1980: I’m seven years old. I’m at the movies with my family, seeing Flash Gordon. The candy-colored, art deco spectacle of it all blows my little mind; it’s even more impressive than the giant robot dinosaurs of The Empire Strikes Back. And when you’re a seven year-old boy, nothing beats giant robot dinosaurs.
1985: Visiting with my uncle in Chapel Hill, NC. We rent Flash Gordon and I’m thrilled to be able to see it again. The camp value of the homoerotic S&M imagery and rampant sexual innuendo is still pretty much over my head, but it makes my family crack up in glee. I’m embarrassed; I just think they’re laughing because my favorite movie is a pathetic mess. [ Continue Reading ]