Not the same any more, some how...

A brief, oddish observation.

I was, not too long ago, watching my favourite gentleman's film, Indie Boyz. I call it a gentleman's film because, well, it only has men in it, and is only really filmed for men to watch (although every girl like to watch them. Yes, they do.)

Clearly it's gay porn.

Now, the thing about this particular film is its attempt at Cinema Verite, with odd little monologues that let you "get to know" the talent, and apparently being filmed in the young gentleman's domiciles. These speeches make it rather different from most other films put out by this production company, since they're based in Central Europe and use chiefly talent from the Continent, and quite frankly, dialogue isn't the chiefest factor in these kinds of movies.

But this film is made in England, and they advantage of the local dialect. And, as I said, their housing. So, in the middle of the film, after two young gentlemen meet on the street, they repair to one of the two's bedsit.

And they begin to... well, let's say discuss current politics. And naturally enough, as they're well put-together and pleasingly comely, this is most engaging.

Until you see one of their bookshelves. Sitting there, all of a sudden is a little plastic TARDIS, all blue and square and solid and quite possibly the un-sexiest thing in the universe. And it's like a magnet against suspended disbelief.

They're still going at it, and I'm thinking, "Are those old Target novelisations? I'm pretty sure they are. But he can't be *that* old... Where did he get them? Does the mean he hangs out at Tenth Planet or something? I wonder if he fancies David Tennant*? /That/ puts Billie Piper calling him David Ten-Inch in a completely different persepctive..."

And then I sort of wretch, because the last three Doctors notwithstanding, Doctor Who is not sexy. Doctor Who is the sum of everything *not* sexy, or at least everything *pre*-sexy, and there's something immediately Visceral and Wrong, akin to thinking about grandparents as sexy, if my brain tries to work like that.

So now I can't watch the best part of the damn movie. And it's a great part. Thanks, Eurocreme. Thanks, Simon Booth.* *

Update: Apparently, the film did so well that Eurocreme is truning Indie Boyz into its own division, so Yay!

Update to the Update: Also apparently, you can find them on MySpace and apply to be a model.
There used to be one specifically for Indie Boyz on MySpace or Facebook one, which was about 300% hotter, but now, sadly, I can't find it.

Update to the Update to the Update: Just to share part of the actual experience, I did a screen capture of the relevant moment. Just remember, they're discussing politics.

*And yes, for anyone who bothered to click on the link, I did use the picture that made David look like he probably should be in the movie.

**And no, this wouldn't be at all because he's almost the same age I am, studied basically the same thing, but he directs porn for a living. And I don't.