Jonathan Kieran

I shall not beat around the bush—no, not for a second. Barbra Streisand was a technically dazzling singer, albeit one whose voice was (in my opinion) void of tangible charm or pathos. My mom loved her for a few years when I was just a wee thing, I recall. As kids we always “allowed” Dad to buy the latest Barbra Streisand album for Mom at Christmas, along with a new bottle of Chanel No. 5. That was her gift from the boys. Bab’s Christmas album (singing Schubert’s Ave Maria and a slew of other Yiddish odes) was a yearly favorite.

Never went to see any Barbra Streisand movies in the 1980s or 1990s or beyond. What did she do by that time—screwball comedies? Lavish musicals? The only films I vaguely recall being associated with her (without Googling) are Yentl, Prince of Tides, and The Mirror Has Two Faces. All struck me as films to which one would have to bring a Shih-Tzu and a thick mug full of pumpkin spice chai, sipping between sniffles. And she would be so deliberately and over-purposefully lit that every frame would be poster-worthy to the point of rigidity. I must admit, if anything about Streisand ever struck me, it was her lifelong obsession with lighting and blocking and being filmed only from her “best” side via contortionist camera angles for interviews—a quirk that seemed to seep into the overall fabric of the rest of her career. (Weren’t there incidents wherein Babs demanded the rearrangement of Rosie O’Donnell’s and Oprah’s entire TV sets to favor her left profile and something about a repainted microphone?)

What an earthy, transparent, no-nonsense genius.

All of this being said, I loved Barbara in South Park as Mechastreisand. To me, that is her best performance in any medium. Why she didn’t win an Emmy for that I’ll never know.

Otherwise, I never “got” her appeal. I can grasp her appeal to middle-American women, happy NY Jewish ladies, et al. That’s understandable and valuable. Humans have different tastes. It’s all good. The thrall in which Babs seems to hold some gay men is also baffling. Aren’t many gay men usually riveted by an ingredient of unwavering soul, complex artistry, and by the baring of the blood-spewing heart, when it comes to singers? As far as I can recall, Barbra Streisand rarely if ever performed “live” in her career heyday, possessed the pizzaz of a wire-hanger when she did, and her musical catalogue was mostly pap. Muzak-level burbling. (No major song fit for human ears should ever include the words “EZ chair”. You might as well sing lyrics like “Let me be your Tea Co-Z” or “The desire in my loins is greased like a pan full of sizzling Hormel corned beef hash.”) Babula has never been any great shakes as an actress. (I did eventually see her iteration of A Star Is Born—nails on a chalkboard.) I never saw any of her Oscar winning roles, the Funny Girl, Funny Lady fluff. I have an inkling that an awful lot of Academy voters were caught-up in the fumes of a Barbra fad, at the time. Pet rocks and mood rings got people excited, too. Kardashians become billionaires. Neil Diamond and Chris DeBurgh once made women squirm in their seats and their tunes were considered “deep” and “groovy”.

Obviously, Streisand was not, by any means, a flash in the plan; her extensive career accomplishments speak for themselves. Just because I find her about as exciting as a leftover piece of cardboard from the dry cleaners doesn’t change any of that. The lady deserves her props.

Now, however, in the twilight of her years, Babs is threatening the world with an autobiography that arrives in November. My Name is Barbra. Yes, yes, and don’t you ever dare freaking forget it.

A few tidbits have leaked from the work.

In one leak, Babs is at a party in 1966 and Marlon Brando approaches her and declares to Barbra, unceremoniously: “I’d like to f— you.” Barbra declines but the two remain chums for life. Tidy and classy. What a vignette full of nuance and intrigue.

I don’t see how that comes as a shock. Isn’t that the very first thing EVERY man says to Barbra Streisand when he meets her and is thunderstruck by the radiant spell of her divine allure?

It has been scientifically documented that men who enter her presence—hundreds of men, thousands of them—all utter the same line, compelled by animal-lust and insatiable desire:

“I’d like to f— you.”

Then Barbra declines and they mosey along.

Seriously, one wonders if this notoriously egotistical spirit would have us believe her desirability draws such frank, hopeful declarations from every male of the species.

I don’t believe this for a minute. To be certain, I believe that this is exactly the first thing Barbra HEARS when men are introduced to her. “I’d like to f— you.” Those are the words that are processed through her brain, I’m pretty sure of that. But in fact, I have a feeling that, instead of “I’d like to f—— you,” what these men are REALLY saying are things like:

“I’d like to see you in a movie with Donald Duck.”

“Your cheap party has no valet. I need a place to park my truck.”

“I’d like to show you my script about a family named Fokker.”

“I’d like to be out of this hellhole in ten minutes, with any luck.”

But how exciting for Babs that she hears “I’d like to f—— you.” So affirming. We should all be so blessed.

In another leaked tidbit of the book, Babs declares that she was instrumental in securing Robert Redford for some movie role, but makes sure to tell us that she was unimpressed by one of his performances in an earlier flick. Redford, she declares, was only “passable.”

That Babs. Always thinking like Fellini or Bergman or Cukor from even her earliest, ditziest days. Of course, such a passive-aggressive diss of the great Robert Redford is there to underscore retroactively La Streisand’s majestic dominion as a Hollywood mogul from the start, to show us that she was always more than a mere singer (which she reportedly doesn’t even like to do—a fact that shows in her relative vocal soullessness.)

Yes, Babula was ready to rub elbows with the greatest directorial talents of all time, even in the early going. Thank heaven she was honing her gifts at such a young age, because I truly believe the world would not have been blessed with such culturally indelible glories like The Mirror Has Two Faces and Prince of Tides.

What a more impoverished globe we would be.

Anyhow, if the leaked tidbits are any indication, My Name is Barbra will be exactly what you’d expect to emanate from the Streisand brain. Adjust your expectations accordingly and do not be surprised if Babs reveals that the first words uttered from the mouth of James Brolin upon meeting her were, “I’d like to f——— you.”

[Jonathan is busy writing and illustrating and finishing a whole slew of projects in preparation for upcoming major releases. Don’t expect a helluva lot of bloggin’ to get done unless something really strikes his fancy. Be patient. Marvelous things are on the way.]

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