Flaming Creatures' forty-five washed out, dated minutes
depict a place where a cast of tacky transvestites and other
terminal types (some costumed as recognizable genre
faves—a Spanish dancer, a vampire, an exotic temptress),
accompanied by recordings of popular music, shrieks, and
snatches of Hollywood soundtracks ("Ali Baba is coming!
Ali Baba is coming!") dance, grope, stare, posture, and wave
their penises with childlike joy. The marriage
of Heaven and Hell presented with playful depravity.
Reprinted from Green Integer Blog (November 2009).