FEBRUARY '05 ARCHIVE

2/28/05

“When you cannot get a thing, then is the time to have contempt for it.” --- Baltasar Gracian

PLAYING AT A MAGIC JOHNSON THEATER NEAR YOU

Diary of a Mad Black Woman opens at number one and the shame I feel over this cannot be described. If this single-handedly killed Black films no one could protest. This is why Vin Diesel and The Rock won’t admit to being Black. To do so would mean giving up starring in $100M films to making chitlin theater shit like this. You may not know it, but there’s an entire industry of working-class Black theater filled with crummy writing, bad acting, heavy-handed morality and no small amount of Bible-thumping. It’s very successful and was only a matter of time before someone decided to take a chance and put one onscreen. Sadly, there will undoubtedly be more because of this. Sure, it’ll drop 50% next week, but it probably cost ninety-nine cents to make and so probably turned a profit this weekend at just $22M. I have more respect for a fucking hood movie filled with rappers than this. How the hell can I respect a movie that pretends to be a drama with a grown man dressed up like a grandmother playing it straight!?! When Martin Lawrence did it in Big Mama’s House, it was a joke. Here it’s never meant to be “a man in a dress” but a legitimate female character. And it’s not just anyone, but the fucking writer/director, Tyler Perry. Sigh. And I promise you, more Black people will see this than saw Ray. The only mitigating factor is that more Black people will also bootleg and steal this than bootleg and stole Ray.

LOVE KNOWS NO COLOR…BUT CAN SPOT UGLY A MILE AWAY

Hitch is pushed down to number two and there’s a minor controversy (minor in that only a few whiners care) about the casting of Eva Mendes as Will Smith’s love interest because a Black female lead other than Halle Berry would have been risky, because then it becomes “a Black film.” Well given what’s sitting at fucking number one, I can fully understand that fear. And the sad thing is we’re still luckier than most. You won’t see Jackie Chan or Jet Li getting a woman of any background, much less their own. Besides, if you cast two minorities you get both minority audiences who might not otherwise have come to see your film. They should have gone whole hog and made Kevin James’s love interest, not some skinny Blonde supermodel, but freaking Margaret Cho and get everyone in the theater. Not to mention balancing out the looks thing. Sorry, but I simply cannot, will not find it romantic that unattractive, physically limited guys get gorgeous, physically ideal women. And no, not it’s not "ironic" that I feel that way, so fuck you! I personally, do not ask for what I can’t give---but if I can find it while she’s drunk, all bets are off. Not that I consider Amber Valletta perfect, but she does refreshingly look a bit aged. She’s over 30 now and looks every minute of it, if not more.

GOTTA DO SOMETHING WHILE THE WIFE IS ON TOUR

Constantine is down to number three and as in all these battles with Satan and evil the question always arises: why is it always the Catholic Church that is Satan’s only enemy? This oddity is really driven home because the obviously Shia LaBeouf, Keanu Reeves’ sidekick, at one point in the movie, joins him in Latin incantations. It couldn’t be more odd if it where Woody Allen or Dustin Hoffman doing it. And if the Catholic Church is the only thing that can beat Satan, then why the hell does he always attack Catholics? I’d be harassing all those poor non-believers who have no defense. You know Protestants, Muslims, Jews, Buddhists, pretty much the other 90% of the fucking planet earth. Also appearing in this is Mr. Gwen Stefani, Gavin Rossdale, as the demon Balthazar. He actually has more to do in this than his wife does in The Aviator, not to mention more lines. But I can’t help but think, what’s the rest of the band doing now? Did they officially break up after their last album, Golden State, both sucked and tanked and he essentially rewrote “Machine Head” as “Adrenaline” for XXX? Too bad. They were fun for awhile with their “pretty boy grunge” and “Letting The Cables Sleep” remains a hot song. Make sure you find the remix on one of the Café Del Mar albums.

SELF-FULFILLING PROPHETIC MOVIE TITLE NUMBER 28938

Cursed opens at number four after sitting on Miramax’s shelf and being stupidly cut down to a PG-13. This is a reunion of the team that created Scream (not to mention legendary SFX artist Rick Baker doing effects) so you’d think they’d leave them along and give it a big promotion push on that basis alone. I didn’t see it. Not because it’s scary (strangely, werewolves and vampires don’t scare me), but because it simply looks stupid. And how the hell does Christina Ricci continue to find work? How many middle-aged men in Hollywood still see her as a sexual fantasy that she continues to be cast? God know your average college age frat boy could care less about her. Not to mention she hasn’t been in anything even resembling a hit since Sleepy Hollow in 1999 and hasn’t been in a good movie since The Opposite of Sex in 1998. And who the fuck thinks Shannon Elizabeth is even pretty that she’s working? She looks like a horse and in an industry filled with horse-faced actresses (Sarah Jessica Parker, Julia Roberts, Jennifer Garner) she’s the least attractive of them all.

GIMME AN S! GIMME A U! GIMME A C! GIMME…

Man of the House opens at number five and I was mildly tempted to see this, being a cheerleader movie and all, but luckily my illness prevented me from making any non-vital physical efforts. Now Tommy Lee Jones doesn’t make that many movies, so obviously he’s taking his time, so why does he always wind up in so much crap? Is he another one of those guys who only takes roles to help pay for his life back on his ranch? And whatever he’s doing on that ranch, reading scripts ain’t part of it. What’s really sad is that the studio openly admits this movie was made without a finished script and the cast re-gathered after shooting once one had been written. What. The. Fuck? You can get paid without even finishing now? Where do I sign up, ‘cause that’s what I do best.

LEMMINGS

Million Dollar Baby drops to number six this week, but will be briefly resurrected by its Oscar wins next week by those people who apparently think an Academy Award means a movie is good. They deserve what they get.

ETC.

Because of Winn-Dixie is down to number seven, followed by Are We There Yet at number eight and Son of the Mask at number nine.

I’M THAT FRIEND WHO LAUGHS WHEN YOU FAIL

Finally, The Aviator closes out the top ten at number ten and I’d love to say this will get a boost from a few wins, but they were mostly technical and Marty’s luck simply doesn’t work that way. Sorry, but I’m not sad about his loss because 1) I’d rather he not win than win for something so below his standards like The Aviator; and 2) I take a sick pleasure in his failure because of his support of Roman Polanski. For that alone he should go to his grave without ever getting the Oscar he so desperately craves.

AND HOW COULD WE LEAVE OUT ITALIANS WHO PLAY LATINOS?

I can’t tell you how much I love VH1’s show Ego Trip’s Race O Rama. It is absolutely hysterical and what makes it funny is the honesty involved about race relations. There were three episodes on this week: “Dude, Where’s My Ghetto Pass?” “In Race We Lust” and “Blackophobia” which were about, respectively, the desire of White people to act Black, the interracial lusts of all races and the ironic fear of Black people that sits side by side with the odd idolatry. Interspersed throughout these episodes where hysterical bits like “Places Where Blacks and Asians Go” “Black People Who Are No Longer Scary” “Who’s More Latin?” (with Cameron Diaz and Christina Aguilera), “Who’s More Chinese?” (with Tyson Beckford and Naomi Campbell whom I really didn’t know were actually both part Asian, because so many bruthas do have almond eyes) and “Who’s More Black?” (with Derek Jeter and Jason Kidd whom I both thought were Latin). My favorite bit had to be on the “In Lust We Trust” episode where Kool Keith is blindfolded and has to identify the ethnic background of three lapdancers and he fucking does it! And his reasons were hysterical because of how accurate they were (“Asian girls stand far…White girls work for that money…Black girls smell fruity.”) But three hours simply was not enough. How can you examine White people who want to act Black and not examine it among other races, particularly my favorite, the Ghetto Asian Girl? How can you bring up that Arabs are the new scary ethnic group without having a bunch of Arab-Americans talk about it? How can you bring up the obsession of Black culture with Italian mob culture and not bring in a bunch of Italians to talk about it? Or discuss the sad similarities between thuggish Italians and thuggish Blacks? How can you do “Who’s More Black” and not bring up Vin Diesel and The Rock? How could you call out Quincy Jones and his love of Blondes and not call out Robert DeNiro and his love of Black women? How can you call out Wesley Snipes’ love of Asian women and not the same from his friend and co-star, Woody Harrelson (both married Asian women, but Woody was a typical ricebuster and got an ugly one)? And every ethnic group and race needs their own in-depth episode. What little I know of Asian Americans suggests a twisted culture of self-hatred, plastic surgery, fast cars and excessive use of hair products that needs to be explored for the world to see.

AND THIS YEAR I WATCHED IT SOBER

Okay, so it was Oscar weekend and I recovered enough from my week of being sick (from which I emerged a full eight pounds lighter) to make an Oscar party with my geek girls. The red carpet is dull because it lacks anything truly horrific, like Uma Thurman’s Heidi dress or Celine Dion’s backward suit. It’s mostly just sad, like Hilary Swank, who also appears to be wearing her dress backwards and I swear they covered up her butt-crack with make-up or spackle, because it’s too low not to show some ass. Scarlett Johansson is a dull, black mess with hair like a bird’s nest. Drew Barrymore and Renee Zellweger are too pale to have hair that dark and lips that red. You can’t tell me that dress isn’t hurting Salma Hayek’s boobs and how can she see? Natalie Portman remains queen of the elves. Johnny Depp isn’t even interesting crazy this year. Black men are disappointing all over, either pimping like the Van Peebles or looking like shriners like Spike Lee and don’t get me started on Samuel L. Jackson’s tracksuit. Charlize Theron isn’t orange this year and looks nice, Halle is pretty but a bit dull and when Virginia Madsen has the best dress of the night, you know there’s a problem...As we all know, Chris Rock was the host this year in an effort to get younger viewers, which makes me wonder if the Academy knows Chris Rock is fucking 40? David Chapelle will get you younger viewers, not Chris Rock. In any case, what is the point in hiring someone potentially edgy then all but sitting on them? In any case, his monologue was decent. It was fun to see someone get a little mean rather than see the never-ending sucking up that Billy Crystal and Robin Williams do. And unlike Whoopi Goldberg, it was actually funny. But the host really doesn’t matter that much because he’s essentially gone after the first ten minutes…this whole idea of having all the nominees onstage is stupid and it didn’t get past the first agent or manager of anyone who mattered, which is why you only see it for the lesser categories. Not even the writers would put up with that bullshit…of course Morgan Freeman won. Easy Reader was due. But would it fucking kill him to wear a tux? It’s a goddamn formal event. In fact, men were a disgrace all night. You’re not going to a funeral. Any type of black tie simply will not do…Robin Williams showing how long it’s been since he was the hot comic. Does he realize that the Jack Nicholson impression was last funny in the 80’s? He was forbidden to do a song about the whole Spongebob Squarepants thing, but could it have been lamer than his routine?…I still maintain that art direction and clothing design for people and places that really existed don’t deserve and award. If you can fucking look it up, how creative are you?…Of course The Incredibles won. Hell, it should have been up for Best Picture, period. And if the nomination of the incredibly lame Shark Tale doesn’t prove what a bullshit, ghettoized award Best Animated Feature is to keep second-rate movies from being outclassed by cartoons, I don’t know what will…Sigh. Beyonce is going to sing every song? Please tell me Jay-Z will at least come out and rap during them…goddamn. I didn’t think it was possible for the Counting Crows to suck more than they already did, but they hit bottom and began to tunnel. And while he was always ugly, now he’s fat and ugly and looking like Sideshow Bob…Damn right Cate Blanchett won. And if you’re wondering how few people can pull off yellow, see how Penelope Cruz does not…Sideways gets a token “yes, we know indies and exist and we have to acknowledge them in case our careers also need saving by a gritty film about three AIDs infected crack whored pulling off a robbery” Oscar of the night…Sidney Lumet is making a movie with Vin Diesel? Now you know it’s been a long time since Dog Day Afternoon…someone beat Sean Penn’s ass. Someone beat it like he tried to beat Madonna’s. Beat him until he develops a sense of humor…of course Hilary Swank won. The actors aren’t going to forgive Annette Benning for giving up her career (and apparently her youth, because she looks like Warren Beatty’s been using her blood to keep himself alive) to be a babymaking machine. And you know what? Two Oscars still won’t make you any movie’s romantic female lead…what the fuck are Santana and Antonio Banderas doing onstage? But I love that the writer and singer of the song, who wasn’t allowed to sing his fucking song, got up there and sang anyway. He couldn’t have been more obvious if he just flat out said, “Fuck you, academy.” I’m sure Minnie Driver, who was also denied the sing the song she sang in the movie, was smiling somewhere…that Roll Call of Death was much, much too short and where the fuck was Sandra Dee? And what the fuck? Johnny Carson got a separate tribute but not Marlon Fucking Brando!?! Half the fucking actors present wouldn’t exist without him!…Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless mind actually gets the second, “okay, we may need some pathetic movie geek to resurrect our careers with an indie comedy about criminals” Oscar. Notice how they’re both for writing…Jamie Foxx’s win was a foregone conclusion and at the very least we’ll never have to hear him sing or talk about his dead grandmother again…and Martin Scorsese is going home disappointed again. Hey, I’d rather he lose for the right reasons than win for the wrong ones. I mean, how wrong is it that Paul Newman won for Scorsese’s lame The Color of Money? And it’s fun to see Clint win because he could so obviously give a shit. Win, lose, he doesn’t care. But Marty, Marty cares, no matter how much he says he’s accepted he’ll never win. Later that night, as my stomach was fighting the jambalaya it still wasn’t ready for after a week of soup (and continued to kick my ass for most of Monday), Goodfellas came on and I was reminded how much The Aviator blew and how good it was that he didn’t win for it. Besides, do you really want an award from people who think Dances With Wolves was better than Goodfellas?

2/14/05

“My hates have always occupied my mind much more actively and have given greater spiritual satisfaction than my friendships.” --- Westbrook Pegler

I’M SHOCK, SHOCKED TO FIND SAME EX HERE!

Hitch hangs on at number one and it’s a very big deal for Will Smith who has formerly never had a hit where something didn’t blow up. To make this transition into romantic comedy hints at “career longevity” which is crucial when you’re over thirty. How concerned was he about this? Well, for some reason he felt to confess he and Jada have an open marriage just as the film was opening. Never heard of it? Well, that’s because he told it to freaking Essence instead of a magazine that could do him some good. Also, this is in the middle of Jessica & Nick and Brad & Jen and not to be cruel, but still the average White person doesn’t really care that Will Smith has all-but admitted his wife loves pussy (because we know Jada’s not sleeping with other men). Not to mention, Jada is anything but a star. I used to call them the Black “Tom & Nicole” but what they are is the Black “Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson.” A superstar and his actress wife who would all but disappear if not for him. We should be thankful he didn’t force the producers to give her a role in this movie. Then again, maybe she was too busy with “her band.” Yeah, she has a band that was opening for Britney Spears, so if you’re a parent had to take your kids to that concert, you were forced to endure twice the suffering you anticipated.

YOUR OWN HELL-BASED PUN HERE:

Constantine opens at number two and why am I at this when we all know I don’t do the scary? Well, Constantine is based on a comic book character, so the geek in me took precedence. Second, it was at the Ziegfeld and we know how I feel about that. In any case, it didn’t look even remotely scary, as much as another employment opportunity for the computer special effects guys in Hollywood and I was right. In the comic books, John Constantine is an English guy (based by the creator, Alan Moore, on Sting) who’s kind of like a supernatural troubleshooter. He’s against the bad guys, but will do any dirty thing he needs to do in order to get the job done. In a very roundabout way, you could say the character of Giles on Buffy The Vampire Slayer was lifted from him, all the way down to the youthful group of supernatural buddies who messed with something they shouldn’t have years ago. In this version, Constantine is a bit more noble, because apparently we couldn’t handle a good guy whose very first case results in the loss of a little girl’s soul to hell the way he did in the comic book. As always in these types of films, some ancient prophecy will allow hell to exist on earth unless our hero can stop it, and the fulfillment of this prophecy always depends either on a hot girl or a small child with a hot mom. No child this time, but the hot girl is Rachel Weisz playing one of the most improbable L.A. Police detectives in recent memory (don’t police departments have height requirements any more?). Her twin sister has committed suicide and it’s somehow connected to the supernatural. We get to see hell a few times and not surprisingly, it looks like LA, albeit as wasteland of LA. One of the big problems is that the movie kinda rests on whether or not you buy Keanu as a cynical demon fighter and while the script doesn’t exactly help him, neither does his not-quite-there-Valley Boy delivery which was fine in The Matrix, but not here. You get the feeling this is the unofficial Bill & Ted sequel after Bill has been killed by demons and Ted’s sworn to even the score. But the film is not without pleasures from its supporting cast. Tilda Swinton makes the most of her small role as the angel Gabriel and Peter Stomare just steals the movie in his appearance as Satan and has the movie’s best line. When Keanu is about to light up a cigarette, Satan says, “Oh, go right ahead. I own stock.” If the whole film had been that sharp and witty, it would have been pretty amazing.

DIDN’T YOU LEARN ANYTHING FROM THAT STUPID MOVIE ABOUT WALL MART?

Because of Winn Dixie opens at number three and there’s no way in hell I will ever see this. Southern fried feel good movies are as evil as evil can get in my mind. Mainly because they’re filled with bad southern accents and have no clue as to how racism works in the south. I don’t know about his one, but seeing Eva Marie Saint’s name in the cast doesn’t fill me with hope of accent accuracy. Not to mention it’s about a cute kid and her cute dog in the south and there are eccentric townfolk? Please. Root canal first and I’ve actually had root canal, so I know what I’m talking about. And Winn Dixie is the name of a chain of supermarkets in the south. I swear I haven’t even heard the name in 15 years. I don’t think they even exist any longer.

WHY NOT JUST CALL IT MASK 2.0

Son of the Mask opens at number four and does anything look more soulless than this movie? If Constantine is just about computer effects guys getting work, then this is about them buying plasma TV’s and putting their kids through college. The first one rode solely on the appeal of Jim Carey and he’s nowhere to be seen here. Instead we get Jamie Kennedy? When he is he going to give up and realize he’s the new Jay Mohr? And with him is this woman who looks like she was created from the DNA of Tea Leoni (and who, ironically, was in Me, Myself & Irene with Jim Carey)? Hope that new gig on Monk is paying, ‘cause you’re gonna need it. They even realize it’s crap with the ad campaign that just says, “A cute baby, a cute dog, special effects!” So they’ve just given up any sort or pretense that this is an actual movie and are just selling hooks. For Alan Cummings, it’s just an excuse to parade around on talk show and push his new fragrance, “Cumming.” No, I’m not kidding. That’s what it’s called and is probably funnier than anything else in this whole movie. But who’s going to buy that? I mean, how can you put that on and not think you’re wearing some of Alan Cumming’s sperm?

OTHERS

Million Dollar Baby is down to number five, followed by Are We There Yet at number six and Boogeyman at number seven.

THERE’S A CHRISTOPHER ROBIN, BUT WE JUST DON’T TALK ABOUT HIM

Pooh’s Heffalump Movie is down to number eight and my sisters and as I may have mentioned before, I have special connection with the whole Pooh family as we’ve all borne the nicknames of the characters at one point. My baby sister was called Tigger by her college roommate because she was so rambunctious, but it never went beyond that. I was briefly called “Rabbit” when I was a kid before the rest of my body caught up with my two front teeth. But my younger sister was called “Pooh” because someone in my family said she looked like a “round little Pooh bear” and it stuck. Seriously. Because we’re southern, there’s nothing strange to us about calling a 33-year-old woman Pooh. Needless to say, when she went to college, they never heard a word about this. In retrospect, I would have been better off as an Eeyore. Rabbit was uptight and annoying, whereas Eeyore realized all the sad misery of the world.

MARTY’S NO FAN OF CHICKS EITHER

The Aviator is down one notch to number nine and why is it every actress says she’ll do nudity only if Scorsese asks for it? First of all, it’s bullshit. You’ll do it when the price is right and your career needs it. And yes, I know that’s supposed to mean that with him they’ll know it’s not just “tits for tits sake” but when has Scorsese ever asked anyone to get naked? Even when Sharon Stone had to do that horrific sex scene with Joe Pesci (which I’m sure gives her nightmares to this day), there was no nudity. And you know no one ever says, “I’ll do it for Spielberg” because we all Stevie’s afraid of girls and their naked parts and would never have them onscreen, least of all in a sexual manner. That’s why his wife had to make Love Letters without him.

AND SHE WAS MOTHER-LIKE ON BOSOM BUDDIES

Finally The Wedding Date closes out the top ten and I suppose it was inevitable that redheaded Holland Taylor, who is second only to Blythe Danner in playing the inappropriately behaving mother of movie stars, would wind up playing Debra Messing’s mother in something and here she is (ironically, it’s Blythe Danner who plays Will’s mother on Will & Grace). So far she’s been the mother of Carla Gugino in Spy Kids, Kevin Bacon’s mother in She’s Having A Baby, Nicole Kidman’s mother in To Die For, Michelle Pfeiffer’s mother in One Fine Day, Hope Davis’ mother in Next Stop, Wonderland, the actress who played Jim Carrey’s mother in The Truman Show, Rene Sofer’s mother in Keeping The Faith and is Charlie Sheen’s and Jon Cryer’s mother on Two And A Half Men. And I’m sure I’m missing a few.

AND THE FAT GUY IS PROBABLY DEAD OR DOING DINNER THEATER---WHICH IS THE SAME

But tying at top ten is Sideways, for perhaps the last time unless somebody involved wins an Oscar (all the indie awards it’s going to win mean shit). There’s some minor discussion about whether or not the main character is an alcoholic or not, but as someone observed, “when you’re stealing from your mother” as this character does “you’re an alcoholic.” Also the title “Sideways” is apparently a reference to alcoholism in the book, so what’s there to debate? Hell, I knew he was a boozer when they were drinking and driving to start their road trip. That’s it. Wine changes nothing. And what is going through the minds of the rest of the freaking Wings cast now? When Thomas Hayden Church left Wings to be on the criminally underrated Ned & Stacey (co-starring, yes, Debra Messing) and opening the door for Tony Shaloub’s first big break (his Italian mechanic was the best part of the show), some of the cast was vocal about how much better it was now that he was gone. Well, now he’s got an Oscar nomination and where are you? The girl turns up on Lifetime as one its either “professional-single-gal-looking-for-love” or “wronged-women-looking-for-revenge”, while the girl who played her sister is now The Widow Ritter and is suing because apparently someone should have detected the microscopic blood vessel problem that killed John Ritter in her opinion. Pretty boy Tim Daly gets a pass from me because he was once the voice of Superman on the animated show, but the guy who played his brother, Steven Weber, went only to his well-deserved career of playing supporting assholes in films. He’s just got the face for it. Don’t look for this reunion show anytime soon.

BESIDES, A FORTY-FOOT PENIS WOULD ONLY MAKE ME FEEL EVEN MORE THREATENED

So, Inside Deep Throat opened here in NYC what the hell is this doing on the big screen? This is an HBO special if I ever heard of it. And that’s the only place I would watch it. I’m not paying $10.50 to see a documentary about a porn film no matter how interesting and it is pretty interesting, but I know this because of the small coverage it got on VH1’s “When Porn Ruled The Earth.” Hell, I wouldn’t pay $10.50 to see real porn on the big screen and neither would anyone else. This is supposedly going on the midnight circuit and there it may find a home with stoned college kids looking to try and get their dates hot under the pretense of art. What I find the most amusing is that Harry Reems still lights up whenever a camera is place in front of him. Despite all he’s been through, the man still loves and audience, which is what, I guess, separates actors of all kinds from normal people. I saw Deep Throat once years ago, but it was a shoddy print and I was anything but impressed but I’m sure it was impressive at the time. Kind of like how the special effects in King Kong were amazing then, but now look kinda goofy, but still entertaining.

THE LOVE OF A SHOW THAT DARE NOT SPEAK ITS NAME

Okay, the new season of The L Word started last night and that fucking theme song has got to go. It’s like something out of the 70’s. I swear for a second I thought it was the people behind Electro Woman & Dyna Girl (which takes on a whole new meaning in the gay context). At the very least they should use the remix that played when Shane got her latest conquest. But points for nudity in the credits. That’s never bad. I cannot watch this show all the way through, ever. It’s just has so many genuine uncomfortable moments, I find myself switching channels, then coming back when hopefully the unpleasantness is over. I mean, when Bette shows up at the coffee shop to see Tina. You know that’s not going to end well. When Kit shows up at Ivan’s unannounced? Bad. When Tim goes to see Jenny before he leaves? I just get all squirmy. But if they’re going to insist that Dana is a tennis pro, they’re going to have to a) get the actress playing her in shape. Those scenes where she’s working out with those pencil thin arms are just sad. And b) have her go off and play sometime. I realize that the second season starts only a few weeks after the first, but still. Have we ever seen her go off and play? And while I’m not sad to see Marina go, they couldn’t get Karina Lombard back to do something better than the “mysterious off-screen breakdown?” Jenny remains as annoying and self-involved as ever, but not even she deserved what Tim did to her before he left. And what straight man can start having sex (not to mention was is angry revenge sex) and then stop? I’m such a master of cutting off my nose to spite my face that I’ve got different knives for different levels of spite, but not even I’m denying myself sex out of spite. Wait. I have done that. Never mind.

GOOD TIME TO INVEST IN COFFINS IN LA

Damn, Sandra Dee (born Alexandria Zuck and you’d change that shit too)? Sandra Dee!?! Death is just being a real bitch now, but I also blame Kevin Spacey’s movie. Hunter S. Thompson shot himself!?! Holy fucking shit!?! Actually, what’s really amazing is that he lasted this long given his lifestyle. Probably the only way he was going to die was to kill himself. Apparently God was incapable. Also gone is Dan O’Herlihy, better known to you as the head of OCP from the Robocop movies. And Bonnie Raitt’s dad, John Raitt died too. He was also a singer, working on Broadway for years and was in the film version of The Pajama Game.

I KNOW ART, AND EVEN HE WAS DISAPPOINTED

So, I went up to Central Park to see “The Gates.” It was…nice. Sorry, but I was a little underwhelmed. I’ve got no problem with “art for art’s sake” because it’s art the appreciation of art that separates living from just “surviving.” (Yeah, I’m a deep muthafucka.) But it simply wasn’t grandiose enough for me. If you’ve got Central Park as your playground, you should go all out. A bunch of curtains? Nice, but that’s only the beginning, leading to a gigantic tent covering the whole park for a day or something like that. Or maybe change the colors. A bunch of saffron for two weeks just isn’t enough for me. But I took me some nice pictures (yes, I took that picture at the top). I was thinking about going back during the week, since don’t have anything booked and there won’t be as many people, but that would require getting up early when there’s no money involved and what’s that chance of that?

2/7/05

“Money is the fruit of evil as often as the root of it.” --- Harry Fielding

DON’T HATE THE PLAY, HATE THE GAME

Hitch opens at number one and unlike horror films, I do love the romantic comedy. This is why I’ve seen as many Julia Roberts movies as I have even though I despise her. I just have a weakness for “boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl back in totally implausible third action fashion.” I can’t explain it. It’s always the same, but I never stop digging it. This particular version is also a variation on the Cyrano de Bergerac theme as Will Smith is a “date doctor” for men in Manhattan. We know he’s Mr. Smooth (or as the bruthas say “smoouf”) because we see him pull a serious hottie in a bar from a crowd full of men. Okay, let’s not kid ourselves here. Being 6’2” he’s got an advantage. Women like height and there’s no way he can teach you to be taller. None. If he could, I’d be his best customer. But Colin Farrell is a dwarf, so game does have a lot to do with it. In any case, the movie has as its center Kevin James, an accountant who’s after one of his firm’s clients, an heiress played by Amber Valetta. This is the Manhattan of movie fantasy, so everyone is good-looking, well-off and has huge apartments. Amber Valetta is an heiress which tells you she has it all. Will Smith apparently charges a lot for his services and has a great apartment. Even Kevin James, as Amber’s accountant who can afford Will Smith, has some cash and a nice place. The real girl of this is the Latina Cindy Crawford (by way of Gina Gershon), Eva Mendes, who, as a reporter can’t possibly have too much cash, but she’s beautiful and has a huge apartment (in SoHo above the Helmut Lang store no less) so still fulfills the requirements to be in this movie. The ironic twist of this movie is that while Will Smith is teaching everyone else how to have the perfect date, his dates with Eva Mendes are disastrous but endearing to her nonetheless. I have to give them credit for avoiding the cliché that he would somehow lose his game when around a girl he likes. He doesn’t. He’s Mr. Playa with her all the time, but can’t help unforeseen circumstances like food poisoning. And even then, there’s still a smooth recovery. Also for a near two-hour running time, it moves pretty quickly, alternating at just the right time between Will Smith’s story and Kevin James’s story and ultimately tying the two together. The conclusion only works because the movie says it should, because it’s not very well written or organized and definitely needed another pass by the writer. And the funniest part of the movie has to be the dance line with Kevin James and Will Smith, who is the master of the goofy dance and has been since his Fresh Prince of Bel Air days. But know that a lot of what you see in the trailer is not here. Like I said, it’s almost two hours as is, so that whole bit where the girl throws her Coke on her boyfriend is gone as is pretty much all of Michael Rapaport’s role as his brother-in-law, which is automatically interesting. This is what makes DVD’s so profitable. At the very least, I will rent this to see the deleted scenes.

AND IT’S NOT LIKE HE’S GOT A RAP CAREER ANYMORE

Boogeyman is down to number two, followed by Are We There Yet actually holding at number three so Ice Cube can start pricing the new BMW’s, as between this, Barbershop and the upcoming XXX sequel, homebody is gettin’ seriously paid because Cube is always a producer of his movies. Seriously, if you’re not a producer, you’re just a fieldhand working for the man, a ho’ selling your ass for the studio pimps. A sucka. Cube has actually been a producer since Friday, which makes him a producer longer than Tom Cruise beating him by a year, not to mention he started producing on his fourth film, but Cruise didn’t start until Mission: Impossible, his eighteenth.

I’D CALL IT THE SS DIPSHIT IN HIS HONOR

Million Dollar Baby actually rises a notch as the controversy has seemingly helped it, which I think is great because I so despise Michael Medved. Personally I’d take out an ad in Variety and thank him for being such as asshole because the extra money earned helped to buy me a new boat.

OF COURSE HE CALLS HIS BOYFRIEND “POOH BEAR”

Pooh’s Heffalump Movie opens at number five and these Pooh movies must make money somehow, because Disney doesn’t release these theatrically for fun. Sorry, but while my memories of the Disney Pooh cartoons are fond, the overwhelming gayness of Christopher Robin now overshadows all else. I always wondered why he was wearing girl’s shoes when I was a kid, but now, as an adult, it all makes sense. I picture him now living in the SoHo area of London (its gay neighborhood) under the name of Robin Christopher and is one of its premier drag queens.

SOME WOULD RATHER RULE IN HELL

The Wedding Date is down to number six and Four Weddings & A Funeral lifts for this film are the randy English characters. Aside from a slutty cousin (filling the role normal played by slutty best friend), the bachelorette party has, perhaps, a group of the sluttiest looking English actresses working. Not that I’m complaining. Few things sound nicer to my ears than “slutty English girl.” And believe it or not, this film has already made budget at $19M, because it only cost $16M. This is not to say it will be incredibly successful, but come DVD time, it might eventually turn a profit. Not that she should be encouraged to make this crap. I mean, you’ve got a good day job. That should afford you the opportunity to pick your scripts more carefully. But some people just want to be the star even in a bad movie.

HER COOCHIE REMAINS IN A GUCCI NAME

Hide & Seek is down to number seven and also in this is Elizabeth Shue who totally wasted her moment of hotness years ago after Leaving Las Vegas. Now she’s just another body in a bad horror movie (please, it’s given away in the commercial). How sad is that? Lots of bad choices, though personally, I did enjoy The Saint. Still, between the failure of it, The Trigger Effect, Cousin Bette and Hollow Man, it was over almost before it began. Also in this is Amy Irving who stopped caring about making a living as an actress when divorcing Steven Spielberg netted her a cool $100M and if you believe the book “Easy Riders & Raging Bulls” it was all business for her from the day she met him.

KIND OF THE ANTI-LUCY LIU

Sideways holds at number eight and one good thing I can say about Sandra Oh is that, as an Asian actress working in Hollywood, there’s a serious dearth of Dragon ladies, lotus blossoms (of course you actually have to be pretty to play that role), nymphs (ditto), crime lords and daughters of martial arts masters on her resume. This is what happens when you choose to work in indie film. I first saw her years ago in a very nice little indie film called Double Happiness which is what I always think of when I see her---and she was ugly then too.

WE LOVE YA, MARTY, BUT NOT THAT MUCH

The Aviator is down to number nine and it seems that no one wants Martin Scorsese to win for this crap. We all want him to get his Oscar, just not for shit like this.

THIS IS THE END, MY FRIEND, THE END

Finally, Meet The Fockers closes the top ten at number ten.

NEXT THE ASIAN VERSION: THE MANSFIELD PARKS

Also opening this week was Bride & Prejudice a Bollywood musical take on Pride & Prejudice. This time it’s an Indian family looking to marry off their daughters and Darcy is an American hotel builder. Needless to say, it’s gorgeous to see and this time it’s not just the scenery, it’s a former Miss World 1994 and Miss India 1994, Aishwarya Rai, in the Elizabeth role and a 1993 Miss India as her sister. But if you know anything about beauty pageants you know all the contestants look the same and it took about half an hour before I could tell them apart. They’re all beautiful, but in the same way. It’s like casting three blondes from the Miss America pageant and putting them side by side. You couldn’t tell the difference either. In any case, Aishwarya Rai is apparently the shit in India. She’s their Julia Roberts (if Julia Roberts were actually beautiful and not a cross between a horse and a ferret). She gained 20 pounds for this role and if we could all gain that much weight and still be drop dead fucking gorgeous, I’d end my gym membership tomorrow. Darcy is played by an Australian which I simply do not understand. Why not just hire some bland American, because I’ve seen Martin Henderson in two movies now (the first was the abysmal Torque because I never saw him in The Ring) and I still wouldn’t recognize him. Why not just hire Colin Firth to do it again so he can complete the hat trick? It’s also a musical and if nothing else, Indian musicals are fun with the way they adhere to traditions with the men singing on one side, the women on the other. But in an effort to make this palatable to everyone, the music ranges from Indian, pop, R&B (yes, that’s why Ashanti’s name is in the credits) to gospel being song by choir on an LA beach when the film hits it’s third locale (the first two are England and obviously India). But one huge problem with this is the Indian ban on onscreen kissing. Sorry, but that’s not going to fly here, baby. They should have made two versions, because it is incredibly odd to see all this love and romance onscreen then see a couple look deeply into one another’s eyes before then both turning and looking off into the sunset. I’m not kidding. That’s what happens. It’s very annoying and pretty much jerks you right out of the movie. Also in this film is Indira Varma, who was the super-hot star of Kama Sutra. She plays the “Bad Indian Girl” and I can’t remember her counterpart in the book. In any case, she’s the Indian girl, who’s painfully thin, while Aishwarya is lush; her hair is short, while Aishwarya’s is long; she prefers England, while Aishwarya loves India, and to top it off she has an English accent. Needless to say, I preferred her (and not just because I’ve seen her completely naked in Kama Sutra). I hope no one thinks this if going to cross them over to Hollywood and America, because if they do, they might want to talk to some Asian actors, for whom all the kung fu hits in the world cannot help.

AND FIST FULL OF YEN WAS ONLY TEN MINUTES

Speaking of Asian actors and martial arts movies, also opening this week was Ong Bak with Tony Jaa, a former stuntman poised to be the next martial arts superstar. Well, he does kick a lot of ass in this movie in old school manner of no special effects and lots of sore stuntmen when the day was done. It’s your typical martial arts plot. Tony is the country boy (funny how martial arts heroes are never from the big city, where you’d actually be fighting all the time) come to the big city to retrieve a Buddha that was stolen from his village and winds up in an underground fighting arena, where, of course, he kicks everyone’s ass. But the plot really doesn’t matter because it’s all about ass kicking and sometimes it is pretty impressive, but not almost two hours of impressive. Sorry, but I started checking my watch after awhile. After that 145th roundhouse kick to the head it starts to wear on you. Enter the Dragon is 98 minutes long, kids. Recognize.

NOTICE HOW NO ONE EVER PUKES IN THESE CABS

So, there’s finally a new edition of Taxicab Confessions and it’s back in New York where it all began. My favorites this time around were the two Irish guys, who should have no problem getting laid after this airs, they were so personable. I found a kindred spirit with one of them who, even while drunk and facing the prospect of sex with a stripper with DD breasts, could not be distracted from the fact that his friend was fucking up his new rug. Sorry, but you gotta have priorities. Some woman once wanted to pour vodka on my body and lick it off and all I could think of was my Donna Karan duvet (which I’d just washed) and Ralph Lauren comforter. Not to mention, she’d put an eight-inch scratch down my back (don’t ask) and when the vodka hit it, sex was the last thing on my mind. The couple that had been married 37 years but pretty much saying they probably wouldn’t do it again was fun and I found the overweight girl very sweet, but that guy was obviously gay. The Lower East Side couple was just disgusting and made the transsexual and her boyfriend height of sexual health. But the funniest had to be the brutha talking about how he likes crazy women, though he wasn’t down with the bisexual Hungarian girl who wanted him and another guy (“I’m not sharing no pussy with anybody.”). He was also very insightful when he said the key to marriage was to treat a wife like they you’re still dating. Shit. He could have been the star of Hitch.

DEATH OF A SALESMAN…PLAYWRIGHT, DRUMMER, SONGWRITER, ANIMATOR, ETC.

Death takes no holiday, taking out no less than Arthur Miller, a geek who got Marilyn Monroe and never, ever got over it. That’s the thing about writers. Sex is something they aren’t used to, much less sex with a beautiful woman, so it just messes up their minds. I mean after Monroe, did he really write anything great again? Also gone is one of the drummers from The Doobie Brothers and one of the Pixar designers who helped created Finding Nemo, Also, Merle Kilgore, who wrote “Ring of Fire” passed. Are you listening to me people!?! Entertain and you will die!

POOR LINDSAY WAGNER IS DOING SLEEP COMMERICALS AT 3 AM

Can I tell you how much I like Lee Majors in that IBM commercial? When is that show coming out on DVD? Time to relive the battle with Bigfoot that everyone was talking about in school the next day. Everyone!

ELECTRIC YOUTH, STEAM POWERED MIDDLE AGE

So, Playboy is on a roll with thirtysomething women, this time with the Britney Spears of the 80’s: Debbie Gibson. Yeah, Debbie Gibson is in Playboy this month trying to jumpstart her pop music career. Unfortunately, she didn’t learn from Jodi Whatley and Carnie Wilson and their layouts where they failed to get the cover, which means no one knew they were in the magazine. She was pushed aside for Paris Hilton. Yeah. That’s what the kids today call “being dissed.” But I had no idea she was 34. I was in college when her first hit single came out, so she always seemed like a little kid to me. Now I know she’s a peer (which, of course, makes me a bigger failure that I originally thought I was). The pictures are typical over-airbrushed Playboy and unlike Teri Polo, Debbie show us no bush (though her ass ain’t bad) which makes me wonder just what the point was of being in Playboy. Debbie you should have followed the path of Cathy Dennis. Remember, “Come And Get My Love”? “Just Another Dream”? “Touch Me All Night Long”? Well, these days she’s known better as one of the writers of Britney Spears’ “Toxic” (as well as background vocals) and Kylie Minogue’s “Can’t Get You Out of My Head.” Not to mention the American Idol Theme song. This woman is making money hand over fist and not breaking a sweat or showing what I remember was a damn nice body.

AND THEY CALL THE TWO’S TERRIBLE

My Sweet 16 is the latest MTV show to justify why people think we’re going to hell in a handbasket and why they just might be right. These are the worse fucking children you will ever see. They are spoiled and stupid and need to beaten with clubs. And the parents are totally to blame for not being the least bit more mature than their kids. The mother who starts doing shots at her kid’s party? The dad who shows up late to the same party? And no child on this planet needs a quarter-million dollar party. None. And the one bratty teen girl with a Jewish father (who is obviously old and cannot refuse his daughter anything because he knows his time with her is limited) and Muslim mother already had a fucking boob job. At 15! Who does that!?! And why not the fucking nose job she actually needed? You wonder where Paris Hilton came from? Now you know. And they have no shame. There have always been idle, decadent rich, but at least they once knew it was bad form to show the world (based on that whole Marie Antoinette incident). But this is all the nouveau riche. No old money would be dumb enough to let the world see them acting this way.

WHAT? NO CLAY AIKEN?

Trying to catch the music performances on the Grammy’s, because I could give a shit who wins…tired of the Black Eyed Peas…Gwen Stefani is hot, but that doesn’t save that stupid “Rich Girl” song…props to Los Lonely Boys for keeping it real and playing for real with no back up instruments or musicians. All you heard was them…and that annoying nasal whine was proof Maroon 5 was actually playing and singing too. And they didn’t bleep the lyric “keep her coming every night” the way they usually do. But I would have died laughing if he’d dropped that guitar…never got into Franz Ferdinand and the hype just made me more and more reluctant to even try…Alicia Keys trying much too hard to make her song into a big Diana Ross type of production. A minimalist direction would have served her much better. Now Jamie Foxx continues his Oscar campaign, but why didn’t he sing it like Ray Charles?…It’s nice that Nelly tries to dress like a grown up, but he still needs help. Adam Sandler perhaps accepts his limitations too much by not even trying…Whoa, they gave Prince a Grammy. He wasn’t there because everyone logically thought this would be the Usher awards. They forget. The Grammys will always be old. Prince is old, Usher is young. The winner was obvious…U2. I wish I could say I was more excited…Jennifer Lopez obviously does not pick her men on looks. Puffy, Ben Affleck and her corpse-looking third husband outnumber her first two somewhat attractive husbands. And girlfriend cannot sing, so just shake your ass and stick to dance songs…I was once riding in a car with my brother and sister-in-law and we started rattling off southern rock bands and it frightens me just how many I know. Sometimes I forget I grew up in the south. But Lynyrd Skynyrd is dead to me and Gretchen Wilson ain’t bringing them back…And is Elvin Bishop southern rock? He was much too soulful. And where the fuck is .38 Special? Mother’s Finest? Molly Hachet? Allman Brothers?…Can’t say I’ve had any interest in Green Day since their first album…Mavis Staples. Sorry, but this is one of the most overplayed songs in history and I just can’t listen to it any more. And I just don’t like Kanye West, period. Simply put, if there’s one thing that bores me even more than country, it’s gospel. And look at the standing ovation from the equally bored audience, doing so out of religious and racial guilt…I’m also not a disciple from the church of Janice Joplin, who was just a screaming drunk and if she weren’t white no one would care. I like Joss Stone, but she’s milking the “white girl who sounds black” thing a bit too much, especially since she doesn’t really sound so much Black as a White girl trying to sound Black. And Melissa Ethridge, who has made a career out of ripping off Janis Joplin, just sucks. Yeah, I’m sorry she’s got cancer, but it doesn’t make her suck any less…Jesus, country music. The worst thing is, I’ve heard this song before and I kinda like it. Shit. I hate being southern sometimes…I like John Mayer, but his songs tend to sound like something I’ve heard before. But damn, Lisa Marie Presley looked good again…isn’t funny and strange that none of these Beatles tributes ever involve Julian or Sean Lennon, who are both working musicians? And they simply fuck up “Across The Universe.” It’s a delicate song. It should sound like you’re hearing it in a dream. Lennon wrote it because it was in his head and he couldn’t sleep until he got it out…Usher’s fun to watch, but that “Caught Up” song is a rip of an old Jacksons’ song called “Walk Right Now.” And didn’t James Brown do this type of bit with Prince a decade or so back? Hell, he did it with Jimmy Fallon two years ago…see that Roll Call of Death? Long as hell and it’s just music people. But shit, I didn’t know the guitarist from The Zombies had died. They just reunited last year and from what I heard, still sounded great…Bonnie Raitt finally showing her age, so you know it’s actually more gray than red now.

BETTER LOOKING THAN YOU THEN, BETTER LOOKING THAN YOU NOW

Yes, that is Harry Belafonte almost 80 and still one of the best looking people walking this planet. He did some runway walking for Kenneth Cole for fashion week. Makes me want to throw my whole wardrobe out and only wear what Harry wears. But I know I just won’t look the same. Sigh.

“Why don’t you write books people can read?” --- Nora Joyce to her husband James

DARKNESS FALLS 2: THIS TIME IT’S A DUDE!

The Boogeyman opens at number one what the hell is going on with a scary movie opening every other week? This many horror flicks didn’t open at Halloween. And they’re all following the formula I told you about last week. There are also no poor people, minorities, big cities or new houses to be seen in this latest production. This time we’re taking the archetype of scary, The Boogeyman, the all-purpose scary used to terrify kids since forever. And who will defend us? Why none other than 7th Heaven’s own Barry Watson. Yeah, I’m not feeling any safer either. Apparently, The Boogeyman killed his dad but no one believes him. Wasn’t this already made as Darkness Falls? But in that case it was an evil Tooth Fairy who killed the pretty-boy lead’s mother and people thought he did it. He also had to return to his hometown to fight the evil, but it at least made sense then because the creature was a local legend. The Boogeyman is everywhere, so why is he making camp in this one small town? I distinctly remember the Boogeyman in both Georgia and Alabama as a kid, not to mention in college (of course that could have just been my roommate) and occasionally I hear him bumping around in my closet today, putting my comics out of order, which for a geek is the ultimate horror. The Boogeyman is everywhere at all times. Treating him as anything less clues you in that less-than-imaginative people were involved with this movie. And while I haven’t seen the movie, the simple fact that there are two girls, one his current girlfriend from the big city and one his childhood friend still in the small town, we know what’s going to happen to the big city girl. And if you’re wondering why I know so much about Darkness Falls, it’s because they ran it to death on Starz and I pretty much saw the whole thing in two-minute increments.

WILL IS SO MUCH BETTER LOOKING

The Wedding Date opens at number two and I had to see it because 1) it’s a romantic comedy, and 2) Debra Messing is in it. You shut up! I love her and I won’t apologize! Finally she’s starring in a movie. Yeah, it’s as lame and cliché-ridden as it can be, but it looks pretty and is only 80 minutes long. I don’t know who first created the “fake date that you fall for” idea, but if he or she could get residuals, they would be the richest writer in the history of film. Actually, the second richest, right behind the guy who created “they killed his partner/family and now he’s out for revenge.” In any case, she’s hired an escort to take to her sister’s wedding where her ex-fiancée is the best man. Now, I like Dermot Mulroney as an actor and any man getting paid to make out with Debra Messing and then going home to Catherine Keener is obviously smarter than I am, but for six grand wouldn’t you want someone better looking? He looks like Keanu Reeves’ ugly brother. Who would pay this guy for dick? I mean aside from the B&T Girl screaming out how hot he was when I saw it? (I broke my own rule and saw it opening night right after work, thinking I’d be alone and wound up with every single woman and her girlfriends in midtown). To her credit, in the first five minutes of the movie, Debra Messing plays a character so annoying so you can believe only money would get you near her, but that’s not what you want in a romantic protagonist, no? Basically this movie is “Four Weddings & A Funeral” without the wit. It’s sure pretty enough. I never cease to be amazed at shots of England with sunshine and blue skies. But in the post-Bridget Jones world, you’d think they’d have tried to give this one a little bit more of an edge. I mean, Debra Messing is worldly enough to hire a hooker, but when they are forced to share a bed together (after she’s already seen his dick) she acts like some silly virginal type, putting up a divider of pillows between them. But later when she gets drunk and wants some sex, she’s got no problem getting cash advances on her credit card (he told her sex would be extra) and then just pretty much taking what she wants. Needless to say, Dermot Mulroney falls for her, but we’re giving no clue as to why because we don’t know a thing about him. He claims to have a degree in Comparative Literature from Brown, but we’re never really sure if he’s lying or not. And their chemistry is zero. Zero. If you thought her hookup with Gregory Hines was boring, this borders of somnambulistic. Oddly, the film has some darkness to it all and while I love the 80 minute running time, I would have be willing to take another twenty to explain a bit more about the characters. Debra Messing’s family lives in England, but have no accents, including her younger sister, who was apparently born and raised there. Also, we don’t know what happened to her biological father or why they were in England to begin with. If the movie were funnier, you wouldn’t care, but it’s not, so you do.

A UNKNOWN BASTARD SON WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER

Are We There Yet is down to number three, followed by Hide & Seek at number four and if you’ve seen the new commercials, you know the “big secret” of the movie, which is no secret at all and pretty much the most obvious plot development possible.

YEAH, YOU’RE GOOD JOHN, BUT WE NEED MORE MILK BOTTLES

Million Dollar Baby is down to number five, followed by The Aviator at number six and oddly enough the former supporting actor dujour, John C. Reilly is in this to little notice and it’s a shame to waste an actor who can do so much. But again, god forbid we cut down that “he’s going crazy” scene. Yes, I’m going to rag on it until this film goes away.

NO ONE IS LOOKING FOR A SEQUEL TO THE MIRROR HAS TWO FACES

Meet The Fockers is down to number seven and I cannot believe this fucking thing is pushing $300M. Look for the Ben Stiller “Theater of Pain” where he plays humiliated characters to continue and for Robert DeNiro to continue making lots and lots of bad comedies (and bad movies in general) and for Barbara Streisand to think it’s all because of her and begin an ill-advised movie comeback. Babs, honey, you’re not the star here. That’s why it works. Same for you, Teri, in your next sitcom. Let someone else carry the load this time around.

SCENES FROM THE CLASS STRUGGLE IN BEVERLY HILLS

Sideways is down to number eight and yes, Paul Giamatti was fucked, fucked, fucked in the Best Actor category, with Leonardo DiCaprio’s lame performance taking his spot. But not to worry, he’ll win all the indie film awards. Besides, even if he had gotten it, he still would have just been an A-list supporting actor, never a lead. Never, ever a lead. Sorry, but he’s too ugly. George Clooney wanted the supporting role of the idiot actor friend, but the director thought he’d be too distracting. I don’t think so. It would have been a perfect role for him because it was almost his fate before e.r. saved his ass. As I said one of the reasons I didn’t rush out to see this was because I so hated About Schmidt and one of the things I really hated about it was how the director/screenwriter Alexander Payne changed the book from Long Island to the Midwest so he could seemingly rag on those people (in the book Schmidt was a Wall Street guy and so was his future son-in-law). It was so obviously looking down its nose at people who didn’t know brie is better than Velveeta. Obviously, he’s got some issues to work out, considering he is a Midwesterner and swears up and down it was “a tribute” to his home. I don’t know what they teach you at Stanford, but obviously the definition of “tribute” is somewhat different. Well, his class consciousness is on display again here and again with a movie based on a book he did not write. It’s minor, but there are very obvious moments of “look at this shit these stupid people like, not like us sophisticates” with a visit to crass vineyard and a crass restaurant. Well, let me tell you something, buddy. You live in fucking LA and what exactly do think that means to those of us who live in Manhattan? Don’t throw stones in your glass house. And processed American cheese has its place, goddamnit!

THE END

Racing Stripes is down to number nine, followed by Coach Carter, taking a freaking dive to number ten. What the fuck? People fell out of love with this quick.

I HAVE BALLS…I JUST KEEP THEM SAFE AT HOME IN A JAR

So Star Trek woman kicked my ass again. The first time she wiped the floor with me at pool, this time it was at free throws at the ESPN Sportsbar at 42nd Street. If I were a different person, this would be incredibly humiliating, because you have to understand, Star Trek Woman is an Asian woman standing little over five feet. I’m a Black man who lost at basketball to an Asian woman. Luckily, I’m used to violating Black stereo stereotypes (small penis, I like to eat pussy, etc.), so it wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. Nonetheless, I used to play basketball and until everyone started growing but me, I was somewhat decent at it. Even as I was shooting a basketball for the first time in over twenty years, I could feel all the old techniques coming back----but she still smoked my ass like a back of cigarettes. And don’t think she didn’t enjoy the hell out of it. I think this is part of an organized campaign to break me as a man for calling her “Star Trek Woman” but such conventional measures aren’t going to get very far with a man who has a subscription to In Style. I’m beyond ordinary male shame. My sisters (those my parents gave me and those I made myself) do more damage ripping my fashion sense. I can barely shop alone anymore thanks to my fears of what they’ll say.

HE’S ON DOUBLE SECRET PROBATION IN HEAVEN NOW

Death’s rampage of creative types continues with Ossie Davis. My roommate was cast in a play with Ossie, by Ossie, who later changed his mind telling her, “I owe you one.” Guess that’s gonna have to be paid off in his next life. John Vernon is also dead. He was best known as the dean from Animal House, but to geeks like me, he did a lot of cartoon voices and stood out as the voice of Tony Stark, a.k.a., Iron Man and Prince Namor, The Sub Mariner. Also gone are the drummer from Traffic and the guy who sang “Tell Laura I Love Her.” And while he wasn’t creative, he was somewhat famous. Max Schmeling also died and most people were surprised to know he was still alive (ironically, an actor who played Joe Louis also died).

SATURDAY NIGHT’S ALL RIGHT FOR FIGHTING…OVER BOARD GAMES

So, I’d planned on spending Saturday night upgrading my site and writing this, but I was shanghaied (“I’m in my car on the 59th Street bridge. Get dressed and meet me downstairs.”) by a small contingent of my geek girls for a small, impromptu housewarming party for one of them who just moved from what we can delicately call a “hovel” on East 14th street to a lovely two bedroom on the 23rd floor in Battery Park City. She’s on the southwest corner of the building which means she has not one, but two beautiful views of the southern tip of Manhattan, the Hudson, New Jersey and the Statue of Liberty. In the southwest corner she’s placed a couch and considering how large the windows are, I had to break it down and tell her, “This is your fuck couch. A lot of very picturesque sex can be had on this couch.” Sorry, but how rare is it you get sex with a view? If you see anything at all, it’s usually the face of the sweaty drunk person above or below you and what is that compared to a sunrise or sunset from 23 stories up on the Hudson? Yeah, I know what you’re saying, but let me tell you flat out, neither you nor the person you’re fucking is that attractive. We wound up playing that movie trivia game you’ve seen on commercials and what started out as a friendly game soon descended into a cutthroat competition amounting to combined effort of the others to merely stop me from winning, which they did do. Bitches. I blame the three or four bottles of champagne consumed.

MAYBE NEXT YEAR

I love football, but a six-hour pregame show? Hell, the game is only three hours. Does anyone love football that much? I ignored all of that, not to mention the 2nd pregame show with the national anthem and salute to WWII vets. But I did check out Alicia Keys doing “America “and refusing to de-butch herself for such an event. She’s been wearing a lot of dresses recently and looking very uncomfortable. Did anyone find the Muppets Pizza Hut commercial twisted? I mean Miss Piggy eating pepperoni pizza? Ew. And it is all about the commercials. The game is unimportant. The FedEx commercial gets points for attacking other commercials, but they should have been meaner about it. I liked seeing Cindy Crawford in the Pepsi commercial but Carson from Queer Eye was even funnier. I hated pretty much everyone in the one with P. Diddy. Sleaze is still here this year with Godaddy, which blew. The “Sharon” Bud Light commercial was funny (“Yeah, she’s sharing.”). My god, does Gladys Knight really need money that badly to do that lame commercial? The Lay’s commercial with MC Hammer was funny too, but it peaked with “My dad’s ’72 Impala.” Probably the only thing better than seeing Gwen Stefani in the Pepsi commercial was the actress who was first dancing to her song in the kitchen. Damn. The superhero Capital One commercial sucked because the costumes sucked. Batman, Batman, Batman. I have to give Brad Pitt some credit, he’s actually making commercials for release in this country. I don’t know why these fuckers think making commercials for overseas use only makes them less of a sell-out. I mean, if a hooker only turns tricks when she’s in Europe and not when she’s in America where she lives, is she suddenly not a whore? Paul McCartney is one of those people who have done so much good work, they can slack off for the rest of their lives---and that’s what he’s doing. And can you really overplay and Beatles song? But where are Ringo Star and Billy Preston? What the fuck else do they have to do not to be there? And there are no really good ads after Half-Time (that Emerald Nuts commercial about the guy and his daughter was creepy and should have been subtitled “How to Make Your Daughter Into a Slut”) so now it’s just the game. Sigh. We knew New England was going to win, but the Eagles might have actually beaten the odds if they---oh, I don’t know---HURRY THE FUCK UP AND GET BACK TO THE LINE OF SCRIMAGE WHEN YOU KNOW YOU’RE OUT OF TIMES OUTS!!! They lost at least a minute or two with that in the fourth quarter. And half a dozen interceptions didn’t help. Oh, well. This means my time of being a man is pretty much over until September and it’s back to ripping what actresses wear to awards shows. Speaking of which, Cate Blanchett looked great on the SAG Awards, so did Teri Hatcher, but Rosario Dawson, Kate Winslet and Hilary Swank all need to invest in good bras to emphasize what you do have and hide what you do not.

SUDDENLY ALL THOSE T-SHIRTS ON ST. MARKS PLACE MAKE SENSE

Now, what happened to that actress was horrible and tragic, but let us not forget what makes a tragedy. It’s not just something bad happening, it’s something bad happening that was almost avoided. Romeo waits five seconds and he and Juliet live happily ever after. It’s inches that make it such an immense tragedy, not feet. And this poor woman would be here now if not for “What are you going to do, shoot us!?!’ Sorry, but that’s the difference between real New Yorkers and immigrants like me who just think they’re New Yorkers. When you’re really street smart, you don’t say shit like that to the man with the gun. Even guys in the mob would’ve kept their mouths shut. Even the people behind MacGruff the Crime Dog said it was dumb. And what kind of life is her fiancée going to have now? Your girl was killed while you were getting pistol-whipped. If he’s got any balls at all, he’s got try and kill the guy in the courtroom. It’s the only way. I’m sure banging a bongo drum at her memorial ceremony helped (I’m not kidding; that was part of it), but true closure requires a manly act of violence. And then you get into these kids that did it. My favorite has to be the one whose dad is an ex-cop. He lives in Maryland with his second wife and his new family and blames his ex-wife for his daughter being led astray. Bear in mind, he had the girl at one point but sent her back to her mother because he couldn’t control her. Yeah, the remarried ex-cop father couldn’t do the job but he somehow expected single mom to do it on her own. Sigh.

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