When I first watched this documentary in 2000, I seem to recollect that I was a bit snarky, a bit squirmy, a bit eye rolling ... okay, a lot judgmental. Raised a Catholic, I was vaguely aware of "The 700 Club", "PTL". hair-sprayed ministers, the unusual practice of congregations raising their hands during moments they found particularly inspiring and ... money. There seemed to be an incessant connection with the love of God for you out there in, sinner that you were, and how much money you could donate to religious structures of embarassing architectural awfulness. Additionally, no seemed to like homosexuals, working women and all horrified to the soles of their shoes at reproductive rights and choices.
And so, in 2000. Miss Tammy Faye's unique and particular make up, shoulder pads the width of football fields, caught up in a maelstorm of her husband's intimate preferences outside of marriage and ... money -- oh, my dear, how pitiful, how embarassing, what a spectacle, what a joke.
Twenty one years has changed my view of this insightful, respectful, life-affirming documenary, narrated with warmth by RuPaul. I now see a woman of vibrant faith -- her faith, the faith which worked for her and for which she in turn tirelessly worked -- and incredible courage. She put to shame the poseur suits who toppled the Bakker's enterprises, although I sense those enterprises did need a significant wake up call.
I chose to revisit this glimpse into the many journeys travails, choices and sacrifices of the woman I had unknowingly and unfairly maligned as I had to look through Tammy Faye's eyes and into my own. Damn, she had guts! Sing long, lady, in the choir celestial!