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My Forgotten Laundrette

My Beautiful LaundretteLast night I watched My Beautiful Laundrette for the first time in about fifteen years. What struck me most was how much I had completely forgotten about the movie, or at least how much I never processed the first time around. It's a swirling mix of class war, race relations, sex roles, social upheaval, and on and on, but I didn't remember a bit of it. I had even forgotten that it had a happy(ish) ending.

No, the only detail that seared itself into my retinas and my memory so long ago was the first time that Daniel Day-Lewis and Gordon Warnecke kiss. It seemed so sweet, hot, and unsensationalized when I first saw it happen, in a way that I hadn't seen in the few movies I’d already seen where the subject of man-on-man had appeared. I guess I was still a few years away from making sense of why I was so affected by that image, which is why it blasted the rest of the movie into oblivion for me. What impresses me even more now was how easily it worked into the fabric of the whole story, a piece rather than the whole point just like life. that’s exactly what I keep longing for whenever some new indie gay flick comes out, and what is so rarely delivered.

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