“True debauchery is liberating because it creates no obligations.
If you possess only yourself; hence it remains the favorite pastime of
the great lovers of their own person.” --- Albert Camus
MAYBE HE’LL GET RIGHT THE THIRD TIME…IN 2014 Opening at number one is Head of State starring Chris Rock. Now, a second chance is a rare thing in life, much less show business, and with this exception, Chris Rock has done more to piss away his second chance than anyone outside of John Travolta. We all remember Chris Rock’s brief flirtation with becoming America’s new funny young Black guy, don’t we? And how he pissed it way with CB4? Now, a decade later, he comes back smarter and funnier---and goes right back into making career destroying movies. Not good in a universe where David Chapelle exists and America is already paying money to see Martin Lawrence talk about White people. Even though this opened at number one, I feel the bulk of that credit belongs to Bernie Mac. After all, he’s funny on TV on a weekly basis, building an audience. Chris Rock owes this man big time. And will someone please tell me why the fuck Chris Rock thinks we want to see him soft and cuddly rather than hard and funny? His comeback was based purely on being hard and funny, but in every movie he turns into some pussy who wants to help people. And maybe it’s funnier in the film than the commercials (not that it would be hard to do), but considering he wrote and directed it, how sad is it that he considers jive-talking old, white people still a viable joke? I’m sorry, but it begins and ends with Barbara “Mrs. Cleaver” Billingsley jive talking in Airplane. The joke officially gets retired after that since there’s no way to make it funnier. NEVER UNDER ESTIMATE THE OVERUSE OF A BAD JOKE Also milking the 20 year old joke that is jive-talking white people is Bringing Down The House, finally out of the top spot this week and down to number two. Latifah will have to settle for just making buckets of money instead of winning the Oscar (she’s one of the exec producers). IS IT CARAMEL, CHOCOLATE OR NOUGAT? Opening at number three is the dumb fun that is The Core. Sorry, but I enjoyed the hell out of this predictable “we must save the earth” disaster movie. Considering I hated Armageddon with a white-hot passion only matched by my hatred of myself and the lead singer for The Counting Crows (goddamn, I HATE that muthafucka!), this is saying a lot. First of all Journey To the Center of the Earth, starring Doug McClure and Peter Cushing, is one of my favorite bad movies, so this automatically puts me in a favorable state of mind, even though the only thing they have in common is…well, journeying to the center of the earth. Second, Aaron Eckhart is rapidly becoming my second favorite man crush (behind Taye Diggs, whom we’ll discuss soon), with his continuing portrayals of the best-looking college professor since Indiana Jones. He did the sexy, disheveled intellectual thing in Possession and he does it again here as the man who discovers all the weird natural occurrences are actually a sign that the world is ending. Joining him is the all-star, not B-list cast, but more A- or B+ list cast of Hilary Swank, Bruce Greenwood, Stanley Tucci, Delroy Lindo, and DJ Qualls. Yes, DJ Qualls. Now if you’ve ever seen even one disaster movie, you know some of your stars aren’t going to see the end credits and if you’ve seen enough of them, you know exactly who. This movie makes it almost too easy. You’ve got one character who’s a selfish egomaniac, another who wonders if he can make a self-sacrifice if need be, another who gives a fatherly lesson on making a hard decision when the time comes and another who’s Black. Do I really need to tell you what happens to these people? In fact, if there’s one thing that takes away from the fun, it’s how gruesome and some graphic their deaths are. I know it’s heroic that this person is giving their lives, but do I really need to see the very last second of it when they’re either being crushed or cooked? No, I don’t. BASICALLY STUPID Opening at number four is Basic, a movie so dumb it re-teams John Travolta and Samuel L. Jackson---then fails to put them together onscreen! What is the point!?! Instead, the man Travolta spends the most time with is…Timothy Daly? Supposedly a taut murder mystery, Basic is by far one of the dumbest serious movies I’ve seen in a long time. Attempting a Roshamon type of feel (we get the same story from different viewpoints, already done better with the military in A Soldier’s Story) we get the story of how only three soldiers came back when seven went out on a training maneuver in the middle of a thunderstorm in Panama. Supporting Travolta is a solid cast (Timothy Daly notwithstanding) of Taye Diggs, Connie Nielsen (despite her attempt at a Southern accent), new Latina hottie, Roselyn Sanchez, and yes, Harry Connick Jr. Giovanni Ribisi is also in this, but he just gives Ed Harris a run for his money as the most overplayed gay guy in recent memory. Not to mention the total improbability either Giovanni Ribisi---or a flaming queen who looks like Giovanni Ribisi---surviving even one day of Army Ranger training. Helming this is the ultimate hit-or-miss director, John McTiernan, who, on a good day, can give you The Hunt For Red October, The Thomas Crown Affair and Die Hard (and hey, I’m even a fan of The 13th Warrior), but on a bad day can give you, Die Hard 3, Rollerball, The Last Action Hero and Medicine Man. Add this to his list of misses. But given the incredibly jagged cut that takes us from the last scene to “..directed by John McTiernan” I wonder if he’s even seen this thing since they finished shooting. No matter. Even before then the script was a piece of crap. The ultimate plot twist totally hinges on someone not knowing if one character is Black or White. Because, it’s not like an Army file would give you that tiny piece of information. It’s a shame too, because Travolta is at his best when he’s playing a flawed good guy. He overplays bad, and good just gets boring, but as a loose cannon DEA agent who may or may not be corrupt, he actually shines. NOT TO MENTION THE EVIL THAT IS THE ENGLISH PATIENT Chicago is back up to number five after winning almost all the Oscars that I said it would (but we’ll discuss that later). And who the fuck only decides to see a movie once it’s gotten a Best Picture Oscar? Every thing else aside, do you know how much crap that exposes you to? You see Dances With Wolves instead of Goodfellas. You see Forrest Gump instead of Pulp Fiction. You actually have to see Titanic, period! BECAUSE ONE FOR ALL AND ALL FORONE WOULD SIMPLY BE A LIE Dreamcatcher is down to number six and the only reason this even made a dime was the use of the animated Matrix short in front of it. How fucking sad is that? Why not just offer ticket prices at a discount when you lack that kind of faith in your film? Needless to say, I didn’t see it. First, I don’t like the scary. Second, Stephen King sucks. So it’s scary and it sucks and it takes your money. Kind of like a transvestite hooker with bad teeth. The most I cared to learn about this was that it’s about an alien invasion---and the aliens lay eggs in your stomach and use your colon as a birth canal. Lovely. Laurence Kasdan directed this and helped write the screenplay…along with William fucking Goldman. Man, how the mighty have fallen. For those of you not in the know, William Goldman has maintained a reputation as one of the best screenwriters in Hollywood for almost 40 years now, but he’s been riding on fumes forever. Yes, he did Butch Cassidy & The Sundance Kid and All the President’s men, but he also did The General’s Daughter, Memoirs of an Invisible Man and Hearts in Atlantis. In other words, he’s kind of like the Francis Ford Coppola of writers in that he did amazing things on a couple of occasions back in the 60’s and 70’s and has been coasting on it ever since. Now, he’s best for writing criticism, my favorite being his evisceration of Saving Private Ryan in the pages of Premiere magazine a few years ago. In other words, those who can’t do, point that same flaw out in others. Which is, coincidentally, my family motto. OH, BOTHER. Agent Cody Banks is down to number seven, followed by Piglet’s Big Movie at number eight and through no fault of our own, my sisters and I have come to be nicknamed at various points of our lives for three of the Winnie The Pooh characters. Like any kid, at one point in my life, my two front teeth were the largst things on my body (before they both fell out, of course), so for a brief period I was “Rabbit” long before I actually assumed Rabbit’s cranky, anal-retentive, controlling persona. My first sister was a little round thing, so we nicknamed her Winnie The Pooh at birth. To this day, no one who shares our DNA calls her anything but---much to her chagrin. Her friends are always shocked to hear us call her “Pooh,” because she only tells them her real name. My baby sister went off to college where her constant energy annoyed the hell out of her roommate, who then anointed her “Tigger” which she gladly accepted. There are no Christopher Robins in my immediate family. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a pretty little gay boy, but my parents stopped at three. Had I younger brother, it would most likely have been him. Then I’d be forced to march in that damn parade every year. But I’d be up on all the dance music, so it would balance itself out. COFFEE, TEA OR 90MINUTES OF YOUR LIFE GONE FOREVER View From The Top drops to number eight and it has one of the most misleading ad campaigns around . If you think you’re going to get some sort of satire on the airlines, think again. This is almost a fucking recruiting ad. Worse still, it’s a Lifetime TV movie about “following your dreams, but not forgetting your heart” that should have starred Teri Polo and Josh Brolin. Only Mike Meyers (whose schtick I’ve learned to hate) seemed to understand how over-the-top this should have been played. Gwyneth Paltrow must have signed some sort of deal with Harvey Weinstein that obligated her to doing whatever he wanted if she got the Oscar. She did and look at her now (rumor has it, she hated doing this movie so much, she called it “A View From My Ass”). There’s also a very misplaced anachronistic feel to it. Maybe being a flight attendant was a glamour job in the 50’s and 60’s, but the stories I hear from my sister-in-law tell me it’s anything but that. Even the outfits she wears as a flight attendant scream “Pan-Am ‘63” but no one wears a little pillbox hat anymore. And what’s the point of putting her in a lot of white trash clothing in a sincere manner? Either we’re laughing at her bad taste in clothing or not. Make up your mind. No stranger to a white trash wardrobe is her co-star, Christina Applegate, who is apparently building a career supporting America’s favorite tall, thin blondes in bad movies, as this is her second in just a year’s time. And she should really, really reconsider this brown hair thing. It’s very dull and she’s just not pretty enough to pull it off. Also, what happened to her hips and ass? I watched Married With Children devotedly, so I know she had them at some point. Now, all that remains is a very impressive washboard stomach---but at what cost? At what cost!?! YET ANOTHER REASON THE AUTEUR THEORY IS WRONG Finally, The Hunted closes out the top ten at number ten and happens to be the second Connie Nielsen film on this list and at this rate she won’t be back for a looooonnnnng time. Granted, she is a foreigner and English is her second language, but I can’t imagine these movies sound good in any language. I blame her middle-aged boyfriend, Ridley Scott, who, true to directing form, started banging the half-his-age Nielsen during the filming of Gladiator and killed her love scene with Russell Crowe, because he knew once she saw a pair of balls under the age of 50 again, their relationship would be over. I’m sure for Ridley Scott it ended with knowing William Freidkin would be directing this was enough reason for him to encourage her to do it (just as knowing John McTiernan would be directing Basic was enough for him there). AND THE WINNER IS…ALCOHOL! Okay, so apparently I was drunk during the day again, because I can think of no other circumstances that would have resulted in my agreeing to go to Astoria, Queens to watch the Oscars. Hell, I wouldn’t go there for good Greek food, which the only reason I believe it exists. In any case, being unfortunately a man of my word (and unable to think of any really good weaseling out stories) I went. My friend wanted margaritas and I was hopeful that would kill some of the pain of being separated from Manhattan. And it’s not just the ride that drains your soul, but the waiting on the train, not to mention the dregs of humanity upon it. In any case, my friend helped ease my suffering by pouring me a glass of some nice Riesling the moment I walked through the door (yes, we still had margaritas later). As King of the Geeks, I brought her son a paperback of collected Spider-man comics to help seed the next generation and teach him that sports are for morons. Smart people isolate themselves socially and live in a fantasyland filled with colorful costumes and fantastic beings (superheroes, hobbits, Klingons, etc.). But back to the Oscars. On two televisions was the sad, sad spectacle of Joan Rivers and her mini-me daughter, Melissa, desperately looking for celebs on the non-red, red carpet. In other words, celebrities would still dress up, they just wouldn’t talk to reporters about it. What. The. Fuck. How is wearing a thousand-dollar dress and not talking about it, somehow how respectful of the war effort? You’re still wasting enough money to feed all the refugees being created. Some please tell these genetically blessed high school dropouts that they don’t really matter. Steve Martin was a decent enough host. Better than Whoopi (though even blank stage is capable of that), but when you consider he had a full year to get ready, not so impressive. Yeah, I know the war killed a lot of topical material, but that still brings us back to a year’s worth of non-topical material he could have done…is there anything sadder than Sharon Stone doing AOL commercials? Was this once the hottest woman in Hollywood?…Spirited Away wins Best Animated Feature, not that anyone will ever give up watching Shrek to see it…Keanu Reeves comes out looking good in his tux, thus killing for all time the argument that brains are better than looks…I knew Chris Cooper would win Best Supporting Actor…JLo shows up in something Jackie O wore thirty years ago (she called Valentino in Italy to commission a new one), but with orange skin. And didn’t you just love it when her Bronx accent dropped in for a visit at that exact moment. As we say in the south, “you can’t get above your raisin’”…Okay, now whose breasts are bigger, Queen Latifah or the eight months pregnant Catherine Zeta Jones?…poor Jennifer Garner, forced to talk to empty space while someone sticks Mickey Mouse in through the computer. That’s how you know you’re not really a star…Mira Sorvino, back from exile in Paris (did you notice or even care she was gone?), but still living proof that even when you’re tall and blonde, Best Supporting Actress is a curse…when you look at old ass Paul Simon, remember that his wife is Edie Brickell and she’s my age…only Sean Connery could get away with announcing a winner by just her first name. The accent helps. Now, that she’s gotten her Oscar, do we restart the divorce countdown for her and Michael Douglas? Or will she stick around for Best Actress? Or at least until Kirk dies?…I loved the joke about always making a pretty young actress host the Oscar Geek Awards every year. In the worlds of Homer Simpson, “It’s funny because it’s true.”…Julianne Moore is wearing an ugly dress and there’s no way around that…how weird is it for the actor who to jerked off to Salma Hayek in his movie, to not only meet her, but introduce the song from her movie? But given how she so obviously likes herself, she probably takes it as a compliment…I’m to the left and a liberal, but I hate my fellow liberals with a passion. I was against the war until I saw my first bunch middle class, dreadlocked White kids protesting it. And when I saw people who thought running around nude was an intelligent way to protest, well then I couldn’t wait for the bombs to drop. Needless to say, seeing Michael Moore make an ass out of himself made wonder why the nuclear option hadn’t been explored. By the way, he gave that same “fictional times” speech at the Independent Film Awards the previous night…what is it with Julia Roberts and that vein in her temple? Now that she’s getting older, I hope the rest of you can see what I’ve always seen: SHE’S NOT PRETTY!…why the hell is Colin Farrell announcing anyone at all. Yeah, I know it’s U2 and he’s Irish, but he’s still yet to prove he’s more than just hype…sigh, even Geena Davis is starting to show her age…I knew Adrian Brody would win. All the other have already won and it’s a holocaust movie. You can’t beat that combo. Now, the kiss I didn’t see coming, but big props go out to the boy from Queens for doing what every straight man and gay woman wanted to do: show that punk-ass husband of hers up. Now, his speech about the war was nice and I put my nuclear arms away…EMINEM!?! Now that’s a shocker. Too bad he wasn’t there to pick it up, though I did dig the guy in the Pistons jersey. But his street cred remains intact. He didn’t do the awards, didn’t ask for the awards, slept through the awards and still won. Somewhere, Madonna is very upset…Peter O’Toole is a god and should have won for My Favorite Year…the only person surpassing Catherine Zeta-Jones for her naked ambition is Nicole Kidman and tonight she gets hers too. Damn. I was really pulling for Renee Zellweger. Notice how she drags Russell Crow into her speech. The woman is shameless. Why didn’t she just give Tom Cruise the finger from the podium? I mean, that’s what it’s all about at this point, right? Especially for an Oscar-begger like Cruise. On a related note, fellow Oscar-begger Jim Carrey was thrilled for a second year to see Renee denied…what’s in these sequences with former winners, especially when those winners have one foot in the grave. It’s just sad. Hell, I didn’t think Olivia de Halvilland was going to make it…isn’t it funny that the only two real original screenplays were foreign language films? Everything else was actually an adaptation of some sort (Far From Heaven was a remake, Gangs of New York was a non-fiction book, and My Big Fat Greek Wedding started off as turd in someone’s toilet)…I’m glad Scorcese didn’t win. He should win for something great or not at all. You don’t want to be Paul Newman or Al Pacino and get your award for crap. Yeah, Polanksi couldn’t be there because 26 years ago he gave drugs and booze to a 13-year-old, fucked her and couldn’t be bothered to do 90 lousy days for it. NINETY DAYS!?! Only in LA is that punishment for fucking a 13-year-old. The Catholic Church would give its left nut to only have its priests do 90 days for the shit they’ve done, but not Roman Polanski. Oh, no. That’s too much for him…And Chicago wins. Just like I said it would. DESSERT IS MY JOKER, CHIPS ARE MY RIDDLER… So I got a two-week free membership to Gold’s Gym in the mail. I actually went in and signed up for it (unlike the two week free pass to New York Sports Club, that I managed to forget about), but I’m still taking bets on whether or not I actually go back. See, I’ve been getting fat and losing what little chest I had thanks to a four month sabbatical from actual exercise, so I have to do something, but just taking the tour reminded me of what drudgery it is to go to the gym. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. But at this rate I won’t be able to see my dick by May, so I’ve got to do something, ‘cause I ain’t giving up cheese. Cheese is the Catwoman to my Batman. She’s bad for me, but I cannot resist her. Monterey, Cheddar, Swiss…all so purrrrrfect. A HUNKA, HUNKA BURNING ISSUES…
So Lisa Marie Presley has that song that sound like any Lite FM that
Sheryl Crow might do (thanks for nothing, Glen Ballard)…except for the
creepy lyrics: “Someone turned the lights out there in Memphis/ That's
where my family's buried and gone/ Last time I was there I noticed a space
left/ Next to them in Memphis in the damn back lawn.” In reality,
there is a space for her in Graceland next to her father and her grandparents.
Damn. He made sure his daughter was fucked up, did he not? And I hope
we all read the Rolling Stone interview where she more than a little honest
about Michael Jackson (who apparently only uses that high voice in public),
her drug use and Nicholas Cage. Now I just have to watch that Diane Sawyer
interview.
ANOTHER MYTH BITES THE DUST
How old am I? Not only did the constant parade of drunken, half-naked
college students on MTV all this weekend annoy the shit out of me, but
when Missy Elliot actually brought that little Asian girl and Big-Eyed
White girl from her “Gossip Folks” video (who worked it so, so hard) they
barely showed them because some horny, middle-aged asshole in the control
booth wanted to see skinny, flat-assed girls in bikinis! The best part
are those kids! And how embarrassed are the parents of the little black
girl from the video? They probably get mocked in the streets. “Hey,
I saw your daughter get out-danced by a little White girl and even a little
Asian girl. What next? Is her ass flat too?”
WAIT A MINUTE MR. POSTMAN! The most beautiful stamps in the world are now available. Yes, even more beautiful than the Superman stamp they released a few years ago. Cary Grant stamps. On one hand, it’s a crime to use them, but on the other hand it’s a crime not to spread his greatness at every given opportunity. So, yes, I have shared him with ConEd and even those bastards at Musician’s Friend who tricked me into buying a bass. Next, I’ll share him with Time Magazine and Time Out Magazine, as subscription dues are now in. Too bad I don’t still write letters to people so I could share him even more. Cary Grant is God. 3/17//03
3/24/03
“You must have been warned against letting the golden hours slip by. Yes, but some of them are golden only because we let them slip.” --- J.M. Barrie
I’LL SUCK YOUR DICK FOR A LAUGH!
Still holding at number one is Bringing Down the House, so look for yet another series of “Stiff-White-person-meets-hip-criminal-Black-person” movies, only with some gender modifications. The saddest thing about this is Queen Latifah insists that this is an improvement over the original, even more offensive script. I can only imagine her character was initially a single crackhead mom, and we know all the humor in that.
EL ZIT!
Agent Cody Banks, a.k.a., Spy Kids 2 1/2 opens at number two and while Frankie Muniz seems to be growing up well, it looks like he’s wearing a pound and a half of make-up so I can I only imagine an acne problem to rival America’s other most popular unacknowledged Hispanic: Cameron Diaz. And Angie Harmon begins her long journey to obscurity after Law & Order. Unless you’re a kid or a voice in a Disney film, kid’s films are where careers go to die, not begin. And because I’m so old, I had no idea who the hell Hilary Duff was, only why they couldn’t find a more attractive teenage girl to play opposite him. I now know she’s the star of her own TV show. Sadly, this doesn’t make her any better looking and seeing Angie Harmon on the set everyday in tight red leather couldn’t have been good for her teen-girl ego.
RAMBO REDUX
The Hunted opens at number three and is it time to be remaking First Blood already? Let’s see: a army super soldier being hunted in the pacific northwest, while his former commander tries to save him. Yeah, that’s the first Rambo movie all right. Tommy Lee Jones even has a variation of the great “If you’re going to send that many you might want to remember one thing…a good supply of body bags.” line. Someone should really tell Benicio Del Toro that he is not, has never been, nor will he ever be a leading man. He got where he is through supporting character actor roles and should just stick to them. I swear, Christopher Walken should give a fucking course. And Tommy Lee Jones should attend. Like Benicio, he got his Oscar supporting someone else and should be doing more of that. Whatever Chris Cooper says “no” to, these guys should snap up. Would William Friedkin even be allowed to continue making films with big stars and big budgets if his wife weren’t Sherry Lansing? This man coasts more on his 70’s success than even Coppola. If you search the internet there’s an ex-porn start who talks about her days in Hollywood where she was an unabashed star-fucker. Not that he’s a star, but William Friedkin was one of her conquests (after he married Sherry Lansing) and apparently he’s a bit of a freak with a small penis. Gee, that’s a big surprise for a director.
“DON’T LET THE SUN GO DOWN ON ME…”
Tears of the Sun is down to number four and this cannot be good. It cost $75M and they spent $20M pushing it. This means it’s only paid for the advertising budget or Bruce Willis’s salary, but not both. Overseas box office is so crucial for this film now, it hurts.
IT’S OKAY, BECAUSE HAPPY PEOPLE MAKE CRAPPY ART
Chicago is down to number five and Bebe Neuwirth is dripping with bitterness over its success. Recently she was at restaurant where Renee Zellweger was eating and the matrie’d said, “It’s Chicago day.” “That’s not Chicago,” she grumbled. “It’s a movie.” Baby, if you’re bitter now, then March 23rd is going to be hell on your liver, because only booze will take away the pain of Catherine Zeta Jones winning Best Supporting Actress in the role you did on Broadway. And when it wins Best Picture? You might want to fire up that doobie.
SMALL CONSOLATION
Old School finally drops down to number six, followed by How To Lose A Guy In Ten Days (the potential $100M film in which Bebe Neuwirth actually appears).
“BEN, THE TWO OF US NEED LOOK NO MORE…”
Opening at number seven is Willard, a remake of the film which begat a sequel called Ben, which is what spawned the song of the same name by Michael Jackson. That’s pretty much the most memorable part about the original Willard. Well, that and the sight of Ernest Borgnine being devoured by rats. But if there were ever a role Crispin Glover was born to play, it’s Willard. He’s always been a creepy bastard in everything (Back To The Future was no exception), and there are very few creepier than the rat-loving Willard. When they needlessly remade Psycho, this is the freak they should have called. Now the big question is, why remake Willard at all? And if you were going to do so, at least put some spin on it. Make it super gory or go sensitive indie and make it about a lonely, lonely guy with some weird pets, but the same thing over again? I mean, it was hardly a classic horror film. When I think of killer rats, I think of those giant fuckers from Food of the Gods. Now that was scary. Then again I was ten. Nope, still scary.
I STILL SAY HE’S DRUNK!
Daredevil is down to number eight and I can barely conceal my geek-glee at the fact this hasn’t broken $100M yet. And while Maid In Manhattan didn’t break $100M either, JLo at least has her (cough, cough) “music career” to keep her popular (not to mention being a fashion plate with an amazing ass). Ben Affleck, however, has none of these things. He needed to prove he could carry a movie on his own (Jack Ryan was already a successful franchise) and this didn’t do it. Heh-heh-heh.
NO SMALL ROLES, ONLY SMALL ACTORS
Finally, Cradle 2 the Grave closes out the top ten at number and making the most of a small role as a prison boss is Chi McBride, best known now for being a caring principal on Boston Public. Hearing him talking about killing people and runnin’ ho’s is fun in itself.
SO WHAT IF DAVID BOWIE WAS AT MY 5TH BIRTHDAY PARTY, I WANTED A MOM!
Not breaking the top ten is Laurel Canyon, the long awaited (by me at least) follow-up film by writer director Lisa Chodolenko to her first feature, High Art. It’s the story of an uptight first year resident (Christian Bale) and his fiancée (Kate Beckinsale) who wind up unexpectedly staying with his rock producer mom (Frances McDormand) while she completes an album with her half-her-age lover (Allessandro Nivola) and his band. Needless to say, her lifestyle slowly begins to affect his, as his fiancée winds up spending her days smoking dope and watching the album being made. If only all “character driven” pieces realized we actually need some sort of conflict to happen. Just “first year resident” or “music producer” isn’t enough for a film. Making them relatives and putting them in conflict with one another is much better---but sadly, not enough here. Now, any movie that begins with Christian Bale going down on Kate Beckinsale gets high marks in my book, but ultimately Chodolenko doesn’t do much beyond the obvious with her characters (do I have to tell you that while Kate Beckinsale is tempted by the rock life, Christian Bale is simultaneously tempted at work?). If she was going to be that conventional, we could have used a little more convention in exploration of Christian Bale’s father, who is never, ever mentioned, but was obviously once part of the rock lifestyle that his mother still lives. Also, though he hates his mother’s life now, I find it hard to believe that any teenager wouldn’t enjoy some of the privileges of being a rock producer’s kid. Considering she had five years to work on this script, it should have been something better (the line “This isn’t what it looks like,” actually comes out of someone’s mouth when caught in semi-compromising position, as if this were Three’s Company). The performances, however, are all good. The always great Frances McDormand plays sort of an evil twin sister to her rock-hating, drug-fearing mom in Almost Famous, while Brits Christian Bale and Kate Beckinsale play Americans and Allessandro Nivola plays a Brit. Now, I hate the very sight of Nivola (he looks like the arrogant prick one of your friends starts dating that you now have to tolerate), so that I managed to enjoy him here, tells you how much the film does succeed in some instances.
HARDER THAN IT LOOKS
Now David Letterman has been out for the past two weeks, which means I’ve all but ignored his show for the last two weeks. Unusual guest hosts are intriguing at first, but their lack of skill quickly gives way to pure boredom. It’s a very difficult job and you don’t realize that until you see someone who can’t do it. Even the white-hot fear on Bruce Willis when he tried could only hold my attention for seconds. John McEnroe got even less time. Vince Vaughn proved he wasn’t just acting with that quick-talking character he did in Swingers on his night. While this was initially a welcome change from the verbally constipated actors who just die without scripts, it also gave way to annoyance when he was interviewing Geri Halliwell, a.k.a., Ginger Spice. Being a vet of the British press corps (imagine if every magazine was as sleazy as The National Enquirer), she was game for anything, but you could tell he was annoying her with what he mistakenly assumed was charm. I was surprised to see Elvis Costello and had high hopes after his reworking of “Allison” (“Letterman” fit nicely), but even though he is a quick witted and engaging man, his nervousness was annoying and his guests left a little to be desired (Kim Cattrall and Eddie Izzard). It would have been so much better if he’d had all musicians to talk to or simply just played for an hour. Will Ferrell was better, showing there’s reason comedians are your best talk show hosts. They know how to improv or roll with a joke or make someone who isn’t funny, funny. Even so, I abandoned him two seconds after Chris Rock showed up to talk about how he was destroying his own career with bad movies. Megan Muhally was decent, but simply not interesting enough to keep me watching. Apparently this will continue yet another week as well. Damn, don’t we have cure for anything?
I SAY, MY GOOD CHAP, WE COME IN PEACE.
So the DVD collection is now up to 253 (not counting the porn) thanks to the addition of one of my all-time favorite science fiction movies: The Day The Earth Stood Still. It’s as dated as hell in some ways, not to mention naive (a spaceship land in Washington DC in the middle of the Cold War 50’s and only two soldiers are assigned to guard it?), but it still holds up (and the black & white photography looks beautiful). Michael Rennie was so good I think it was he more than anyone who established that all aliens have to be English.
BUT “TEMPTED” IS SUCH A GODDAMN GREAT SONG!
Speaking of Elvis Costello, I’m watching the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame inductions and I realize one of the problems I’ve always had with him, ironically (note that I’m aware of the irony before you fucking people star bombarding me with your fucking emails), is his unrelenting bitterness. Even his love songs are bitter. And only Elvis Costello would perform without performing his most famous song, “Allison.” On the other hand, if the UN outlawed “Every Breath You Take” tomorrow and I never heard it again, I could die a happy man, so I really didn’t need to hear The Police do that. And even in the scenes where The Police were supposed to be joking around, you could still feel the tension between Stuart Copeland and Sting. There was supposed to be a Clash tribute, but something went wrong and it was called off last minute. Just as well. Nothing could top the Grammy performance of “London Calling.” My god, Mick Jones just looks like an old Englishman. I realize now that, as the inductions go on, the legends are running thin. I love Elvis and The Police, but they were hardly innovators of anything. They did what they did well, but there was nothing revolutionary about it. In fact, The Clash may be the last semi-radical (they wrote songs too well to be truly punk radical), groundbreaking band ever inducted. From now on, it’s just going to guys who reinvented the wheel, so to speak. Now that they’re inducting bands from the late 70’s, you have to realize the 80’s are next and who’s there that actually changed things or really influenced music so much, that even sound-alikes were successful? Sorry, but when I think New Wave, I don’t think “great band.” Since Prince’s first album came out in 1978, he’s eligible this year (though rock & roll is actually a sub-category of R&B, not the other way around), but even he is just a child of James Brown and George Clinton (not to mention Joni Mitchell). Who else is there? Yeah, U2 is a given, but do I want to live in a world where fucking Depeche Mode is in the rock and roll hall of fame!?! And I actually like Depeche Mode. New Order, maybe, but not them. And do I have remind you of who is still probably the biggest solo artist to come out of the 80’s, whose musical children dominate today’s airwaves? Don’t worry; Like A Virgin didn’t get released until 1984, so Madonna won’t be eligible until 2009. And what the fuck do you mean Nick Lowe isn’t in the Hall of Fame!?! Next you’re going to tell me Squeeze isn’t in there either. What!?!
3/10/03
TRUTH BE TOLD, HER RAP CAREER KINDA SUCKED
Opening at number one is Bringing Down the House, yet another comedy about an uncultured Black person who helps an uptight White person. Hah-hah-hah. Yawn. And just when you thought it was dead too (killed by the man who benefited most from it, Eddie Murphy). Granted, Eugene Levy kills me in the commercials when he says, “You got me straight trippin’, boo,” but you’re not getting my money for one supporting character. In fact, Eugene Levy is making a career of being the bright spot of hopelessly mediocre films (American Pie 1&2, Serendipity, etc), but he’s still not enough. Now Steve Martin is undoubtedly the most grateful man in America for this, as he hasn’t had a hit in forever, but it was still so sad seeing an interview with him where he tried to sell this as some sort of “racial healing” movie. Translation: “America, I’ll suck your dick for a hit. I’m more than just some guy who dated Anne Heche.” For Queen Latifah, this is confirmation for her success, as people are obviously here to see her. Not to mention she’s one of the executive producers, so she’s gettin’ paid for this one.
WITH BRUCE WILLIS AS GRUMPY! SNOW WHITE II: TEARS OF THE SUN
Opening at number two is Tears of the Sun, yet another movie where a tough guy discovers his heart and uses it to help the little brown people who would otherwise have no hope. The only cliché missing from this movie is…well, actually, there are now clichés missing from this movie. They’re all here. The team of seven men only distinguishable by their nicknames (Red, Zee, Doc, Dopey, Sleepy, Sneezey…only those last three aren’t in this movie), at least half of which are meant to die, with at least one doing so with a speech in Bruce Willis’s arms; the Black soldier who makes a special speech about what it means to him to save other Black people, those Black people who do everything but kiss the feet of their saviors, the woman in peril whose only job is, well, to be in peril (and to never button up her shirt, showing just enough cleavage); and the final battle against overwhelming odds. Nope they don’t miss a one and by the end you find yourself hoping they will, not simply because you’re bored, but because it’ll make the movie end quicker if they do. The most annoying part of the film were the commentaries from others as I was leaving. I know it sucked, film geek. I don’t need to hear you and your sexless friends incorrectly discussing how much it sucked.
THE ONE SCENE SHE’LL LEAVE OUT OF HER CAREER RETROSPECTIVE THIRTY YEARS FROM NOW
Old School is down only one notch to number three and this is holding on quite well, thus guaranteeing the future of dumb, slob comedies, which allow young actresses to play their rent by showing their breasts but still remaining legit. God bless America!
YOU’RE ONLY WRONG IF YOU DISAGREE WITH ME
Chicago is also down only one notch to number four and cleaned up at the Screen Actors Guild Awards last night. Don’t worry. I’m used to being right all the time. It’s a burden I’ve been force to bear since I was a kid.
IF THIS WHERE THE 70’S I’D SAY IT ALL WENT TO COKE
How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days is down to number five and it’s time to talk numbers, people. This piece of fluff cost $50M---and that’s not counting prints and advertising, but then again, product placement probably offset those. According to our basic rule of thumb, this has to make at least $150M to be truly considered profitable. Now, $87M normally would not be bad for such a little piece of fluff, but the unnecessarily high cost is going to require some good overseas change to pull it over the finish line. Why the fuck did it have to cost so much? Neither Kate Hudson nor Matthew McConaughey are big enough stars to demand too much money, so where did it all go? Did his hair treatments get added to the budget? Is that it?
“X GOIN’ TO THE ORTHODONIST/GOIN’ TO THE ORTHODONIST…”
Cradle 2 The Grave drops a tremendous amount to number six and there’s a useless plot development that requires Gabrielle Union to do a striptease. Now normally, that would be a good thing, but since nudity has disappeared from movies all we get is bad dancing, obvious use of a body double and some ugly, ugly underwear (and what kind of real gangsta hoochie wears granny panties instead of a thong?). And given that DMX is making some money now, why doesn’t he see a good dentist and dermatologist? My god, some of those zits should have been given billing. But I love that cut “X Gon’ Give It To Ya.”
ONLY IF A BLIND GUY DOES THE BOOKS IS THIS A SUCCESS
Daredevil is down to number seven and I am so happy this is actually beginning to tank! After four weeks it has yet to break $100M and that ain’t good. They can plan to make sequels and spin-offs all they want, but once the dust settles, no one is going to risk $80-100M for a return of the exact same amount. Even an English major like myself knows that’s bad business. Jennifer Garner, your summer just opened up.
ETC.
The Jungle Book drops to number eight, Shanghai Knights to number nine and The Life of David Gale closes out the top ten at number ten.
DID I SAY YOU WERE ALL A BUNCH OF CHEAP BASTARDS? WELL YOU ARE.
Now that the new issue of CMJ New Music Monthly is out, I can show you cheap bastards what you’ve been missing:
I used to think Ralph Fiennes was a good actor until I realized he was a miserable bastard in real life, so all his great portrayals of miserable bastards weren’t really acting at all. In fact, he’ll probably go down in history as the actor who smiled the least in all his films (not that he’s got a smile that people need to see, thank you English dentistry). “Hey, Ralph. We’ve got this miserable bastard who falls in love then gets burned beyond recognition. You want it? “Sure.” “Hey, Ralph. We’ve got an adaptation of a relentlessly Catholic novel about a man who falls in love with a woman he can never have. You want it.?” “Yeah.” “Hey, Ralph, I’ve also got a movie where you play three generations of persecuted Jews and another where you play a serial killer. Whaddaya say?” The latest addition to that grim list is Spider, directed by the weird, but rarely boring, David Cronenberg. Unfortunately, this is one of those rare times. The story of a man who is released from an English mental institution after 30 years, if you don’t know everything that’s going to happen, you need to get out more…just not to see this. It’s like the last ten minutes of The Butcher Boy dragged out to two hours. Also starring is Miranda Richardson. Whatever happened to her? For one brief moment, she was the hot thing. Then, nothing. Sad, really. But she does turn up in The Hours as Virginia Woolf’s sister…A two-hour foreign film in Portuguese set in the worst slum on the face of the planet? Normally, I’d run screaming, but Cidade de Deus (City of God) is so great I almost wish it were longer. Based on a fact-based novel, it tells the story of two young men growing up in the ironically named City of God, a slum so horrible even the cops are afraid to venture into it. But rather than the bleak, existential film you’d get if the film were say, French, you actually get a vibrant, stylized, coming-of-age story filled with humor and life, even though it chronicles two bloody decades in a place where very few grow old (if watching children die at the hands of other children is too much for you, stay home). It helps that we have two contrasting protagonists. One fully embraces the criminal lifestyle, committing mass murder before puberty, while the other lives cautiously on the periphery, friendly to all, threatening to none. Ironically, it’s his chronicling the violence around him with his camera that brings him professional success that will allow him to actually escape it all. Stay for the closing credits to see the real-life characters show in the film along with actual footage.
Okay, now go buy the new issue, you cheap muthafuckas. Ben Harper is on the cover
STAR BOOBIES, A.K.A, ANOTHER AWARDS SHOW
Ooh, it’s the Screen Actors Breasts Awards…the opening is clever, but the best part is Halle Berry’s breasts struggling to free themselves…big as a house Catherine Zeta-Jones wins and the Chicago machine rolls on…more breasts from Diane Lane really nice in that plunging neckline…the camera not only fails to show Chris Cooper, but he loses as well. Stupid actors and their stupid show…What the fuck is Debra Messing wearing? I love any chance to see her tiny breasts, but what the fuck is she wearing!?! Sigh. At least her hair is curly…Edie Falco keeps winning. Too bad I don’t watch the show enough to know if she deserves it…Courtney B. Vance and Angela Bassett. Oh, no. They’re not gay…oh, cruel irony. James Gandolphini wins as he’s suing the shit out HBO. He still thanks them, but not without laughing…even more breasts from Melissa Gilbert? Okay, now this one seems wrong…okay, now what the fuck is Julianne Moore wearing!?! Sorry, but ugly gowns ruin free boobie shots. The gay man in me is just too offended to let the heterosexual enjoy it…I don’t mind Ron Livingston, but someone has to explain to me why he makes women so crazy. He’s like two sandwiches away from being a fat boy…Megan Muhally actually shows more breast on Will & Grace…Lifetime achievement for Clint Eastwood? The man isn’t an actor, he’s a movie star. There’s a difference…Maureen O’Hara!?! She’s a goddess. Bow down you ungrateful fuckers! And she still has a touch of an Irish accent… Now, you wanna see some clevage, see some of her old movies…Renee Zellweger wins and my Chicago predictions are still unchallenged. It’s gonna sweep, people. Just get used to it…Daniel Day Lewis wins and gives a speech filled with words 50% of the audience doesn’t understand. It should have been Nicholas Cage, but anyone but Jack Nicholson. That’s all I’m asking…Uma Thurman makes everyone feel bad by showing off her flat stomach despite two kids, but sadly, not her boobies…and the cast of Chicago wins, including Taye Diggs!
I LOVE POP MUSIC WITHOUT SHAME
Okay, so I wasn’t actually watching A Walk To Remember, I swear, but it’s on cable all the time so I ran across it. They were actually playing a Mandy Moore cover of a minor gem from the group New Radicals. Yes, you remember, they had that one hit “You Get What You Give” where they talk shit about Marilyn Manson and Courtney Love. The brains behind the band was a guy named Gregg Alexander, who was simply not meant to be a performer. He was obviously uncomfortable doing it and he eventually dissolved the band and now just produces and writes. In any case, one minor pop gem on the album was “Someday We’ll Know” (which was co-written by Danielle Brisebois---yes, the little girl from Archie Bunker’s Place) and not only does Mandy Moore cover it, but I also found out that Hall & Oates cover it on their new album. Unfortunately, for them, Mandy Moore actually does a better job of it. It’s a bit overproduced, but it’s the range of her voice and restructuring it as a duet (with some guy named Johnathan Foreman) is nice.
WE ARE EXPERIENCING TECHINCAL DIFFICULTIES
Despite my insistence that I don’t give a shit what you people think, you insist on complaining about the site. That I don’t care about, but I am concerned about the fact that only one person seems to be getting the sound that’s on the opening page. For forever it’s been the opening to “Jane’s Getting Serious.” Over the last few weeks it’s been “London Calling” and “Superman.” There’s something this week too, but if you don’t have all the right plug-ins you’re not going to hear it. And I don’t care. This whole site is about me and my colossal ego.
BUT ARCHIBALD LEACH WAS AN DAMNED UGLY NAME
Finally, if you’ve gotten the annual Vanity Fair Hollywood Issue, you know it’s filled with great photos, but none greater than that picture of Cary Grant. My god. The man was beautiful, absolutely beautiful. It almost makes me want to dress better. Almost. So great is his beauty that I can totally ignore that the man was a bit of a cheap bastard in real life. And I don’t care about the bisexuality. When you look like that, who can refuse you?
3/10/03
“Husbands are chiefly good lovers when they are betraying their wives.” --- Marilyn Monroe
BAD 2 WORSE
Opening at number one is Cradle 2 The Grave, the latest in a series of bottom-feeding Afro-Asian films (well they damn sure ain’t high concept), which is an idea I came up with when I was living with my Japanese roommate in Brooklyn, but was too lazy to do anything with. Now everyone else is making millions and I’m stuck here with you people. DMX, who barks his lines the same way he raps, stars as a master thief (apparently the days of black turtlenecks are done; DMX does his jobs in a black tank-top) who steals from the same bad guy secret agent Jet Li is hunting. That’s your plot. What is has to do with the expression “from the cradle to the grave” is beyond me, but does anyone know what “Romeo Must Die” had to do with the plot of that film (warring Black and Asian gangs)? Personally, I was there for two reasons: Mark Dacascos and Kelly Hu. Mark Dacascos is a star of straight-to-video and made-for-cable actions movies, who only managed to find success in Europe in Crying Freeman and Brotherhood of the Wolf. Kelly Hu has been playing “pretty Asian girl” in Hollywood for the last 15 years and is now best known as the girl from The Scorpion King (which will change when she takes on Wolverine as Lady Deathstrike in the X-Men sequel). At the end of the movie, Dacascos takes on Jet Li (inside a ring of fire) and Kelly Hu takes on Gabrielle Union. The chick fight is slightly lame because Gabrielle Union can’t fight and Kelly Hu can, so the bulk of the time is spent hiding this fact. Still, it is a chick fight and they’re always hot (I’ve never seen a woman punch another woman in the crotch before). Given that Dacascos has literally been trained to be a martial artist from birth, he is horribly underused in this film. There should have been at least two fights between him and Jet Li and the final fight should have been much longer and more elaborate. And, considering Dacascos and Hu play lovers and are so damn pretty, we should have had a gratuitous sex scene that had no real bearing on the plot.
USE WHAT MATTHEW MCCONAUGHEY USED TO GET HIS HAIR BACK
Holding at number two is Old School, which is actually kind of scary because the joke of the movie is that these guys are actually too old to be acting this way, but the success of it might doom them to more movies of the same (Older School?). Especially Vince Vaughn, who seems to be losing an inch of hairline for every pound he gains. He shares little with that guy in Swingers other than height and the name, and he was never, ever what you would call “pretty.”
A SNOWBALL’S CHANCE IN HELL’S KITCHEN
Dropping down to number three is Daredevil and even at $84M, this movie has yet to break even. It cost $80M just to make, so we’re thinking at least $15-20M for marketing costs, bringing us to a $100M outlay. And they have the nerve to greenlight, not just a sequel, but an Elektra movie as well? They will never see the light of day. I promise you this. Unless overseas business comes through, there won’t be another Daredevil movie, much less lame spin-offs with manly-looking women starring in them. Let me put it this way: Batman Returns made money for Warner Brothers. A separate Catwoman movie with Michelle Pfeiffer was announced. That was 1992. Last month Nicole Kidman was being courted for the Catwoman role after Ashley Judd, who’d been attached to it for the last two years, decided she was tired of waiting. What does this say about the chances of an Elektra movie with Jennifer Garner?
LUCY VAN PELT TAUGHT ME ALL I KNOW ABOUT THE HUMAN MIND
How To Lose A Guy in 10 Days is down to number four and I’m glad I’m not the only one who thought the age discrepancy between Matthew McConaughey and Kate Hudson wasn’t a bit bit much. Apparently the producers thought so too, but eventually gave way. Kate Hudson also pointed out that she’s married to a man even older than Matthew McConaughey. Kate, honey, that’s creepy too. Kurt Russell was not your daddy and this loser after another loser (Lenny Kravitz) only proves that you’re still feeling the absence of your real father. That’ll be ten cents, please.
BUT IT’S NOT LIKE YOU CAN BUY AN OSCAR (SNICKER)
Chicago holds at number five and has broken $100M, thus allowing for a whole new level of obnoxious advertising for Miramax and bringing it one step closer to its Oscar sweep.
ETC.
The Jungle Book 2 is down to number six, followed by Shanghai Knights at number seven and The Life of David Gale at number eight.
WHY IS IT YOU DON’T SEE PEOPLE RE-ENACTING BRAVEHEART ANYWAY?
Gods & Generals holds at number nine and apparently I offended people by calling Civil War buffs losers. Sorry, but with all the great wars mankind has endured, why this one, with a side obviously in the moral wrong so captivates is beyond me. Any war that involves a bunch rednecks fighting for the right to keep slaves and sleep with their sistes simply does not interest me. And the costumes just suck. Blue and Gray? That’s it? Why not some nice Roman Wars? You get the red and gold, plus what ever the colors were being worn by the soon-to-be-conquered people. And the colors of the military of practically any Asian nations were just gorgeous. Not to mention that any war after the invention of guns was just no fun. Gone was the man-to-man combat that truly defines honor and skill. Any idiot can fire into a group of soldiers and kill someone. A real man runs into them with just a sword and gets the job done.
NOT A GIRL, NOT YET A WOMAN, BUT MONEYMAKING MACHINE
Finally, The Recruit holds on to the number ten slot. Who on earth is still going to see this? And it’s not even going to be considered a success for anyone involved. I mean, let’s face it, it only opened at number one because of Britney Spears. No other reason.
NOT A GIRL, NOT YET A WOMAN, NOT YET LEARNED WHO NOT TO SCREW
Speaking of Britney Spears, I walk into work one morning and find a message on my voicemail, “I know you don’t listen to Howard Stern, but Fred Durst in on right now talking about having sex with Britney Spears.” I eventually read an account of it online and apparently they hooked up while he was helping her with her new album, but it was apparently just a one-nighter to her, ‘cause she dropped his ugly ass right afterwards. And like the immature thirtysomething man he is, he’s been whining about it ever since. I understand he’d been talking about being in love with her on his website before this. What the fuck is his problem? He’s in his thirties. Is she even 22? I can understand wanting to sleep with a 22-year-old, but deluding yourself into thinking you’re in love with her is just sad. And this isn’t the first time. Before this it was Christina Aguilera who he wanted. Gee, have a problem with women your own age? And what a marvelous example he’s setting for his son. “Chase girls, not women, and when they blow you off, talk about how you fucked them on the first date.” For those interested (and you know you are) it happened with her entourage right outside, she’s very aggressive, she actually keeps her pubic hair and her breasts are real. Supposedly, he also rimmed her, but who doesn’t do that? It my world it’s a given. He also says she’s better in bed than Carmen Electra. Yeah, I’m sure Carmen Electra was less-than-impressed by you too, loser.
NOW IT’S TIME FOR THAT MARGOT KIDDER APPEARANCE
So Christopher Reeve appeared on Smallville in one the better episodes of the series. Not only did we have the incredibly gratuitous stunt-casting, but they actually moved elements of the story forward and as someone who was deeply scarred by The X-Files dragging shit out for literally a decade, it was very rewarding. Now if only they could ditch this lame Clark-Lana-Chloe love triangle they obviously swiped from Dawson’s Creek. But the Christopher Reeve appearance was nice. As soon as he hit the screen, they started playing the original John Williams score from the film and I almost wept. In my opinion, it’s the best thing he ever wrote. Yes, better than Star Wars or Raiders of the Lost Ark.
IT’S A STONE JAM…
Do you know what’s the best thing about the Soul Train Awards? Two straight hours of ethnic-oriented commercials. Every single commercial had a funky bass line….Someone please tell Mariah Carey how tacky it is to sing in front of a montage of yourself? And this is the second time she’s done it…Damn, Paula Abdul looks good in her little bustier…I like LL Cool J, but he really needs to act his age. Yeah, he’s in good shape, but this ripping off your shirt and grinding routine is literally for kids half his age…they know where the money is, because every single commercial break announces Justin Timberlake…Nelly took off that freaking band-aid. You know why he wore it? Because his buddy was in jail for selling drugs. So stupid. Wearing it for a buddy who’s dead is one thing, but for some asshole who got busted selling rock? Negro, please…all the Sprite commercials in the world won’t make Alan Thicke’s wannabe soul man son into a star…when did MC Lyte turn into an actual woman?…India Arie is working that natural thing a bit too much, but she’s still nowhere near as annoying as Erykah Badu is…Arsenio Hall continues his run as the world’s biggest kiss-ass by trying to bury his head in Justin Timberlake’s sphincter…Finally, Justin Timberlake appears and does all three of his singles. Between the goatee and the newest single “Rock Your Body” he’s definitely become the George Michael of the 21st century. Hell, “Rock Your Body” could very easily be a cut off of “Faith.” And I like it…finally Gerald Levert comes on a sings a totally out of place torch ballad. Honestly, who gives a shit?…You know, watching this show was a lot more fun with my sisters and all my cousins talking shit at the screen. I won’t watch it again without them.
AN OLD MAN VENTURES OUT
So, Standard Pretty Girl Name has moved near me in Hell’s Kitchen. This requires a new name: Round The Way Girl. So Round The Way Girl has gone back to school after a detour into singing and short-girl modeling. After studying all day for statistics mid-term she calls me up and says she needs to take a break. I figured we’d just go to a local bar, but no, she wants to go somewhere and hear jazz, so this is how we end up in the West Village. There was a line outside of the jazz club (Smalls), so we go to The Garage on 7th to listen to their jazz band and have a drink at the bar. Actually, only I have the drink. Round The Way Girl just recently realized she was allergic to alcohol, so not only does she not drink, but encourages others around her to do so, so she can get drunk by proxy. After drinks and coconut shrimp there, we went to 101 next door, but that sucked and we wound up at Groove on MacDougal for the next few hours, listening to the house band do cover tunes. It was a nice time, only marred by the crazy, drunk woman who insisted to me the only reason she was being thrown out was because of a CIA plot. Nonetheless, anytime “Tell Me” by Groove Theory is played, I will have a good time (yes, she made me dance; we will not speak of this again.). Round The Way Girl’s new aversion to alcohol proved costly because it didn’t allow her to dance as wantonly as she would have preferred to Tweet’s waton song “Oops.” Of course the cost of these little outings became clear in the afternoon sun (I woke up around 2:00). The smokey sweater has “dry clean only” on the label, and the throat is dry and pained. I’m too old for this sort of thing. Next thing you know it’ll be me complaining that the CIA is having me thrown out of bars.
MR. SANDMAN/SEND ME A DREAM/MAKE HIM THE CUTEST BOY I’VE EVER SEEN…
So I was forced to watch Ed this week because Taye Diggs was on it. Why does he do this to me? It’s still better that being forced to watch Ally McBeal, but still… I liked Ed initially, but warm-hearted whimsical and witty gets annoying on a weekly basis. In the course of the show Ed is having a lucid dream, which means it’s a dream he can control because he’s aware he’s dreaming. Taye Diggs pops up in the dream and asks him, “Why are you dreaming about me?” Ed, buddy, I know how you feel. But I did get a kick out of the appearance of Hall & Oats at the end (and I like their little cover of The New Radicals “Someday We’ll Know” which is out now).
GET WELL SOON, HONEY!
Another person forcing me back into bad TV will be Bridget Fonda. She’s going to be on a storyarc of The Practice. She was driving to the set when she had her car accident last week. She’s fine, but I have this fear that the near-death experience will propel her into a hasty marriage to fugly Danny Elfman (what is it with her and ugly, talented musicians). I mean, she is 39. Either that clock is broken or it’s ticking so loudly it hurts. Don’t do it, Bridget! Wait for me!
DOUBLE DUTCH BUS GOING DOWN THE STREET…
Can I tell you how much I love Missy Elliot’s “Gossip Folks” with its sample of “Double Dutch Bus” a classic from my childhood? Even more, I love the video with those three little dancing girls who are working it so hard. And I have to laugh when I hear the city of College Park being brought up in any song (it’s the suburb right next to East Point, which is where I grew up).