When I first read Jim McGreevey’s version of a tell-all, his memoir The Confession, I was struck not by its candor, but by its air of political circumspection. The man who, upon resigning as New Jersey’s governor in the face of a sex scandal proudly proclaimed “I am a gay American,” couldn’t do a warts-and-all autobio without at the same time touting his accomplishments (many of which read more like opportunism than principle).
It’s been nearly nine years since that fateful day when this tall working-class pol gave a new face to gay people, and more than six since the book, so seeing him again now in the documentary Fall to Grace, airing on HBO this Thursday with replays throughout April, comes as a shock. Gone is the swath of black hair with a touch of grey that made him look like Reed Richards from the Fantastic Four; in its place, a shaved, craggy skull. Gone also is all the pretense and savviness.
Since leaving politics, McGreevey has married his partner, Mark Anthony, converted from Catholicism to Episcopalian (attending seminary and becoming a priest in the process) and now acts as a spiritual advisor to women in prison. His to-hell-and-back journey is the focus of this 45-minute film. The director herself understands the political world — it’s Alexandra Pelosi, daughter of former Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi. I’m not sure that fact provides any unique insight into McGreevey’s past life, but her roots in San Francisco probably help her navigate through McGreevey’s coming out process intelligently.
“Coming out was a great gift,” McGreevey admits. “I’m gay! Big shit!” It may not seem like much, but it’s more than Ed Koch ever did.
Indeed, McGreevey seems to be in an alternative universe, the coulda-been of Koch, a generation older. McGreevey’s transformation seems sincere in a way his memoir did not, and it’s clear that in addition to his good works with female prisoners, his scandal probably helped advance the cause of gay rights and the potential of pols to be open about who they are.








HBO’s
Girls Soundtrack, Volume 1 (various artists): Robyn’s sad-but-liberating “Dancing on My Own” already made life infinitely better, but then HBO’s groundbreaking series Girls, which just returned for its second season, did something awesome with it last year: They had the show’s star/creator — Lena Dunham’s every-girl Hannah — shake out her boy blues to the tune. Awesome how? Any Robyn fan can relate to the dorkiness of shadowing the Swede’s moves in their bedroom.
The multiplexes’ loss is HBO’s gain. Steven Soderbergh — he of the Oscar for best director, he who turned a cheesy idea into Magic Mike, the Citizen Kane of male stripper movies — apparently doesn’t have the juice in Hollywood to make gay people seem commercial.
True Blood has always flirted with jumping the shark. How couldn’t it? A campy Southern Gothic horror comedy about redneck Louisiana vampires? Why, the summary alone sounds ludicrous, even if you’re a fan.

I received a press release today that said “Steven Soderbergh … and Jerry Weintraub … will bring the film Behind the Candelabra, starring Michael Douglas and Matt Damon… to HBO Films, it was announced today.” The thing is, I’m not quite sure how this is news.
The Pretty Things Peepshow
It’s going to be a super team-up tomorrow in Cowtown. Q Cinema partners with Samaritan House and the Lone Star Film Society to screen ‘And the Band Played On,’ the landmark HBO film that chronicled the early history of AIDS in the U.S. The screening is free and starts at 7 p.m. with a reception before at 6 p.m.