I hear of an exciting rumour - me and my rumours! - that the acclaimed writer and movie actor Duncan Fallowell and actress Jenny Runacre are to make an avant garde film about Divine for the 21st anniversary of (Harris) Glenn Milstead's death next year (March 7) - Milstead was the lady herself. Apparently meetings have taken place and the film will be about 35 minutes long, very amusing but strange and dreamy, too.
The ghost of Divvie is plainly drawn to me. Regular readers of my blog will recall my visit to the American Visionary Art Museum in Baltimore in June where I saw for the first time Andrew Logan's monster-sized statue of the silver screen's premier drag act, click here. In some ways it is more like Divine than Divine herself. She was a Libran (natch), just like Duncan, whom I owe a horoscope btw, and his (Divvie's) mummy is still alive as you'll see if you click the link.
I'm not quite sure how Duncan will deal with the shit-eating in Pink Flamingos so I'll ask him when I bump into him at the Groucho. But for Divvie, Hairspray would not have become the great franchise it's turning out to be (the sequel is in preparation); and John Travolta and the increasingly, er, "flamboyant" (doncha love the tabloid cunts?) Michael Ball would not now be celebrated Edna Turnblads of stage and screen (unrespectively).
Divvie owed everything to Dame Elizabeth Taylor whose beauty and incessant diva-dom tutored him-then-her in the dark arts of celebrity warfare and use of kohl.