I've been getting some bruising comments about my last blog. Some people think I was pumping the Panegyric a bit too hard when I proclaimed "Smiley Face" the "Citizen Kane" of Stoner Movies. But the thing is...."Smiley Face" is the "Citizen Kane" of Stoner Movies. It happens to be the truth. If Orson Welles had played a dude who smoked weed all day instead of a Heart-like newspaper magnate, he would have had a hell of a time keeping up with Anna Faris. But some people thought I was just trying to wheedle my way into an ad. Nothing could be further from the truth.
Still, It got me thinking about the critics who love to be quoted, the critics who labor to not to be quoted, and the publicists who spread exclamation points like sprinkles on an ice cream cone. Caught up in my reverie, I suddenly thought of the greatest quote-seeker of them all, a woman who turns the other quote-seekers into mere pretenders.
Norma McLain Stoop was a very slight, elegant woman of a certain age (late 60s? 70s?) who provided us with quotage on a regular basis in the Seventies. She was the film and dance critic for the entertainment nightlife magazine AFTER DARK (not officially gay, but really really gay). Before our films came out she would send us these neatly typed copies of her upcoming reviews. (I think they were made with carbon paper.) You didn't have to wait for the new issue of AFTER DARK to come out; you didn't have to bug Norma to send you something like other critics. Her quotes were deposited at your door as reliably as the Sunday Times, and were ready for immediate placement in your ad! Somebody once said, "If Norma McLain Stoop didn't exist, someone would have to invent her." Well you didn't need to invent Norma because Norma invented herself and she did a damned good job.
Norma was a kind of graying version of a Factory Girl. Rail-thin, she was proud and stately like the other legendary Norma, Norma Desmond (if Norma Desmond hung out at Studio 54). She was immersed in the gay-tinged world of the performing arts. She had New York attitude. She loved NY culture with all her heart and soul, and if people wanted to laugh at her because she was a bit too promiscuous with her affections, then so be it.
Norma enjoyed writing that a film was "One of the Year's Best" Now what does that mean, exactly? One of the ten best? Who's counting? It's up to you to figure it out. Norma reminds me in some ways of the little girl in my building who takes care of my cat Lola when I'm away. Once she sent me a card saying that Lola was the "Number One Cat." I found out later that there were only two Number One Cats in the building.
Critics like to tell the difference between what is good and what is not good and they have scorn for anyone who they feel lacks standards. But Norma didn't review everything. She picked the stuff she liked. Who cares if she couldn't curb her enthusiasm? She was aware of how people perceived her and she didn't care.
Norma is gone now, but her quotes live on. They shout out from the posters in vintage stores; they charm on 70s DVD covers. If I was rich, I would publish a collection of Norma's reviews. It would be just like one of Pauline Kael's books, except a whole lot nicer. And on the cover, I would say that it was "One of the Year's Best." And you can quote me.
Submitted by
February 23, 2007 - 5:41am
Reid,
Thank you for this personal account of Norma. I was named for Norma's husband, Bill. Bill was my father's cousin and they were born just months apart from each other in 1907. They also passed away just years apart from each other (1960 & 1964). I was only 8 when my father died. As a small child I grew up hearing stories about them, but nothing quite as insightful as your story. I never got to meet either of them, but have several pictures of them. Norma was part Panamanian and a very smart and atractive woman. Did you know her personally? Is there anything else you can tell me about her? Thanks again for such a nice tribute to a wonderful woman.
William J. Stoop