’s Do Not Cry ” and “You’re a big boy now.”
Researching for an article recently brought a childhood memory flashing back like it was just yesterday. 
Coatbridge Town Hall https://movingimage.nls.uk/film/7814

It was the night when Coatbridge Town Hall burnt down. It was the 27th of October 1967 and I was six years old. Mum had taken me to what they call now “Kids club”. It was a cold night and before dropping me off she announced, “You’re a big boy now and you can get yourself home. Come straight back and do not talk to strangers.” 

A bit of me had always been an adventurer so it was with trepidation and some excitement when the club finished, I stepped out into the cold dark Scottish night air. Everyone seemed to be going in the other direction with their parents. 

I can remember even now being proud that I was big enough to come home on my own even at night as I was now six. My mum, like many parents of their generation, took me to school on the first day and that was it. I still remember her complaining that I had not waved goodbye when they took me to class. 

As much of my life was to pan out, the journey was not so straight. As I walked the cold night air took on a warmer texture and my eyes started to hurt. It became harder to see as I turned a corner the air became thick with smoke: the town hall opposite the street was on fire. 

It was like something from an amazing movie; part of me was filled with excitement and the other with fear. Running fast up the road to find a safe spot, I really wanted to stay and watch as the fire brigade came, and the town hall burnt like a magnificent bonfire.

It was the same building in which my doctor was housed and I had passed my, “Tufty Club “road safety badge. Looking to my left, I thought my mum would have come running, having seen it from the window of the terrace flat in Laird Street, but she had not. Much as every bone in my six-year-old body wanted to stay and watch the building where “The Bee Gees” had appeared just a month before turn to rubble and cinders, taking one last glance, with full force my little body dashed for the safety of home. 

One thing you learnt in the 60s was “BOY’S DO NOT CRY”. I had gotten into trouble for crying a few months beforehand. “What will people think?” was another very 60’s double standard. 

Climbing the stairs to the flat, I banged the door and could hardly get the news out. “WHAT IS IT?” mum looked cross. “The town hall is on fire!” Mum had a look of disbelief and I followed her as she charged to the bedroom window which had a slight view of the hall from the right. Sure enough there it was, all ablaze.

29 A Laird Street Coatbridge Scotland my birth home.

Boys in the 60’s were supposed to look up to the macho man, the heroes of football, movie stars like John Wayne, and enjoy manly sports although my father teaching me football by heading the ball to me in the bedroom was not a great introduction. Quickly I grew to loathe the beautiful game, as the boys at school seemed to kick the ball at me, rather than to me.

Being a red head made me a prime target for bullies from day one. Even at the Saturday kids’ cinema it dawned on me that something was not right when other boys wanted to be “The Lone Ranger” and I wanted to be under his wing and be Tonto. One of my Christmas gifts was an Indian costume. Wow, though only six I quickly discovered that dressing up was addictive and it took me away from less than happy times.

You learn as a child to make sure everything looks OK and that you are doing well. It was the 60’s -70’s as the new middle class boomed. The fear of being seen as working class whilst not quite fitting in with the upper class gave birth to the likes to copious “Hyacinth Buckets” in every neighbourhood. “You should have had my
childhood “and “Do you know how lucky you are?” were common sayings, whilst drilling into you ‘Do not to mention that to anyone”. 

As if things were not bad enough at school, the bullying extended in the worst way possible. Two older girls in the year above became obsessed with me and would kick, punch and throw things at me. Two girls bullying me was just not something I could share. I
found a new route home that they did not know, and made a dash for it. But they found me a few days later when I was halfway home with no one around. They pulled my glasses off and stamped on them, then chucked them over a hedge and spat at me. Hitting them back I was hysterical and they ran off. For the life of me though I searched but the glasses were gone. My mother had told me about the sacrifices that had been made to get them for me. Needless to say, she was furious I arrived home, lying that I had lost them. She did not stop hitting me till she noticed I had chicken pox. 

After convalescing, on arrival back at school, the two girls had reported me for bullying them. It was quite terrifying. I was in the hall with my class and teacher when the girls appeared with their teacher and my name was called. My gut reaction was to run, the teacher caught me just as my little body arrived at the school door gates. Somehow the whole awful event ended by me being hit with a ruler on the back of the legs by a teacher. My dad always said “If you do not hit back, I will hit you” As a young boy this taught me that was it was better to deceive, as when everything looked ok, things were better. 

Boys grew up quickly in the 60’s. I was what they called a latchkey kid. My mum was very glamorous and went to work as promotion girl for “Dutch cheese” “No6 cigarettes” and “Bells Whisky”. Whilst Carol our neighbour looked after my baby sister Karen, it was deemed better I let myself into the flat. I can still remember being
desperate to learn knitting. My mum kept her knitting in the top drawer of her dresser and I would pick it up. I wanted to ask to learn but it was not the done thing for boys.

The extra income meant my sister and I were always the best dressed and best-mannered kids in the area. Mum working meant they could afford the things for us that they never had as children. I must add here that being self-sufficient at an early age made me a stronger person, although me and one my best friends both laugh
when our mums raise objections to their 14 year old grandchildren going to the shops. Times change.

By age nine, I was moving with my family to what was touted as the big time. Livingstone was a new town that promised a utopia of living in the heart of Scotland between Glasgow and Edinburgh. We were now apparently officially “Middle Class”. It was the 70’s and mum wore hot pants, smoked St Moritz, and sipped exotic drinks.
Sergio Mendes, Jack Jones and the Beatles would blare from the record player and “The Abigail’s Party “era was upon us. Much as mum and I always got on, my dad and I had a strained relationship.

There are two possible reasons for this. The first one is that when I had chicken pox, I infected him too. The other is that when he came to pick me up from what was painted as “The Nemesis”, my grandmother, I had run off. Either way the man, who I used to run to meet on his way home with such excitement, could now switch in a second and if mum was not around, he could get volatile. He sent me one Saturday morning to buy potato scones (Scottish dish) and it was quite distance. On the way back two had fallen out of the wrapper into the shopping bag. He went mad and I was not allowed breakfast.

It had a profound effect on me, having to walk on eggs shells with the man that I idolised as a kid. Looking back, I think I can remember the first time that I found a man attractive. Dad had taken my sister and me to the swimming baths. As we were getting changed to go home Dad was in a mood and as he was struggling with my sister’s thick hair and made her cry. My whole body was desperate to protect her, but Dad frightened me so I was looking
away to avoid his gaze. There was this man laughing and his kids were having fun. He was naked and looked like Elvis he smiled at me and to this day he is in my mind as the first man that I wanted to be with.

It was not till later in life, when dad came to live with me when he had cancer, that it became clear. When he was a musician (he played the trumpet) he got a gig playing in an orchestra.  “I used to have to have two glasses of whisky before I went on”, he told me, still smoking away at 74. His nerves got the better of him and he dropped his dream to have the idyllic modern family. My dad worked every day of his life, and we never went without, but I cannot remember a time he did not have a cigarette in one hand and a drink in the other. Even picking him up from hospital after an extensive lung operation, he was nice in the car  to my place, but as soon as I got him settled on the sofa with the kettle on, he shouted out “Worst two weeks of my life! Get me a whisky and a cigarette!”
Challenging him that he did not want to do this or he might end up back in the hospital made him explode. “ARE YOU THREATING ME?!” My dad lived with functioning addiction. Personally, I
have yet to meet an addict that does not have extreme mood swings and explode on occasions. That, I must point out, is my personal experience. 

My time in Livingstone was worthy of a novel and there is only so much room in my column. All I will say is that the voice of Marc Bolan singing “Ride a White Swan”, blaring from the TV, showed me there was a light somewhere that would be the place for me, as it did for many of my generation. A few years ago, when talking at “Shell Oil” in Glasgow, a friend took me to 29a Laird Street in Coatbridge, my first home. It looked so small; even the wall I fell off as a child, when my life flashed before me (I still have the scar today), looked nothing like I remember. 

Boys do cry. And they should cry whenever they want, and speak out when they are scared. Everyone has a strength: being sensitive is one and not a weakness. It´s no longer the 60’s or 70’s and boys don´t have to put on a brave face. They shouldn´t have to pretend everything is fine to make life easier. Always ask kids if they are OK
because there is no shame and saying please help me I am struggling. You have let know one down being a man or human is having empathy and being able to say who you are with out fear. 

Steven Smith https://movingimage.nls.uk/film/7814

Contact Steven Smith on spman@btinternet.com

Categories
Culture

Exploring LGBTQIA+ Unsung Heroes in Award Season: An Interview with Rob Falconer

Gay film director Rob Falconer answers ten questions with Steven Smith

With the LGBTQIA+ award season in full swing, the obvious candidates are always front runners.

Particularly in this day and age with social content and media hype playing an important part.

On location in Amsterdam for Rob’s new film Bob: Man of the Angels with two of its stars Dan Glass and Dan de la Motte

Awards are often financially driven as winning is going to put bums
on seats and entice the lucrative sponsors.

It would be good to see some of LGBTQIA’s unsung heroes, who often fly under the radar and are perhaps more deserving of an award, get some attention.

One such deserving contender is gay film director Rob Falconer. His film “Gay Man’s Guide To Safer Sex ‘97 Directors Cut” sold out at the Barbican in April.

Rob used cinema in a new way to bring education about gay sex and how to keep it safe.

Steven Smith asks him ten questions:

  1. Rob, how did you get into film making?

I was originally an actor and singer (bands, not musicals). I arrived in London at 18 to train as an actor at Guildhall School of Music & Drama, literally across the street from the Barbican where we screened the 2024 version of Gay Man’s Guide.

The focus was all on serious theatre and the RSC (next door). I’m not sure if they realised they’d actually end up training a sex film director. My guns were trained only on screen acting though.

  1. When you came out was it easy for you?

Possibly not for my girlfriends when I was very young! That typically strangled, horrendously painful adolescence for closeted gay teens – a golden time for natural development and exploration you also never get back.

As I say, I arrived in London at 18, still pretty closeted. It was right in the firestorm of the AIDS pandemic and terrifying, but that was that. Instantly I was “hello, boys!” and out. Dates me but that was when button fly 501 jeans were the new thing (and Y2Ks are all wearing them again now!).

My button fly didn’t ever stay buttoned up much after that (as anyone who knows me would probably be only too quick to point out).

  1. Do you feel young gay men are still aware of HIV and safe sex?

The stats do go up and down. By 2013 or so there was a worrying spike with under 25s amongst the highest numbers of people acquiring HIV.

Thankfully that settled back, though a little bit of a rise again recently we’re hearing. A lot of young gay guys are savvy and sassy, well able to make their own minds up. The metrosexual boys in between, hmm, I’m not quite so sure.

And if you need to talk there’s an amazing network right out there waiting, the THT Direct helpline, Switchboard, Love Tank and PrEPSTER, LGBTHERO, the super-approachable teams at clinics like Mortimer Market Centre and 56 Dean Street.

  1. Are apps ruining LGBTQIA+ dating?

Probably, but not completely, I’d say. This is just who we are, where we are right now, nothing to feel shame about. It’ll change again to something else.

But for sure, hook-up apps can make it very uncomfortable indeed if you don’t feel you maybe conform to people’s expected body or gender identity types. And yes, there’s always the potential to find yourself in situations that can become very risky.

That’s the reason you need to get informed, today, just like when we made the Gay Man’s Guide films. Get accurate, unjudgmental information, from people who fuck just like you do, think about what you’re doing and then you have to make you own choices.

Sexual health information services today have made targeted, relevant messaging more easily available than ever before, and they’re making sure everyone in our community feels seen and appropriately addressed.

We’re incredibly fortunate in the UK to have that, though government still urgently needs to really back-up PrEP way more strongly.

  1. What was the first film you ever watched on the big screen?

Sean Connery as Bond in “Diamonds Are Forever”. It changed the course of my life forever…”Plenty O’Toole? Named after your father perhaps?”.

Seriously, that man had a riveting screen presence and talent no one’s ever had in quite the same way since. Cat-like grace too, for such a big guy. Cinema had me at hello and I wanted in.

Bond of course didn’t do boys – though Daniel Craig’s devastatingly good reinvention of 007 kind of prick-teased that he might have done in Skyfall.

  1. Gay Man’s Guide to Safer Sex Directors Cut has a feel of Madonna’s Sex video in places. Who do you take your inspiration from?

Steven, probably only you could come up with that one, and we’re all taking that as the biggest compliment to Gay Man’s Guide! The Lady and Legend herself is always a massive inspiration.

She just takes absolutely no shit from anyone. Ever. I’d like to say that in some of the music I’ve made too, but never shifted in those quantities…

But any artists who, for all sorts of reasons – too often money, had to get very inventive and extremely persuasive, Derek Jarman always (whose collaborators like producer James Mackay and director David Lewis were on the first 1992 GMG film of course), French-Canadian movie star Lothaire Bluteau (unforgettable in the movie of Bent),
the living legend that is Holly Johnson, James Ivory (the loveliest man and incredible director), Barbara Broccoli (“a man’s world”? Yeah. Whatever.), and the one-off human rights dynamo that is Peter Tatchell – working with Peter boots your perspective on the world into realities really quickly.

  1. What is your suggestion to people going into film making?

Er…strap yourself in. Except for the only 10-15 per cent of artists and technical craftspeople who ever really make it, (I’m not one) this is not going to be an easy path for you.

But you’re going to do it anyway, aren’t you? Art’s a collaborative process but it’s still your voice. Don’t let other people use it for you.

  1. There is still a struggle for many young men to find positive role models. Do you feel someone like Aiden Shaw (aka Aiden Brady) is a good figurehead for the community? 

Hell, yeah! You brought up Madonna and she’s definitely a fan of Aiden’s! He’s worked with her. Aiden off screen probably isn’t who many expect him to be.

Even a little shy I’d say, and doesn’t set out to be anybody’s figurehead. But he is, and what a man! An almost annoyingly multi-talented artist, drop-down beautiful too. It’s his total, unflinching honesty that really tells.

We’ll never get anywhere as LGBTQIA+ people if we don’t put the truth right out there to the rest of the world and say, “Just deal with it. Deal with who we really are.” I shot several gay sex scenes in the buff myself as an actor – I’d never ask anyone to do what I wouldn’t myself.

  1. When you are not filming what do you do for fun?

I still occasionally get to ride horses, one of the other loves of my life, (along with boys). My niece’s latest acquisition is a huge Irish thoroughbred event horse named after Parker in Thunderbirds.

I genuinely need a ladder though. He’s very gentle and tolerant with me. I’d love to roll out the stock one of ‘cooking’ but my boyfriend would shut that right down and just cry laughing. I have no talent in the kitchen. None. He might also say, “Don’t date sex film directors.”

  1. What is the one thing you would change about London if you were mayor for the day?

Give us an extremely visible LGBTQIA+ landmark like Amsterdam’s Homonument. We are (at last) getting the official London AIDS memorial though, but only thanks to the incredible work of Ash Kotak and the AIDS Memory UK Team.

Quick round:

Chinese or Japanese?

Vietnamese

Pjs or nude? 

What do you think, reading this? Nothing at all!

Ibiza or Paris?

Ibiza, I like heat (but also French boys very much indeed). 

The one thing that would put you off someone?

Cruelty to any animal (including us). 
 

Call THT Direct on 0808 802 1221 for support, advice and information on HIV or email us at info@tht.org.uk