5 Big Exhibitions to Look Forward to in 2021
Get a load of these!
Get your pen out. You’ve got a date with the Red Hot boys.
Now, you’re going to need somewhere to keep track of your hot dates in 2021 - well, hopefully, right? - so where better than this brand new Red Hot calendar, which this year, for the second year, has gone full frontal. We know!
This trailer makes our gay inner child want Justin Timberlake to be our daddy...
We met Justin Timberlake once. True story. Spent, ooh, an hour with him. Our findings? Taller than you’d think, every bit as cute as you want and funny. Even had a couple of hilarious Britney stories.
Three gay boys rocking around 80s London? We’d watch that.
Here are some names to bandy about. Russell T. Davies, of Queer As Folk, A Very English Scandal, Dr. Who and Years and Years fame; Olly Alexander of Years & Years (not to be confused…), Stephen Fry, Keeley Hawes, Neil Patrick Harris… Impressed? You should be.
Karen from Will & Grace coming to the West End, you say? What are we going to wear?
In olden days a glimpse of stocking was looked on as something shocking now heaven knows… Kardashians getting their pudenda out for money and all sorts of carrying on. Makes you hanker for something a little, you know, less. And yet a little more. Which is where the hardy perennial Cole Porter musical Anything Goes written by PG Wodehouse comes in.
Come up and see some etchings
That Andy Warhol was a saucy so-and-so and never mind that whole little girl lost act. We’ve read the book and everything. And it was big.
Nice Helmut!
He’s the photographer who put the sex back into… well, everything really.
The Crown is back. And this time it’s a bitch-fest!
It might be the hardest bitch-face we’ve seen on our televisions since Alexis Colby Carrington had to take off an outsize 80s earring to make a call to Dominique Deveraux.
Major art booty at Buckingham Palace
One thing royalty are good at is collecting decent art, especially royalty of the British kind. Only Elton John comes close.
A very Dolly Christmas, you say?
Dolly Parton. She’s like Marmite, that one. You either love her, or you spread her on a piece of toast.
Oh, what a life!
So, it’s not a biography but it’s not NOT a biography either. Certainly not an autobiography, through the person in question reckons he could recognise himself, and it’s not really a novel. Or is it?
Almodóvar, Cocteau, Swinton, Balenciaga
No, it’s not a stream of consciousness of some of our top cultural icons, it’s edited highlights from the credits of The Human Voice, the film that’s looking like being one of the most interesting moments in the upcoming London Film Festival.
Grace Jones as you’ve always seen her before
Grace Jones making an exhibition of herself? Well, it wouldn’t be the first time only for once it’s someone else making an exhibition of Grace Jones. You know, just for a change.
Ain't No Hairdo High Enough
Quite apart from anything else, this was to be the Summer of Ross. Glastonbury and a major tour, bringing the big dresses to the little people. Unfortunately, due to the lack of industrial strength wind machines, sorry, Covid-19, all Ross-related activity has had to be postponed... except for this little gem of remixed hits.
Does anyone still wear a hat?
When it comes to Sondheim, there's no shortage of epic moments. Angela Lansbury singing The Worst Pies in London in Sweeney Todd; Dame Judi speak-singing her way through Send in the Clowns in A Little Night Music; and, of course, Elaine Stritch rasping that ode to lazy society bitches The Ladies Who Lunch
It’s disco, it’s Kylie… it’s Disco Kylie!
Whether you love her or love to laugh at her, a new Kylie album is always something to sit up and take notice of, especially as this time she’s been back down the disco mines
Is this the dolliest autobiography of the year?
'I was tall, thin and adored by all who met me whether it was Hubert de Givenchy, Yves Saint Laurent and especially Karl Lagerfeld...' Well, we've all been there.
Rush. It’s a new play starring Rupert Everett.
They had us at ‘Rupert Everett’, right? Right. Because it’s nigh on impossible for anything starring London’s glittering Rupert Everett to be a dud, even that thing he did with Our Glorious Leader (‘Madonna’ in old money). You know, that awks baby daddy one, she’s got strawberry-blonde hair, he’s got sperm.
A Streetcar Named Desire
We won't hear a word against Gillian Anderson. We may occasionally say one but we certainly won't hear it even if we do.
Warhol: A Life as Art by Blake Gopnik
Lucky we’re in lockdown because this 976-page biography of big old gay old Andy Warhol could only ever be read at home.