"Exercise is the most awful illusion. The secret is a lot of aspirin and marron glaces." --- Noel Coward.
DRIVE, SHE SAID
Driven opens at number one and the best thing I can say about it is that it’s better than Days of Thunder. The key to its banality can be found in four little words: written by Sylvester Stallone. It’s the cruelest irony that the one thing that put him on top is one thing that keeps him down. Stallone wrote Rocky, which made him a star. Now, he continues to write for himself and it’s going to take all that away. This is a movie that sounds like it was made thirty or forty years ago, when realism was the last thing you went to the movies for---but even then it would have sucked. Stallone has at least one bad heartfelt speech with every single character in this movie, where he claims to take a "backseat" to younger actors. Please. If you added up total screen time, he’s onscreen more than anyone else is. The story is supposedly about two racecar drivers; one the world champion (Til Schweiger) and the other, a young upstart (Kip Pardue) gaining on him. Things are supposedly complicated when the champion dumps his fiancée (Estella Warren—yet another model with no discernable waistline), who then begins hanging around the young upstart. I say "supposedly" because this fails even the basic rules of a love triangle, namely that she loves both men. Hell, I don’t even think Estella Warren and Kip Pardue even kiss. All the other cliches (the older driver finding redemption, the cold driver learning to open up, the young driver learning to cope) are all as ineffectively handled. On set, Burt Reynolds and Stallone had a running gag about all the bad movies they’ve both made. Well, they can add one more to that list. Still, the racing scenes are great and almost worth putting up with the rest of this crap. Well, the racing scenes and Gina Gershon, who again seems to only person who knows the only way to play a bad movie is over the top.
ONE-TWO PUNCH. OR IS IT TWO-THREE?
Bridget Jones’s Diary is down to number three, followed by Spy Kids at number four, giving Miramax the two most successful films on this list. Though I liked them both, I’m morally opposed to anything that gives Harvey Weinstein more money to buy more Academy Awards votes.
SOMEWHERE, HALLE BERRY IS CRYING
Along Came A Spider is down to number four and do you think that, after two successful movies with a popular literary (and I use that word loosely) character, could Morgan Freeman’s next young female costar possibly be Black? Nope, me either.
OTHER NUMBERS
Crocodile Dundee is down to number five, followed by Blow at number six.
THIS FILM BROUGHT TO YOU IN PART BY VIAGRA
Town & Country opens at number seven and the quote of the week goes to my friend who got me into the Bridget Jones’s Diary screening, who remarked that "When they made this, Goldie Hawn looked like Kate Hudson." Damn. I hate it when someone has a better line than me. This movie was made about three or four years ago and has been on the shelf then because it sucked so much the first time, they needed to do reshoots, but couldn’t because the all-star cast had moved on to other projects. At least that’s the company line. They’re all about denying that Warren Beatty’s perfectionism had anything to do with this, though the very bitter director has already let this slip. Why is anyone afraid of this man? Please. Like anyone gives a shit was a 63-year old ass bandit thinks. When was his last fucking hit? In fact, every single member of the cast is in desperate need of a hit. Only the token young person, Josh Harnett (I’m secure enough in my sexuality to tell you he’s hot) will survive, but the rest of them…see you on CBS after the strike.
BLOOD & SAND
The pretty-boy vampire movie genre gets one more entry in The Forsaken. I couldn’t be bothered to see this either. Not that I’d find it scary, it’s just that I’m tired of the whole pretty boy vampire idea. What, no ugly guys ever get turned into vampires? Same goes for ugly girls. Do they starve to death because they can’t seduce victims the way the good-looking ones can? And what the hell are vampires doing in the middle of the desert anyway? No people and lots of sunlight---that’s genius at work. I get the feeling this movie was made by someone who saw Lost Boys (bad) and Near Dark (good) too many times.
A BRIGHT MOVE
Joe Dirt is down to number nine and how happy is David Spade that he took that gig on Just Shoot Me?
FIRST OF ALL, THE TITLE SUCKS…
One Night At McCool’s opens at number ten and continues the career suicide theme of this week’s releases. I didn’t see it because the simple fact that both John Goodman and Paul Reiser are in it (not to mention Andrew Dice Clay) is essentially a guarantee that it sucks. Judging by the box office, others felt the same way. And note that there is no less than 13 years between Liv Tyler and the age of the nearest male co-star (Matt "Fountain of Youth" Dillon is 37). Apparently you can’t be a seductress if you’re over 30. Given that Michael Douglas produced it, is it really that much of a surprise? He probably forbade that anyone over 25 even be allowed to audition. Now that I think about it, let’s add both Matt Dillon and Liv Tyler to that bad movie list. Outside of That Thing You Do, name one good movie she’s made and she was only a costar in that (Matt Dillon makes one good movie for three bad ones). To top it off, she looks too much like her father for me to even pretend she’s pretty. Only Michael Douglas, has more hits than misses---but he’s still creepy.
ERIN GO DROP THE DOPE RYHYMES
Rather than waste my time at more bad movies (or reading), I instead stayed home to watch The Nephew on cable. Produced by Pierce Brosnan and featuring him in a supporting role with his native Irish accent (yes, James Bond really isn’t a Brit), it’s the story of a half-Black, half-Irish kid who journeys to his mother’s home in Ireland after her death to meet his only surviving family, only to stir up the past. A decent enough little movie (a very effective scene is when he's tricked into singing at a wake, only to bring the room to near tears by singing an Irish standard his mother taught him), it unfortunately had the effect of reminding me of my mean, little, redheaded Irish ex-girlfriend (who delighted in pointing out she was really Irish, as opposed to the Irish-Americans she hated). No, I’m not still bitter after all these years and I genuinely hope her breast implants aren’t causing her any problems.
NEW MEMBER OF THE JOHN DEREK CLUB OF CONSTANTLY DATING THE SAME WOMAN
Wanna hear something creepy? Dennis Leary’s wife actually looks like Elizabeth Hurley. Now, does this throw doubt on the idea that he cheated or does it make it perfect sense? Is his wife hurt or complimented by this---or both?
DON’T GO WITH GOD; JUST GO
So a couple of missionaries were shot down by the Peruvian military. I feel sorry for the kids that were on board, but that’s it. I’ve no love for missionaries. Sure they help people, but at a price and that price is your culture and religion. Sure, you’ve lived in a tropical paradise in peace for a thousand years, but what is that compared to finally realizing that being naked in 80 degree weather is wrong and that sex is dirty? That’s the joy that missionaries bring.
WILL THE LOVE THAT DARE NOT SPEAK ITS NAME PLEASE SHUT UP!?!
So the desperate lesbian kiss version episode of Friend aired. I taped it while I went swimming. It sucked. Winona Ryder needs a new agent slightly less than she needs a new haircut. This is such a lame, flimsy, now-cliched idea, that it was worth nothing more than a throwaway line in the much superior Will & Grace last year (a comment about Grace’s "experimentation" in college). Speaking of which, after an endless series of lame episodes after the great one-hour episode in February, a good episode of Will & Grace finally aired. Too bad Woody Harrelson was in it. I’ve tried to like him, I did, but it’s no use.
THANK GOD THE RERUNS WILL END UP ON LIFETIME, WHERE NO ONE WILL SEE THEM
I love Taye Diggs, but I just cannot suffer through another episode of Ally McBeal. It sucks so badly! How can anyone sit through this shit!?! And will you people finally give up on Robert Downey Jr.,!?! How many other drug addicts could have been saved with a tenth of the effort given to this asshole? And I’m tired of this "he’s so talented" crap. He has played the same role he played in Less Than Zero for the last 15 years---and now we know he wasn’t really acting when he did that!
MUSIC/MAKES THE PEOPLE/WANT TO VOMIT
The "Lady Marmalade" remake sucks. Is it just me, or have their efforts to pump it up using electric guitar make is sound like they’ve sampled a guitar riff from "Carry On’ by Kansas. You know, "duh-duh-duh-duh/duh-duh-duh-duh/duh-duh/duh-duh-duh/duh-duh/duh-duh…" And it’s getting harder and harder to defend Christina Aguilera. On MTV’s Making of the Video, both Pink (who later referred to the foursome as the "Four Whores of the Apocalypse") and especially Mya had problems with dressing up like hookers and no one was stupid enough to even ask Missy (Lil Kim doesn’t count because she’s always dressed like a whore). Only Christina Aguilera, with legs that no one but someone who loves her should see, was babbling on about "girl power" and seemed to get into acting extra skanky. Sigh. However, I’m sticking to my theory that real bad girls don’t try this hard. Only someone who wants to be seen as bad goes so far over the top.
NEVER-NEVER-NEVERMIND
Lighthouse is the latest bastard child of Kurt Cobain and in the same way I like the pretty boy version of Nirvana known as Bush, I like these guys too. American Hi-Fi is also satisfying my three chord pop needs. Could this be the return of non-hip hop influenced guitar rock? Keep dreaming. Lit, Creed and the Foo Fighters combined couldn’t equal half of what Destiny’s Child or Brittney Spears sells in a week. Sweet harmonies have always beaten crunch riffs and always will.
HERE HE COMES, HERE COMES SPEED RACER
Just discovered the Alpha Team remix of the Speed Racer theme, where they use all the "oh’s" and "ah’s" Speed and the aptly named Trixie made in the course of an episode to make it seem like they’re fucking. It ends with Trixie saying, "Speed, you were wonderful."
ANARCHY IN THE NYC
After two hours of walking the Village alone looking for shoes (Chasing Amy flaked on me), I finally gave up on looking for something semi-stylish and went with long-lasting and practical. Yes, almost twenty years after the rest of my generation, I now own a pair of Doc Martens. Ten-holes ("The only way, mate" as my English friend tells me). I then had to spend the weekend listening to The Clash and complaining about Margaret Thatcher. Right now, there’s a married couple in Massachusetts who can’t stop smiling.
KURT RUSSELL CANNOT STOP SMILING
Speaking of Goldie Hawn, did I ever mention I once worked with a woman whose childhood friend had wound up a prostitute in Hollywood and loved to gossip? She had no problem sharing that Kurt and Goldie liked to hire her for threeways. Is Kurt Russell the luckiest man in the world or what?
WE HAVE SO MUCH IN COMMON/WE’VE BOTH BEEN SO OPPRESSED/WE BOTH HAVE BIG NOSES/AND WEAR GOLD CHAINS ON OUR CHESTS…
A jock is anti-Semitic? The fact that his tiny brain can produce enough energy to move his huge body is a miracle in itself. Why are you surprised that it’s incapable of coherent thought? The irony is, no one loves basketball more than a 5’6" Jewish guy. If Jews stopped going to Knicks’ games, the place would be empty.
SENIOR SPUNK
Speaking of Warren Beatty, a new study shows that men don’t have their entire lives to wait and have children. Old sperm is deformed and can cause schizophrenia in the children it produces. It’s surmised that literally one quarter of all the schizophrenia in the world is a result of old sperm. So, Warren, was banging Stephanie Seymour at 50 worth one of your kids have four personalities?
COME HOME, SNOOPY, COME HOME.
Finally, yes, that was my puppy. His name was G.Q. and when I went away to visit the NYU campus, my family lost him. He was a pedigree and we’d studded him, so I was able later to get his granddaughter, Asia, who was burgundy. By then, however, I was actually in college and while I was away, they lost her too. I haven’t had a dog sense. Oh, they got another cocker spaniel, a black one named Najee, but he’s not my dog. Besides, he’s got a recurring ear infection that constantly makes him smell like rotting flesh.
4/23/2001
"Women should be obscene and not heard." --- Groucho Marx
PRINCESS DI’S FACE LOOKS A LOT BETTER ON HER SON THAN IT EVER DID ON HER.
As I predicted last week, an increase in screens has pushed Bridget Jones’s Diary to number one. Also, every kid in America has seen Spy Kids (now at number two) at least twice already. Making a surprise appearance in this Bridget Jones’s is none other than Pussy Galore herself, Honor Blackman, joining Lois "Moneypenny" Maxwell in keeping alive the idea that Englishwomen do not age well. And I know why thanks to a friend of the Young Married Couple, who went to Iceland to do a documentary. Now, if you know anything about Iceland, you know it’s a geneticist’s wet dream because the gene pool is unchanged since the time of the Vikings. Correction: the MALE gene pool is unchanged since the time of the Vikings. When the Vikings would raid England, Ireland and Scotland, they’d take all the best-looking women. The end result of this attrition is a country where someone like Posh Spice (the really skinny brunette with the pug face) is considered beautiful. The few Elizabeth Weisz’s and Kate Beckinsale’s are undoubtedly the result of England’s own pillaging of literally every other culture on the planet to replenish its stock. See, that’s the real reason behind British Imperialism. It wasn’t money or power they were after. It was just one day the king looked around and said, "Damn, we need some good looking broads around here. Get the ships ready. We’re invading France…again."
"BOBBY, IS THAT YOU?"
Along Came A Spider is down to number three and I guessed two out of the three "twists" at the end of the movie. Unfortunately, the third twist completely negates almost the entire film, making you think, "Hey, that was all a waste of time." Kind of like that season on Dallas that turned out to be a dream.
LIKE KICKING A DEAD KANGEROO.
Crocodile Dundee in LA opens at number four and someone obviously has a house payment to make. Why does this exist? If you were going to make it at all, shouldn’t it have been done a decade ago, right after the second movie? And Paul Hogan looks awful. There are few things worse than old, wrinkled, leathery tanned skin.
HOW CAN GOD ALLOW THIS?
Freddy Got Fingered opens at number five and I have seen fewer trailers that looked as unfunny as this one (okay, the "Daddy, would you like some sausage?" bit did get a giggle out of me, but that’s it). I’m not 13, so I fail to understand the appeal of Tom Greene. I can’t believe no one has kicked his skinny ass yet. And I don’t think Drew Barrymore married beneath herself. I believe water seeks its own level. She really couldn’t do any better. All you Drew lovers can kiss my ass. She’s right up with Julia Roberts on my list of people who are popular for reasons that completely escape me. Don’t give me this crap about her being comfortable being "larger" than the average Hollywood waif. She’s still skinner than the average person. And I notice this didn’t stop her from having the poster for Charlie’s Angels airbrushed to make herself look skinnier (she was one of the producers, so she had a choice). Rumor also has it that digital effects did the same for her within the movie.
BACK IN FRANK AND DINO’S DAY, BIMBOS WOULD GET DRUNK AND DROWN IN THE POOL. NOW, THEY JUST HANG AROUND.
Blow is down to number six, followed by Joe Dirt at number seven. Why am I not surprised, that in a movie about white trash, Jamie Pressly makes an appearance (there is actually a movie called Poor White Trash and she’s in it)? I’d say the clock was ticking for her one-note bimbodim, but Carmen Electra is still here, Pamela Anderson is still here and Jenny McCarthy has a sitcom coming. Jeez, you know Kari Wurher must be pissed. She’s been as pathetic and naked as all of them. Does anyone but me remember that godawful show on Fox called Class of ’99? She was on that---playing a freshman. Unfortunately, it was a lame show about overly earnest and articulate young people before Dawson’s Creek made it acceptable to be lame, overly articulate and earnest.
THE SEQUEL WILL BE ABOUT MY VIDEO GAME ADDICTION
Kingdom Come is down to number eight, but at a cost of only $7M with little to no advertising, this is an easy money maker. That seems to be par the course for Black films. If you can make them for under $10M you’ll make money. Coming soon: my $25 epic about a man caught between filling his closet with porn or filling his closet with comic books. I’ll either call it "IF SMUT BE MY DESTINY!" or "THIS MAN, THIS FUNNY BOOK."
WEAKNESS # 134: CATCHY POP MUSIC; WEAKNESS # 135: BLACK VINYAL HIP BOOTS
Josie & The Pussycats is tanking and nothing makes me happier. This means that Archies movie probably won’t get made (much less The U.S. of Archie). I won’t even get into how the people behind the still-in-production Scooby Doo are now shitting in their pants. The sad fact is the songs really aren’t that bad. The real musicians behind it are Matthew Sweet, Bif and the lead singer from Letters to Cleo (did you really think Rachel Leigh Cook could do a Gwyneth Paltrow and actually sing?). Babyface has many flaws (producing this thing was one of them), but making bad pop music ain’t one of them. He makes a cameo as The Chief, one third of what was once The Chief, The Captain and Tennille in a Behind The Music spoof.
LIKE THE DONNER PARTY, THEY SIMPLY HAD NO CHOICE
Finally, what the hell is Enemy At The Gates still doing here at number ten? Who is still seeing this? Then again, in a top ten filled with the likes of Joe Dirt, Freddy Got Fingered and Josie & The Pussycats, I think the answer speaks for itself.
NOT THE CENTER OF MY WORLD, BUT A LITTLE WAYS DOWN THE ROAD FROM IT.
Not breaking the top ten is The Center of The World, an examination of sex, money, power and alienation in our computerized world. Not, it’s not French, though its use of sex to depress you is a common French practice (anyone but me sit through the hardcore tedium of Romance?). It’s about a silicon valley millionaire who pays a stripper (played by Molly Parker, who I last saw having sex with corpses in a movie called Kissed---time for a new agent, honey) $10K to spend three days with him in Vegas. Her rules are no kissing, no emotions and no penetration---which happen to be my rules as well, only no one is paying me. Needless to say, all the rules are broken, but because this is A SERIOUS MOVIE ABOUT SEX, no one really enjoys any of it. Don’t even get me started on the clumsy plot machinations. When the stripper’s friend in Vegas shows up complaining about a rich guy she was sleeping with who suddenly got violent (apparently, she ejaculated once and when she couldn’t do it again, he went nuts), only an idiot would miss what’s coming between our two protagonists. Thankfully, it’s a short movie clocking in at 86 minutes, but I was still checking my watch. The bulk of the publicity of this film comes from the fact that it’s unrated and has an elaborate website. The fact that it’s unrated comes a scene less than 15 minutes in, when a stripper puts a Tootsie pop in her vagina, then into the mouth of a patron. Sorry, but I’m not doing that for a woman I know, much less a freaking stripper. The website has that same stripper---porn star Alisha Klass, who is getting a little notoriety from the fact that she’s currently doing Bruce Willis, who likes to call her "Demi" in bed---with a new type of software that’s supposed to interact with you. I tried it with Professor Woman, who dropped in on me from Arizona for a few days for some intelligensia event at our alma mater of NYU (she also tells me that a proper noun ending with an "S’ can have an apostrophe "S"). Professor Woman had taken a new interest in strippers, having been fascinated by her first time viewing of D-String Divas. When I asked what I should try with the virtual woman on the website, the first thing out of the Ph.D. sitting next to me was, "Tell her to show you her cunt. That’s what guys want, right?" She’s teaching America’s youth, people. Anyway, the software is still very limited and she pretty much starts masturbating no matter what you tell her to do. I was back downloading songs in no time.
RACHEL LEIGH COOK SYNDROME
So what’s up with this beer commercial with two guys and a bouncing bed? Do gay guys drink that much beer that beer companies are now…what? That’s a girl? You’re kidding me! Never mind.
MACHO, MACHO MAN/I WANT TO BE A MACHO MAN!
So, I broke one of the slats on my bed and needed to fix it. In a burst of pure masculinity, I went to the hardware store and bought pieces of metal and nuts and bolts. Yeah! Then I used the power drill to put holes in the wood around the break (okay, so it was my roommate’s power drill, but she wasn’t around to do it for me). Then, with sweat on my brow thanks to Spring finally arriving, I screwed the bolts in, then fastened on the nuts! Job done! Bed repaired! Yeah, baby! Now I need a beer! Is the game on yet!?! Where’s dinner, bitch!?! Hey, nice shoes! Damn. I was almost there.
ANOTHER RARE BURST OF TESTOSTERONE
Can I tell you how upset I am that the Atlanta Falcons traded Tim Dwight along with future draft picks to San Diego to get Michael Vick?
THE MOTHER TO US ALL
So Joey Ramone died. To quote Dorothy Parker upon hearing of the death of Calvin Coolidge, "How can they tell?"
CAN A GEEK GET A LAP DANCE?
Okay, so you’re probably wondering about that picture. First off, let me tell you that I’ve only been to three strip bars in my life (Chasing Amy wants to make it four, but since she failed to help me shop for shoes last week, I’m going to pout and veto that). The first was when I was home from college and my buddy, who’d just discovered them, insisted that I join him. It was a skanky joint called "The Purple Onion" where our homecoming queen was rumored to have danced at one point (imagine Halle Berry with even larger breasts and you have an idea of what our homecoming queen looked like and why this rumor was so popular). I had no idea what he saw in the place. It was nasty and so were the women. The second trip was to Goldfingers here in Manhattan, during the great strip club boom of the late 80’s and early 90’s, when it was suddenly chic to go to titty bars. It was back when I actually used to male bond until the homophobia just rubbed me the wrong way. It was an amazing place—huge and filled with lights, fog-machines, chrome and at least three stages that I counted. This was where I learned why men go to strip and why I could never return. She was 5’11" and most of it was legs and if she’d asked me for my soul, I’d have given it to her, much less the piddling change I had in my pocket. Thank goodness I had no money to give---unlike the creepy Latin men with too much hairspray and too much leather who took her away from me. My final strip club visit happened during my year of unemployment (a.k.a., My Favorite Year) when Heather Hunter came out of retirement for the first time (she didn’t know how nice being in porn was until she tried the music business). I went with a buddy of mine who was a deviant in his own right (he religiously only watched all girl porn) and therefore was the only person who would go with me. I couldn’t go alone, because, let’s face it: the only thing worse than going to a strip bar, is going to a strip bar alone. We saw her dance at Legz Diamond which was how I knew she was there. Putting a strip club near the Unemployment Office is pure brilliance. In any case, we saw her dance and quite frankly, the best part of it was showing people the picture later, because it was actually kinda dull. I mean, she’s just working and I know she’s just working. She just happens to be working naked. If there were no money involved, she’d no more be dancing naked than I’d be getting up in the morning and wearing slacks. Anyway, after the dance, I had to take a picture with her (for $20 of course). I dutifully sat on couch making room for her when she asked, "Can I sit in your lap?" I had no idea her legs were spread, I swear. If I did, I’d probably still be in jail.
4/16/2001
"If you don’t disagree with me, how will I know I’m right?" --- Samuel Goldwyn
ALL BABIES ARE NOT CUTE
Still in the number one slot is Spy Kids and not to be cruel, because they’re only children, but there is no way two people as attractive as Antonio Banderas and Carla Gugino could have children…not quite as attractive. Yeah, they might grow out of it, but if you’ve ever seen pictures of beautiful people as children, you’ll find that the "ugly duckling" myth is just that: a myth. Pretty people were always pretty. It’s why they’re so fucked up as adults. They’ve spent an entire life getting by on their looks.
BLACK LIKE ME
Along Came A Spider holds at number two and how ironic is it that while every young white actress in Hollywood was jockeying to be in a movie with Morgan Freeman, every young Black actress knew better than to even try? To his credit, as executive producer, Morgan Freeman does what he can to populate the cast with as many people of color as possible, but not in that heavy handed way that many so-called "Black films" do, where every fucking person of any type of authority is played by a semi-known Black actor in a cameo. "Oh, look the mayor is black…and so is the chief of police…and the head of the C.I.A…and so is the Swiss Ambassador." Jeez.
LEARN THE LANGUAGE, YOU LIMEY BASTARDS
Bridget Jones’s Diary opens at number three and my problem starts right there. "Jones’s!?!" Now, I was always taught that when a word ends with an "s" and needs to be possessive, all you need is an apostrophe, but this has an apostrophe "s" (I was also taught that periods and exclamation points go within quotation marks and outside the parenthesizes, but that’s a lesson for another day). I was told that in England it’s acceptable and since it is their language, I guess I have to accept it, but it still rubs me the wrong way. That said, I loved this movie and I’ve seen it twice (first I got to see a work print thanks to a friend who had a friend at Miramax). Please spare me your surprise. How many times must I express my love of romantic comedies!?! This joins the ranks of Four Weddings & A Funeral and Sliding Doors (I refuse to have Notting Hill in my house) of movies that actually make England look attractive. Having never read the book, I can only judge the movie, but it survives the casting of Renee Zellwiger in the title role, but if that’s the new idea of fat, then we’re all in trouble because she looks normal. Her accent holds up and I even brought along a friend from England to get a final judgement (she concurred, but commented that she stressed the "t" a bit too hard). In fact, the place was crawling with Brits out to see how one of their more recent icons turned out in the hands of an American actress. Hugh Grant is much better as a charming bastard than as another stammering nice guy and Colin Firth gets more "money shot" entrances than any actor in recent memory. Every time he shows up, his entrance is shot like a god descending. Given the success of the book, I can’t believe it didn’t open in more theaters. If it had, it would be number one now.
NINETY MINUTES OF YOUR LIFE YOU’LL NEVER GET BACK
Joe Dirt opens at number four and the never-ending parade of bad movies from SNL alumni continues. Why does this even exist? This character is at best, a minor character in someone else’s movie, not the subject of his own. I’m thinking Deuce Bigalow, Austin Powers and Joe Dirt together might have 90 minutes worth of jokes---but I doubt it.
OH, HE’S THE GOOD DRUG DEALER
Blow is down to number five and this movie does a bit of a whitewash of Depp’s real life character. I mean, no matter how you slice it, this guy was a drug dealer and a very successful one at that. That rarely equals "nice guy." One important fact they leave out is that he too cut deals with the feds and betrayed his friends to get away. They also fail to point out that he became a drug dealer simply because he didn’t want to work for a living. Hey, I don’t want to work for a living either, but you don’t see me selling joints in the park. Couldn’t he just start a band?
YOUR GRANDMOTHER IS A HO
Kingdom Come opens at number six and having been to a Southern, Black funeral, I don’t need to see a movie about it. Memories of my late grandfather’s mistress of sixty years ago, walking in dressed to the nines are still much too fresh in my mind.
NORMALLY, I LIKE PUSSY, BUT….
Josie & The Pussycats opens at number seven and this movie wants to have it both ways as both a vehicle and a satire of teen pop exploitation. Maybe if it had the courage of its convictions it might have worked. As it is, the only truly funny moments are when mocking the boy bands (Dean Martin’s grandson, believe it or not, plays one of the members), which is safe because this movie isn’t about a boy band. They don’t dare rip on how much sex is used to sell pop girls, because that would be biting the hand that feeds them. Now, if ripping a boy band sounds easy, remember: the more absurd something truly is, the harder it is to spoof it and fewer things are more absurd than the boy band phenomena, so this is actually quite an accomplishment. The rest of the movie however, is very disappointing. I liked Josie and the Pussycats as a kid (especially when they went into space) and therein lies the problem. I’m 34, hardly the target audience of this movie. They’re using a 30-year-old cartoon to try and appeal to people who weren’t born for another decade. Casting Rachel Leigh Cook in the title role doesn’t help. No matter what she does, she still looks like a little boy with breasts (so if you’re a man who finds her attractive, you might want to look within and ask yourself why). My first choice for Josie would have been actual musician, Juliana Hatfield, but that’s just me. I always saw Josie & The Pussycats as actual adults, not little girls. And while I give them credit for including Alexandra and her brother, where’s Sebastian, the cat? Come on, how difficult would it have been to give her a cat?
IT MUST BE TOLD
Pokemon 3 is down to number eight. That is all.
COMPARE AND CONTRAST. IT WILL BE ON THE EXAM.
Someone Like You is down to number nine and Hugh Jackman had better hope that Swordfish or that movie he’s doing with Meg Ryan will do better this year, otherwise he’s going to grow old in those Wolverine sideburns. And compare this piece of crap to Bridget Jones’s Diary and you’ll see the difference between a good and bad romantic comedy, as they are essentially the same: a professional woman in the big city looking for love
THE END
Finally, Enemy At The Gates closes out the top ten at number ten.
WITH A REBEL YELL, HE CRIED "I’M TOO OLD, OLD, OLD…"
Once again, Behind The Music returns to my generation for yet another entertaining hour. Billy Idol couldn’t be funnier in his total refusal to completely grow up. Not since the last rap story has there been so much bleeping of curse words. And for someone damn near fifty to have been through what he’s been through, he looks pretty good. On a sadder note, he was playing Atlantic City two weeks ago. One of my favorite parts of Behind the Music is how they tiptoe around the state of the artists today, i.e., they’re has-beens doing the oldies circuit.
PUSH IT REAL GOOD!
Speaking of Behind The Music and my generation, how many bad fashion memories came out of the Salt ‘n Pepa episode? Because they were so trendy fashion-wise, seeing their various incarnations was painful indeed. Whatever possessed every woman of color in America to dye her hair red-gold and shave it on one side? And don’t get me started on those big-ass gold earrings. My favorite part of their episode was yet another unrepentant male. In this case it was their producer, who showed no regret for cheating on Pepa (or was it Salt) or anything else he’d done. He summed up the actual mentality of 99% of everyone in the music business: "I like music, but I love money."
NO KIDDING? THAT’S MY NAME TOO, NOW DIE, YOU RAT BASTARD!
How many times are these ethnic watchdogs going to pop up trying to defend their various groups? Now it’s a bunch of losers in Chicago who are trying to sue Time Warner over The Sorpranos and its depiction of Italian-Americans. Someone should point out to these idiots that it’s about Italian-American mobsters, so unless you’re a mobster, it’s not about you. And notice how the mob haters never go to the mob itself. Nobody ever gave John Gotti shit about the mob giving Italians a bad name. They’d experience the cruelest irony when someone with the exact same surname began kneecapping them. Listen, being Black I can sympathize, but you don’t see Black people complaining about The Corner, which could have been called "Black People On Crack" and still been an accurate title. Know why? Because it was real and if you arrested everyone in organized crime in New Jersey, the majority are going to have names ending in vowels. Sorry, but welcome to the real world. Next, single 30-something women are going to be bitching about Sex & The City depicting them all as desperate, lonely sluts and we know that’s not true, right? Right? Hey, why are you people laughing?
TIME FOR YOU BASTARDS TO GET SOME CULTURE
My lovely roommate, who should dye her hair Blonde and take advantage of her slight resemblance to Michele Pfeiffer and make us some money, continues to preserve her integrity and do theater, appearing in The Crimson Thread at The Wings Theater Company on Christopher Street (http://www.thecrimsonthread.cjb.net/) through April 21st. She’s only in the first act, so you can leave after seeing it (she's gotten great reviews). Look at this way: how else are you ever going to see the woman who has lived with me for the last ten years? Aren’t you the least bit curious? Then see the goddamned play!
FEEL MY JUNGLE PASSION---HEY, WHAT HAPPENED?
So, I guess you’re wondering about that letter, huh? Well, in the previous millennium, I was actually dating a woman and we were in Condomania, the all-condom store downtown when we saw the "Zulu" condom. "Made for the Black man" was written proudly on its red, black and green packaging---just below the spear and African shield. Now, we though this was funny as hell and bought it. It wasn’t so funny when it wound up breaking. Annoyed at this, I wrote a letter to the manufacturer complaining of its shoddy quality and quickly forgot all about. A few days later, however, I came home and found a message on my machine from the owner of the company fucking yelling at me, like I don’t know how to use a fucking condom! I returned the call, asking him what his fucking problem was. He apologized profusely and wrote the above letter---including a new condom from their new manufacturer, which I consider an admission of guilt. The end.
4/9/2001
"Anybody who works is a fool. I don’t work, I merely inflict myself on the public." --- Robert Morley
2ND CHANCES ALL AROUND!
For the second week in a row Spy Kids remains at the number one spot, but only by a nose. Either Kelly Preston or Kelly Lynch was supposed to play Antonio Banderas’ wife, but had to bow out. If it was the former, I’m sure she’s disappointed, but not crushed. If it was the latter…well, let’s just say things haven’t been the same since she boasted that her love scene with Patrick Swayze in RoadHouse was going to go down in movie history. Also present in this movie are Cheech Marin, Robert Patrick, Teri Hatcher (?), Tony Shaloub and Alan Cummings, finally exploiting his uncanny resemblance to Paul "Pee Wee Herman" Rubens. And yes, the old rule about kid films being the last resort of a dying career applies. No one and I mean no one in this cast is on the "A" list. Even Antonio is in trouble (name his last hit, quick!). It was either this or the place where careers go to die: straight to video erotic thrillers and action movies. Oh, where are you now, Tom Berenger?
THOSE WHO DON’T OBSERVE WASHED UP ACTORS, ARE DOOMED TO BECOME THEM
Opening in the number two spot is Along Came A Spider, the movie sequel to Kiss The Girls, but in book form, Kiss The Girls was actually the sequel. So, if Morgan Freeman’s phone was ringing off the hook from young actresses (young, White actresses, but we’ll get into that later) after the first film, he’s going to have stalkers now ("Mr. Freeman, I think Katie Holmes is hiding in your rose bushes, sir."). Just like Kiss The Girls, this can be dumb (and I mean dumb) fun if you let it, but only if you let it. I did and I enjoyed it. Thankfully, the rock that is Morgan Freeman is sturdy enough to keep you from falling through the huge, huge plot holes that so populate this film. Speaking of young actresses and failing careers, Penelope Ann Miller is on hand as the mother of the kidnapped girl. I hope Monica Potter took notes, as that could be her one day. Once upon a time, Penelope Ann Miller had her moment of heat (The Freshman, Carlito’s Way, Awakenings, Kindergarten Cop) and then it all came crashing down (The Shadow, Year of the Comet, Other People’s Money and talking about fucking Al Pacino to People magazine). The common denominator: Robin Williams (with Miller in Awakenings, with Potter in Patch Adams). You’ve been warned, girlfriend.
BEEN THERE, DONE THAT
Opening at number three is Blow, or as I like to call it, "Lil’ Traffic." Actually, what it most resembles is the last third of Goodfellas, complete with creative editing, pop songs on the soundtrack and Ray Liotta in the cast (the latest stage of his comeback in 2001, including Hannibal and Heartbreakers). Not a bad movie, but done better, earlier by more talented people. It only makes you realize how good those other films were. Though getting a ton of exposure, Penelope Cruz only shows up for the third act of the film, in what was formerly known as the Salma Hayek role (formerly known as the Maria Conchita Alonzo role)---hot, Latina for the male lead (Jennifer Lopez was smart enough to only do this once in Blood & Wine). Having seen Spanish television, I shouldn’t be surprised at the realization that the overacting style of Salma Hayek is present in Penelope Cruz as well. A stronger director might have controlled it, but Ted Demme ain’t him. And will someone please clue me into what success Penelope Cruz has had to warrant all this coverage!?! Will she go on to live up to her pre-hype like Julia Roberts and Gwyneth Paltrow, or will she join the endless parade of blondes like Gretchen Mol on the trash heap?
PRINTING MONEY
Opening at number four is Pokemon 3. Man, talk about beating and milking a dead farm animal. Still, it must be making money; otherwise they wouldn’t be doing it.
BASIC REQUIREMENTS OF THE GENRE
Someone Like You is down to number five and along for the ride for this are Ellen Barkin and Marisa Tomei, two others whose careers have also seen better days. Oddly enough, their characters are much more interesting than Ashley Judd’s character, especially Ellen Barkin as a talk show host out to become the new Oprah. I’d leave Ashley Judd for her too, especially when she starts up with that "I’m just a little country girl" routine. I hate that. And correct me if I’m wrong, but when you have a romantic comedy with a lonely best girlfriend and bad boy womanizer, aren’t they supposed to end up together at least once? Maybe not in an original film, but this is hardly that. We’re also missing our scene where our bad boy womanizer confesses the heartbreak that made him this way, which is a serious problem here, because more than one scene is hinting towards just that. We even see the heartbreaking girlfriend, but never the story behind it.
MISC.
Enemy At The Gates is down to number seven, followed by The Brothers at number eight. The last holdover from 2000, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon is down to number nine.
BEGGARS CAN’T BE CHOOSERS, PT. II
Finally, Tomcats closes out the top ten at number ten. In interviews, Shannon Elizabeth openly admits to liking one night stands. Sorry, but this isn’t like some supermodel dropping this. This is an average looking "C" List actress. She can’t afford to turn down too many offers. They’ll be few and far between when she’s doing Deadly Passion 7 on Showtime.
HEY, LET’S STOP BATHING TOO!
Not breaking the top ten was Just Visiting, a remake of a French film also starring Jean Reno. Who the hell thought this was a good idea? "Oh, it was big in France, so let’s do it here." You know what else is big in France? Surrendering to Germans. Wanna try that too?
FOR A FAT CULT MEMBER, HE’S A HELLUVA GUY
I mocked a Behind the Music on Flashdance a few weeks ago and deservedly so. Much better, however, was the Behind The Music on Saturday Night Fever. First of all, the music was better ("More Than A Woman" vs. "Maniac" No contest.), not to mention the screenplay. The only thing the two have in common are bad directors. Saturday Night Fever had John Badham (well named) and Flashdance had Adrian Lyne. One thing they did leave out was the origin of the screenplay, which was an article about actual guys in Brooklyn going out dancing. Interviewed for this, John Travolta proved why he’s still a star even though he makes bad movies. He’s obviously proud and grateful of all his success. Unlike some others, he doesn’t turn his nose up at the success of his youth and it’s endearing. He even made jokes about being fatter now. How can you not like this guy?
EVEN I HAVE MY LIMITS
I hate that Martin Luther King Jr., commercial. It’s just plain wrong. What next? Ghandi pushing Nike? And forget the appropriateness of it all, how about the technology needed to make it work, still isn’t here. He looks like he’s got no neck!
THE SECRET TO GETTING LAID: LOW STANDARDS
Sheryl Crow and Kid Rock are apparently dating. Like I said, Sheryl Crow is a grown woman who’s been around for awhile. Be nice to her, make her laugh and you’re in like Flynn.
AN OFFER I CAN’T REFUSE
I don’t want to watch The Sorpranos, but I’m on the verge due to my disgust with The X-Files. David Duchovny is back and who the fuck cares? I was so bored watching it last night I began surfing the net.
TALES FROM THE FRONTLINES
When you wonder why I keep my dating to a minimum and my DVD collection is now pushing 200, just go to www.psychoexgirlfriend.com. You’ll read it, but some 20-something guy briefly dated a 30-something woman. It didn’t work out and she had a melt down, as evidenced by the numerous crazy messages she left on his voicemail. Messages he has posted on this website. Now, there’s no defending him. Only a total asshole would do something like this, but she’s no prize herself. See, the problem here is, she’s crazy and he’s an asshole. They don’t mix. It’s crazy/sane, asshole/nice; opposites to balance the other out. The friend who clued me into this asked me why I hadn’t thought of this. Because last thing you want to do is to piss off a crazy woman who knows where you live, that’s why. If he were older, he’d know that.
HEY, IF I WANTED TO WORK, I’D GET A REAL JOB!
So I’m watching Bands On The Run, my only concession to the whole reality TV craze and I’m realizing something: being in a band is work. See, that’s too much for me. I don’t want to work at all. Hell, I don’t even want to do the performances. I just want the money, the fame, the after-concert pussy and to make music videos. None of this touring shit for me. Just the perks.
NO SEX IN THE CITY: THE SAGA CONTINUES
So, my friends, The Young Married Couple (they were married at The Russian Tea Room) have joked that maybe Chasing Amy doesn’t exist. I’d put up an argument, but it’s hard claim a stranglehold on reality to do when you’ve got an apartment filled with various Superman action figures. I decided instead that they should come out with us. He was out of town at a wedding, so only Young Married Woman could join us at some Mexican place below Canal. After a couple of interesting margaritas later, Chasing Amy excuses herself to the ladies room and Young Married Woman turns to me and says, "She’s great. I’m so sorry for you." Needless to say, after that much more drinking was needed, so we’re had very large drinks at a Swiss place directly across the street, where my bourgeois morality again came under siege by the two freer spirit across the table from me. It seems they want me to commit the sins they cannot because they are attached. I couldn’t bring myself to point out that the last place a married or attached woman needed to be was drinking with an immoral man. From there it was on to The Blind Tiger in the west village, where illusions of sobriety could no longer be maintained. Chasing Amy promised her girlfriend she’d be home earlier than normal and Young Married Woman had to work in the morning, so that was the last stop of the evening (even though Amy had made noise about returning to Hell). Now, I’m just waiting for the other half of Young Married Couple to call me up laughing, as he takes great delight in my continued suffering.
4/2/2001
"I am still an atheist. Thank God." --- Luis Brunel
BOND, JIMMY BOND
Spy Kids opens at number one and this is no surprise. I had so much fun at this; more than some of the kids there. For them, it’s just another movie, but for an adult it’s a return to the days when you imagined yourself as James Bond, saving the world just as well as any adult. The only difference: even as a kid, I still had girls in my fantasy. This, however, moves toward more of a pro-family message. If you’ve ever suffered through the odious Four Rooms, you saw the origins of these two kids in the segment directed by Robert Rodriguez and starring Antonio Banderas. Personally, I would have preferred Tamblyn Tomita to return as his wife (as would she and her agent, I imagine), because she never looked as good as she did in that, but that would have been too minority for Hollywood, I imagine. As it is, it’s very liberal. The two little heroes are named Cortez, they obviously live in Mexico and the girl is the obviously lead. How many fights with the studio do you think Rodriguez had to make her blonde and prettier? Also on hand is the infamous, Danny Trejo, who is the tattooed bad guy in every action movie of the last ten years. He’s replaced Al Leong (longhaired Asian guy with Fu Manchu mustache in Die Hard, Lethal Weapon, Replacement Killers and She’s Having A Baby) as Hollywood’s most dependable henchman. Finally, he plays a good guy in what is obviously the beginning of a franchise. Now, his agent is happy.
CRAP BY NUMBERS
Someone Like You opens at number two and recently Sandra Bullock thanked Julia Roberts for making lame, mainstream, romantic comedy vehicles possible for women again. Obviously she didn’t say "lame" but "these types of movies", but really, what’s the difference? Your first clue is the use of a song for the title. This is Ashley Judd’s attempt to hop on that gravy train and given how lame it is, I can’t believe it isn’t doing better. It’s your typical girl meets seemingly wonderful boy, boy turns out to be jerk, girl gets burned, nearby boy who appears to be jerk turns out to be the right choice. By the numbers, but incompetently done. First of all, the boy (Greg Kinnear, who is rapidly becoming this generation’s Fred McMurray) is cheating on his girlfriend with Ashley Judd. What is this power of women to make some guy who’s fucking over another woman to be with them, some sort of catch? The simple fact he’s cheating on his girlfriend makes him a defacto asshole. This makes it hard to sympathize with Ashley Judd when she gets burned. After all, she’s the skank on the side and who feels sorry for the skank on the side? Then there’s the jerk boy (Hugh Jackman) who turns out to be the victim of a bad burn himself. Their eventual hook up seems incredibly forced because you never get the feeling there’s any real romantic attraction. They actually seem to just be good friends. You can tell an actor directed this (Tony Goldwyn, who seems to have finally realized that he’s too ugly to be a leading man) because you have no establishing shots to let you know where anything is taking place, but plenty of close up actor shots. I mean, what’s the point in setting this movie in New York, when it’s shot so close up and tight, you can’t tell it’s New York? And again, we’re denied a sex scene between two attractive leads. Excuse me, but what the hell am I paying for?
BUT WHERE’S THE PAT BENETAR SONG?
Heartbreakers is down to number three and the saving grace of this movie is Ray Liotta. His frantic energy gives this movie a jolt it sorely needs. Apparently, he recently turned down a two-year stint on the Sopranos, which blows my theory that every Italian actor alive will eventually make an appearance on it. I mean, Martin Scorcese has already appeared and for an Italian actor, that’s like the blessing of the pope.
A MOVIE FOR AND ABOUT BOOBS. AND I’M NOT TALKING ABOUT BREASTS.
Tomcats opens to a disappointing number four, though it will still probably turn a profit. One big problem is that this latest bastard child of Animal House (a.k.a., slob comedies) has no appeal to women or minorities, something both Road Trip and Scary Movie did. It’s obvious no woman in this is anything more than a piece of ass, no matter how much they tried to alter the ad campaign over the last few weeks. One major flaw is opening this in the middle of the NCAA playoffs, as this is obviously a movie for sexually retarded frat boys, most of whom were at home in sweatsuits with their caps on backwards, drinking beer and yelling at a TV screen.
MEAT PUPPET
The Brothers is down to number five and has anyone else noticed the ad campaign? By this I mean, Jennifer Love Hewitt’s breasts don’t get nearly the amount of attention as Shemar Moore’s pecs. I think it was in his contract that he be shirtless and glistening whenever possible. "Is he pumped? Great! Now, oil him down and…action!" This movie also goes where no black film has gone before: it actually disparages both heavy black women and unmarried black women with kids. Bill Bellamy swears off Black women and lists those as two reasons why: "It’s like the government is handing out cheese sandwiches and kids." I think the shirtless scenes of Shemar Moore where meant to offset the sting of this. It won’t work. One day he’s going to walk into an Oprah convention and that will be his ass.
MEMORIES, IN THE CORNERS OF MY MIND…
Enemy at the Gates is down to number six and apparently this was less than a hit at the Berlin Film Festival. I can’t imagine why.
FAT PEOPLE ARE FUNNY
Exit Wounds is down to number seven and as much as I hate to admit it, the improv over the closing credits between Tom Arnold and Anthony Anderson (big, fat bastard) was funny. It pretty much turns into a shameless competition over who can sound like the biggest, most desperate loser, but it made me laugh.
WOW! I’VE JUST BEEN TOTALLY DRAGGED OUT OF THE MOVIE BY A SURPRISE CELEBIRTY CAMEO!
Despite the Academy Awards, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon is down to number eight, followed by Traffic at number nine. The physically wonderful Salma Hayek (physically only---her brutal pussywhipping of Ed Norton has not left my mind) shows up briefly in Traffic…as a whore. Needless to say, she was just there to make the Soderbergh connection, hoping to get a little of what he’s been giving actresses for years: the illusion of depth and talent. Let’s face it: he showed just how good he could be in his first film when he tricked all of us into believing Andie McDowell could act
THANK GOD, SOMEONE DRAGGED ME OUT OF THIS MOVIE WITH A SURPRISE CELEBRITY CAMEO!
Speaking of celebrity cameos, now that The Mexican is down to number ten I feel I can bring up the useless celebrity cameo at the end: Gene Hackman pops up as Brad Pitt’s mob boss (there’s also a celebrity cameo at the end of Spy Kids, but I won’t mention that for a few weeks). You’d think a forty-year career and a couple of Oscars might have given Hackman a nose for crap, but obviously not. Besides, at this stage of the game, he’s just in it for the money and the perks. A nice check and cable in the trailer is what it’s all about for Gene.
HEY, WHERE’S HIS TUX?
The Tailor of Panama fails to break the top ten and I’m partially responsible. I had every intention of seeing this, because I like Pierce Brosnan, but then I realized I hate spy movies. Realistic ones anyway. I like my spies shaken, not stirred with hot and cold running femme fatales and super gadgets, none of which will be present in this John LeCarre adaptation.
PHILISTENES, ALL OF YOU
Some guy on my machine commenting on my outgoing message, which is me singing Spandau Ballet, "Must be the wrong number, but buddy, you got problems."
MORE OSCAR UNCOVERAGE
Apparently peeved by not getting a Best Actress nomination for House of Mirth, Gillian Anderson went around in a dress showing her thong going down the crack of her ass, like some skank in a hip-hop video…And while she was pretending to be a skank, real skanks Pam Anderson and Liz Hurley are now pals on the prowl. Sigh. Is that not pathetic? Soon, very soon, is Pam Anderson going to learn, that the type of men that like women like her, only like women like her YOUNG. And Liz Hurley? I want to hate, but that accent goes a long way with me. Sigh. I’m weak, I know…Matt Damon, Penelope Cruz, and Winona Ryder all at the same party, but no scene. Man, these people are boring. On second thought, maybe not. Courtney Love found one-night stand partner Russell Crowe and proceeded to make him regret ever meeting her. First, she storms off after one of her late husband’s songs comes on. Then she returns shouting, "But you don’t understand, he was the greatest rock star ever!" Later, as Crowe and his date are getting in his car, she shoves her head in the window, questioning the woman, but telling him, "Relax, Russell." She then proceeded to follow them in her own car. Suddenly, celibacy seems like wise choice, does it not? Ain’t nothin’ like sleeping with a crazy woman.
STILL DOESN’T DESERVE THE SUPERMAN TATTOO
I gave up on basketball when I realized that even 5’9" would always be a dream, but even before that I never watched it, so I could give a shit about Shaquille O’Neal. Watching him trash a favorite comic of mine in a movie didn’t help (Steel is an offshoot of Superman) and neither did his Diary on MTV (you’d think he’d never seen a woman without a bra before). But I like him now. Why? I like arrogance. In an interview he mentions an interest in Anna Kornikova. Issues of taste aside (he obviously has none), he flat out states that if she met him she’d abandon any plans to marry. To quote Tom Skeritt from Top Gun, "That’s pretty arrogant…I like that in a pilot."
HIS BOYS CAN SWIM
As long as we’re mentioning Tom Cruise, let’s get into how nasty this story is getting. It seems Nicole had a miscarriage right after he announced his intent to divorce. Now, remember: he divorced now to avoid any ten-year penalty in court and the stress of this seems to have triggered her miscarriage. Now, if he hadn’t done this, he would finally have at least one argument against his rumored homosexuality: living proof that he’d had successful intercourse with a woman.
TALK ABOUT YOUR GAPS
Note to the people who cast those Gap ads celebrating the return of spring: if you’re going to put women in hip-huggers, it helps if they actually have a distinguishable waistline. Just thought I’d point that out.
DIRTY OLD MAN MOMENT #???
With all the antics of Brittney Spears (whose Pepsi commercial was simply another video, with the worst song ever) and Christina Aguilera (who’s preparing her Coke commercial as we speak) and the lesser stars, we’ve overlooked the girls of Destiny’s Child, more specifically, Beyonce Knowles, the lead singer (no soft drink affiliation as of yet). After all, they too have a penchant for crop tops (one, ironically, with the word "Jesus" on it---do you think the lord cut it himself?), booty-cutter shorts and low, low cut jeans, but haven’t attracted near the controversy for it. Why? The primary reason is obvious: unlike their blonde (read: white) counterparts, Destiny’s Child has never looked like the little girls they actually were. They have always looked like young women, ergo, no dirty old man guilt at first glance. BUT, now that I know, I can’t pretend those aren’t little girls, not even when Beyonce, (prettier than Brittney, not as good a singer as Christina, but unlike them, she actually writes) volunteers that she’s double-jointed. Damn. That’s not something an old man needs to hear. Apparently Tiger Woods didn’t need to hear even that, having already declared a crush. Now, any father worth his weight is already negotiating that union.
GUILTY PLEASURE, BUT NOT HOW YOU THINK
My guilty pleasures of the moment are the little girl groups, TLW and Dream. Unlike the others, they inspire no dirty old man moments because they are so obviously kids, not to mention cute. It’s like when you’re at a family reunion and your little cousins get up and start singing a song. It’s adorable. You realize that when they shake their hips and make pouty looks, that they have no idea what it means or what sexual connotation might be present. They, like their older contemporaries, only do it because they’ve seen Madonna and Janet Jackson do it all their lives. Now Madonna and Janet always knew impact of an ass wiggle and some cleavage, but do you really think Brittney and Christina do? BUT, this doesn’t mean we can’t start taking bets on how they’ll crash and burn. The lead singer of Dream has the best voice, but is also the least attractive (like it matters when you’re 15; you’ll be completely different in five years) and the heaviest. Expect her to feel the pressure of being thin and turn to diet pills. The primary cause of her insecurities will be the tallest, thinnest member of Dream, who also happens to be blonde and fully developed (but no prize beauty either). Gee, I wonder if that will lead to trouble? Please. Expect her to be caught making out with some 30-year old rock star after the MTV Awards next year and then leave the group for a failed solo career and descent into drugs.
THE GLORY OF BEING ME
Many times in my life have I been criticized for being a little too uptight and conservative and maybe that’s true (actually, I’m just too lazy to be exciting), but the saving grace is, I will never see myself drunk and pathetic on television like the people I saw on Bands on The Run last night. At one point, some drunk girl is trying to get the band to go home with her (she’s rejected). Now, I’m not saying that I’ve never been drunk trying to get laid, I’m just saying that you don’t have any proof of it. Much less, film of it that could be rerun forever.
THE DOWNSIDE OF BEING ME
I broke down and got another cell phone (the old one was never used and was an high radiation emitter besides) and when I went get it, I walked into an office of young Asian men---all of whom were taller than myself and I mean all of them. Sigh. The only satisfaction I get is knowing they were all taller than Wesley Snipes too, which has got to be painful for a rice-buster like him.
SO YOU WANNA BE A ROCK ‘N ROLL STAR? FIRST OF ALL, DON’T SUCK!
As long as we’re on Bands On The Run, is it just me or can you just look at them all and tell they suck? One thing I’ve noticed over the years is that, if you’re really talented and you work hard (the latter is my terminal flaw), you don’t suffer too long. Oh, you may not be opening at Madison Square Garden or have a top ten hit, but you’re not flipping burgers either. Most talented musicians have their first break in their early 20’s. A friend of mine had a band for years, but they never quite made it. Their keyboardist, on the other hand, went on tour with Areosmith and the last I heard of my friend, he himself was suing Warner Brothers because he heard his voice coming out of a Pokemon toy---for which he had not been paid. Not on top, but they aren’t waiting tables either. That said, these bands suck and worst yet, only one member out of four fucking bands can be considered attractive. W hat!?! Couldn’t they find sucky bands with attractive members? And not that I want to see ugly people have sex, but it was obvious at least two people got lucky and we didn’t get to see or hear anything. What a gyp! Let’s face it: one of the primary draws of all these shows is the promise of sex and if anyone has it, it’s going to be show about rock bands, so why cheat us?
IN DEFENSE OF WACKY CHICKS
Supposedly, gay men are a girl’s best friend, but you wouldn’t know it from a sitcom. In the case of Sex & The City and Will & Grace, both headed by gay men, there’s a nasty trend of humiliating the lead characters. Carrie on Sex & The City, turned into a truly pathetic creature by the end of the third season (granted, this is only in her relationship with Mr. Big) and I don’t think I can take much more of Grace’s humiliation. Now, I expect this kind of shit from David Kelly, but from the Friends of Dorothy? I’m very disappointed in you, ladies. For god’s sake, throw her a bone (or boner) in at least one episode (and upcoming episodes with Woody Harrelson aren’t going to cut it with me). Even Just Shoot Me is going to give Laura San Giacomo a love interest in Dean Cain, which is long overdue. God knows that show needed at least one truly attractive person.
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