Anxiety is what bonds us women together, even more than that sisterhood junk or whichever biological grossness, because it exists inside every type of woman there is. If you’ve spent a minute of your life as a woman, you’ve experienced female anxiety. That’s just the way it goes.

Myra Breckinridge is indeed a failure of an adaptation, yet I suspect the intensity of the vitriol towards this film is about something beyond just the admittedly poor direction; most likely it has more to do with the unconscious biases Vidal set out to skewer to begin with.

A double feature of Moonlight with Chuck and Buck