by Layla
Gearing up for the brand new Camberwell weekend gay scene (well, Club Wotever on Saturdays and Pink Screen Sundays on Sundays, since I am sadly ineligible for gay male naturist swimming on Fridays), Roz and I have been pottering around SE5 in anticipation. At the weekend we thought we'd try out a new bar, but after popping into the Black Sheep (technically Oval), we were met with a sea of staunch heterosexual football supporters all watching a match projected above the only free sofa. Rather than making ourselves centrestage on said sofa, we backed out again and relocated to Bear, which has an excellent selection of real ales, great food, good atmosphere, and invariably irritatingly slow service. Luckily we weren't in a hurry, but when it comes to chips, I can be quite impatient...
Later in the week, we popped into our new discovery, The Joiner's Arms. Their lovely staff are keen to get involved in Gay Camberwell events, and their bar really is ripe for becoming a bit of a gay haunt. We are very taken with it... especially the pool table, comfy sofas, extensive jukebox and lovely staff.
Talking of Camberwell venues... Intrigued to see that Redstar has turned into Planet Nollywood. I hear that this new incarnation is to showcase 'Afro-centric beauty'. Shame about the Redstar, as they were keen to do lots of Gay Camberwell events. Also shame about Mozzarella Pomodoro, which has closed to become a Chinese buffet restaurant. Sad. We're still waiting to see what happens with Johanson's (I suspect I'm spelling it wrongly) when it takes over from Seymour's. As for House, following the information given to us, by someone commenting on this blog, that it is run by and for a church that funds sexuality change classes, we're still investigating. Watch this space for the scoop...
Finally, we made the trip north to see Camberwell's own cabaret star Michael Twaits in his new Sunday evening show in Camden, Icons. The Proud Galleries was a lovely place, but Camden is, when all is said and done, no Camberwell.
by Roz
In the past, I'd rarely walk into a pub and announce that I'm gay. No-one could say that I'm in the closet, but it does seem rather rash. And indeed unnecessary. Except that it turns out that this isn't the case at all. In Camberwell, the result of doing so is - however unlikely the venue - vast amounts of enthusiasm and the offer of the venue as a place for a gay event.
I've intended to visit the Joiner's Arms for years, being attracted by the the beautiful Victorian tiles on the wall, but have never done so. Partly because there are so many other lovely places to go in Camberwell. And partly because it's always looked slightly too quiet to be comfortable... However, ever dedicated to our obligation to go everywhere in Camberwell (even the sterile Grove!), I arranged to meet a friend there for a drink yesterday evening. My friend cancelled at the last minute (the second time in the day that had happened - since when was cancelling acceptable?!), but in fact this proved a blessing. I got talking with the barman, and he explained the pub was under new ownership and was being refurbished. Always with an eye for an opportunity to promote Gay Camberwell, I outed myself. As it turned out, the barman had, in fact, been to a couple of the Gay Camberwell events. As an optimist, I'd even say he was slightly excited to meet us...
Conversation with him and with the manageress flowed, and whilst Layla played all the Dusty Springfield songs in the juke box and bonded with an aged customer, we discussed the possibility of pool nights (I think that this is the only place with a pool table in Camberwell?) and - for me, even more excitingly - a regular comedy night.
Gay comedienne and local favourite, Rosie Wilby, had told us she would be up for doing comedy in Camberwell, if we could find the right place for her. But that's proved more difficult than we hoped. Until yesterday, when in an excess of enthusiasm the manageress offered to get a carpenter to build us a platform in the backroom for Rosie. Hurrah. It looks like the first comedy night will be Thursday 5th February.
So, I think my new year's resolution should be to announce that I'm gay wherever I go in Camberwell. I can't think what Caravaggio's could offer, but I'm excited to find out...
by Roz
I’ve been off work this week, pottering around and recovering from a depressing Christmas with a hypochondriac mother. My pottering has entailed the consumption of a vast number of articles listing “the best” films of 2008, despite the fact that I rarely agree with them. I still don’t understand the widespread enthusiasm for No Country for Old Men, and Persepolis seems to have been forgotten by almost everyone. It would be nice if I could explain this away by pointing to my avante garde gay tastes, but it’s probably more to do with not liking films with big bangs.
Not that this stops me from loving D.E.B.S., the first film we’ll be showing for Pink Screen Sundays, and which does have the odd bang. I first heard of it very recently and I do wonder how it was marketed when it first came out (I'm usually the first to see a film with hot ladies). Particularly after watching the official trailer on You Tube, when I put together the page for the website. I would post a link*, but I fear deterring those who are in two minds about seeing the film from coming along: intriguingly, given it’s a smart, funny film with a lesbian romance at its heart, the trailer hides the romance almost completely and instead works hard to give the impression it’s a poor man’s Charlie’s Angels. (As you will see, I dug out an unofficial trailer instead, which I think gives a slightly better idea of the film. Although – being silent – you do miss the script. Which is unfortunate…) Did the producer of the official trailer hope to trick people – the Pope(?!) – into seeing the film?
The problem with being off work is that I really have no excuse for not doing those chores that I have been avoiding for months. One of which was affixing (in a non-permanent fashion) tiles to the wall (to look artistic, you know). The looting of Woolworths left me in a quandary as to where to find a suitable affixer. Though tempted to seize on this as an excuse, I found myself paying my first visit to Cowling and Wilcox – south London’s largest art shop. Surprisingly busy for NYE and yet with an assistant keen to engage on the merits of various sticky-backed pads and on the sense of guilt which comes with using such items on walls (neither of our mothers would approve), I found myself wishing I had an artistic bone in my body.
The advantage of having set up Gay Camberwell, however, is that I can (almost) justify to myself – and Layla – spending time with friendly venue-owners. Which is why I had to spend time on Sunday afternoon discussing what makes a film gay with the lovely Winston, owner of the Castle. (And drinking wine. But perhaps we could gloss over that…) Thoughts from readers of this blog would be very welcome: our friend Chris, whose boyfriend cooked us a very beautiful curry on Tuesday night, was arguing strongly for Lawrence of Arabia as one of the greatest gay films. It’s not one which I would have immediately thought of. But then maybe it has too many bangs in it for me…
Happy new year!
*For those who really can't resist seeing the original trailer, it's here:
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