Natasha Lyonne. One of the broadiest broads there is. She of lion's mane and 50-smokes-a-day raspiness. We all love the wit of Orange Is The New Black's Nicky Nichols, it's impossible not to, but Lyonne has been bringing it for decades now. For instance I recently learned that she got her start with Pee Wee Herman (see evidence below) and was in a Woody Allen musical (also see evidence below). I think many of us, and by many of us I mean fellow nineties kids, first knew her as Sir-Mocks-A-Lot Jessica in American Pie along with fellow OITNB cast member Jason Biggs. Has anyone made a load of family tree type diagrams yet about all the different instances in which that cast have worked together previously? Maybe I should. That would be a fun Sunday for me. At least if I was drawing shit about OITNB it would stop me talking shit about OITNB for a full five minutes (I'm practically at code red swear jar situation, it's like word vomit).
I digress! Lyonne looks good in orange, she looks good in black, she looks good in a cheerleader outfit and she looks good dressed as Groucho Marx. Girl is straight up unstoppable.
This is Part One because I got carried away and this post was gradually becoming a dissertation. Ladies & gents, I give you the years '86-'99.
PEE WEE'S PLAYHOUSE (1986)
Tiny Lyonne was all about free love, apparently. With her bouncy curls and gap tooth grin, she first appeared in homes across America when she was six years old. SIX. And she already dressed better than I do.
What a cutie.
BUT WHAT ABOUT THE ACTUAL FILM: I mean, it's a kids show from the 80s, so... duh, watch it. Paul Reubens is a comic genius, Pixar regularly rip him off, and the set was a surrealist dream.
EVERYONE SAYS I LOVE YOU (1996)
Ten years later and Lyonne was a bambi-legged-ringlet-haired-don't-care kind of teen. She got a big break being offered a role in the new Woody Allen. But you guys, Woody Allen made a really terrible musical. It's self absorbed, it's pervy (in a bad way), and the musical numbers are poorly executed. But good news: Lyonne is excellent in it! And so are her outfits.
Behold the Patterned kimono! The Ripped denim! The Salmon!
I included multiple pictures because I love this look so much. Once, twice, three times an outfit...
Sorry. It's playful and practical. It's a pleasing colour palette. And her hair is rad. Goldilocks exists. And she's called Natasha Lyonne.
Unfortunately this outfit features in scenes that evolve around Woody Allen justifying using personal information about Julia Roberts that she had only shared with her therapist to trick her into leaving her age-appropriate husband and falling for him, a wormy older fraudster with no respect for boundaries. Ye of little morals and little bald spot. It's uncomfortable to watch.
You deserved better than this, Outfit.
And again...
Same spiel, different outfit. You deserved better than this, Scrunchie.
While wearing this enchanting blue butterfly dress Lyonne tells Allen (her father btw) that she's going to marry Alberto, a handsome Italian who wears denim better than even the most stylish of Americans. Imagine those curly tressed children. Allen, a guy who earlier that day stalked Julia Roberts while she was jogging, tells Lyonne that she's acting ridiculous.
SIDE NOTE: The thing about a lot of Allen's work is that I think he assumes when we see him as an actor we disassociate him from being the writer. He relies heavily on the fact that if his character stresses over his moral compass while his ingenue daughter actively pushes for his questionable discretions, it will completely override the fact that he as writer-director EMPLOYED Julia Roberts and Goldie Hawn so that he could mack on them and EMPLOYED Natasha Lyonne to say it's justifiable. I know your game Allen. You're more transparent than you think and guess what, you're creepy AF.
Back to the film. Alberto who? When Lyonne arrives back in the states she meets Billy Crudup, who appears to be in full hunk mode. She's being fickle and looking fabulous!
Here she is serving up dinner. And style. Natalie Portman is dead impressed.
She then ditches airport guy and starts dating a rapper. Lyonne accessorises her beer bottle with great jewellery. This is a very weird scene in which Woody Allen attempts to portray a culture that is not Middle Class White New Yorkers Who Whine And Argue Using Excessive Hand Gestures. It's about ten seconds long and it's downright pitiful. And all the extras look really pissed off (probably because the casting call was deeply offensive.)
Drew Barrymore, Ed Norton, Natalie Portman and Gaby Hoffman don't look particularly pleased either (have I mentioned that this film is a waste of such a great cast?)
This is Lyonne playing hockey with a broom in the hallway while pairing a tied gingham shirt and grey mini with grey tights and brogues flawlessly.
You see Barrymore in the middle there? She's being told by her father that she still has to get married even though she doesn't want to anymore (yay the patriarchy!) Who's wearing the trousers now? Well Barrymore is, and they're a delicious red tartan, but she's still being sexually repressed.
The real style highlight of this film however is in it's conclusion when Lyonne dresses as Groucho Marx. Every item of clothing is way too big for her and the tie looks like she's been sick on it (sick of this movie amiright)
BUT WHAT ABOUT THE ACTUAL FILM: Were you paying any attention at all? It fucking blows.
"The SLUMS of BEVERLY HILLS you say? Ooh an oxymoron, how intriguing" said no one ever, probably. But actually the title is misleading because it should have simply been called "Vivian's Boobs". Lyonne plays Vivian, a high school student moving constantly through different apartments by her dad who is entirely broke but wants all of his kids to remain in the catchment area for 'good' schools in Beverly Hills, California. The main protagonist is Vivian's boobs. The central plot is Vivian's boobs. If this sounds weird, it's because it is. Sometimes it broadens out into Vivian's puberty and Vivian's coming of age but mostly it's about, yep you guessed it, her boobs.
"Ooooh it's a Hollywood noir?". Nope.
It's the summer of 1976! The Olympics in Montreal! The Great British heat wave! Candi Staton belting out 'Young Hearts Run Free'! And Vivian is having a growth spurt in an all male household. Woe is Vivian.
She gets sent to be measured in this great rugby shirt that screams "I have brothers".
And is given this monstrosity. Eye roll indeed.
Anyway, in the secondary plot, Vivian and her brothers are awoken in the middle of the night and told they're moving house.
They hide out at a Sizzlers steak house until they can move into their next place. Vivian wisely chooses a patterned halter, denim shorts and hockey socks as her moving attire.
She doesn't wear a bra with this ensemble, because, duh. Her dad demands she put one on.
Which obviously looks ridiculous. Dads, eh?
Luckily, she's now accessorised with a bright yellow hairdryer though, so it evens out.
Different day, different hockey socks. Accompanied by the ultimate retro item that I mourn for wistfully: ripped denim shirts that cut lower than the butt cheek. Such a prized item, a sighting these days is a true rarity.
Vivian is also sporting a perfectly good baby blue angora that gets stretched out by her cute new neighbour, when he's copping a feel. Coming of age chic!
Meanwhile, Viv's valley-rehab-flasher combo of a cousin falls into the care of the family, accompanied by the uncle's money. Which means they all get to move into a bigger place. Time to pack again kids. And put on your best seventies patterns.
Viv bloody loves wearing that hairdryer! That's her cute boy on the right there, in a... Charles Manson shirt. We as an audience are unsure at this point as to whether he is a fellow murderer or a Trademark Kooky Pot Dealer Dude.
Anyway, their cousin Rehab Rita (aka Marisa Tomei) is a GIRL. So Viv gets to do GIRL stuff now that she's around.
Like dancing around with a dildo to 'Give Up The Funk (Tear The Roof Off The Sucker)' by Parliament while wearing a pink nightie. I mean, we've all done that.
Unfortunately her Dad walks in and spoils all the fun. Vivian is forced to default to her 'butter wouldn't melt in a pretty floral embroidery nightie' schtick... while struggling to turn off a giant vibrating phal. Which looks disturbingly like an ivory tusk. It's an excellent face palm scene and Marisa Tomei finds the whole thing bloody hilarious.
Then the whole family puts their glad rags on and heads out to find Dad a new wife. I'll give you a clue - they find a loose seal on their quest.
It's BLOODY LUCILLE BLUTH! And Vivian periods all over her precious dinner upholstery. Priceless.
So in a strange turn of events we are now witness to Lucille Bluth demonstrating how to use a Menstrual Belt. My god the 70's were a dark time.
Vivian looks as scared as we do. Except she does it in a vibrant patterned dress paired with gold hoop earrings. What a babe.
Now that Dad has been successfully pimped out Viv is busy running round town after Cousin Rita for the sake of the family and the income. Rita needs to stay on the straight and narrow which leads to 16 year old Viv having to babysit a 29 year old which must be a complete bore. But at least she gets to do it in THESE SHOES:
Some kind of floral platform sorcery. Rita enrolls in Nursing school, and Viv has to give her a urine sample in order for her to pass the medical because Rita is with child/just high on pills - it's never really that clear. Anyway caught up in some high jinx on the way there, Viv manages to spill her own piss all over herself. But never fear, Cute Neighbour has a spare shirt.
Yeah his spare shirt is ANOTHER Charles Manson shirt. That he just keeps in his car. Not only that but it's a dirty Charles Manson shirt aka one that he got all muddy during the act of burying a body probs.
Just a pair of young love birds in their matching serial killer T's! S'cute!
It turns out that Rita's (ex?) boyfriend is all dismissive and she OD's - or something like that. Again, it's not really that clear. I don't think the writers really gave a shit about Rita.
There Viv is again with her beloved hairdryer- oh wait, it's a telephone this time. Girl's a sucker for yellow plastic. Her plum suede button down skirt is a real winner.
Back to main plot news:
Mena Suvari avec fresh nose job tells Vivian that big boobs are tacky and awful and that her mother had a reduction to be fabulous. Also, back pain.
So Viv decides to get hers removed?! Like completely removed?! Probably had something to do with the fact she saw her Dad feeling up Cousin Rita. But let's not even go there. Psychological minefield.
She runs into the surgeons office in her best shoes and skirt. Look at those pins!
She doesn't have an appointment and she's a minor. So she doesn't have parental consent and hasn't had any kind of mental evaluation, plus she's wailing like a panicked banshee demanding she get her boobs cut off. But the doctor's response - let me clarify, the certified medical professional's response, is basically "Okay so when can we fit you in for surgery, let me see... let's do it now." I know this is set in LA but this utterly 'sure bro' attitude is still highly questionable. Luckily Viv comes to her senses and runs out of the operating theatre.
Girl Embraces Her Bosom. The End.
BUT WHAT ABOUT THE ACTUAL MOVIE: It's silly. But it's so worth it.
DETROIT ROCK CITY (1999)
Detroit Rock City is a about a bunch of high school boys obsessed with KISS. It has so much potential. For example it has interesting direction and cinematography:
A deeply religious matriarch who smokes a bunch of tickets:
A Stella who unapologetically wears a brooch with 'bitch' written on it:
And Natasha Lyonne serving up backbreaking retorts like nobody's business:
But, it doesn't make sense and it's distinctly rapey throughout. *sighs heavily*
Ergh let's just get back to the outfits already.
Here's Lyonne is in a car dancing to music with her friends like the disco loving goddess she is.
HAHAHA at that guy pointing. Dad dancing before you're a dad is the ultimate.
Lyonne boasts an excess of gold jewellery, a real pride in her blusher application and flying saucer sunglasses that are truly worthy of a Deirdre Barlow neck pop.
Oh and she also chews gum like a champ.
She's got a faux fur grey jacket, a red mini, glitter tights and no time to lose.
Haven't you heard? Disco waits for no one.
So she's gets a lift with our protagonist bozos.
Lips, nails and Smacker applicator. A triple red threat.
Gold eye shadow!
Intense looks
Gold rings. Plastic rings. Jackpot!
Actual pot!
And she's ready to go.
I love a mood ring and I used to buy plastic rings like that from Camden all the time. I think you still can.
Something else that I would like to point out about Detroit Rock City is that it features the best pizza delivery service EVER.
1. It's a pink vehicle.
2. It's called Pizza Pig.
And 3. The delivery guy is dressed like a Pink Lady.
What kind of monster would object to Rizzo delivering the dough?
Also because of the Capulet/Montague relationship dynamic of this film between Disco and Rock'n'roll, I heartily recommend the soundtrack. It's ace.
And there may be a legit medical reason for why all these kids act like homocidal maniacs and we're still supposed to sympathise and WANT them to get to see the KISS show? Lack of blood flow, perhaps.
Yep. No oxygen getting to the brain.
So it's not all terrible.
And...I guess that's it.
Stay tuned for Part Two. It'll be a treat. I'm talking But I'm A Cheerleader, American Pie, Party Monster, G.B.F and Orange Is The New Black.
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