07/25/05 ONE SCIENCE FICTION MOVIE OR SERIES CAN FEED YOU FOREVER
Charlie & The Chocolate factory holds at number one thanks to children and adults curious to see what’s been done to the beloved film of their youth. Okay, maybe them and a whole lotta stoned college kids---exactly the kind those curious adults used to be. Now that Vincent Price is dead, Burton has moved on to another reluctant horror movie god, Christopher Lee, who is getting lots of work from old geeks who grew up loving his films. George Lucas, Peter Jackson and this is his second Tim Burton film (he’ll
also be a voice in The Corpse Bride this fall). Me, I was always a Peter
Cushing guy---who was also given a job by George Lucas. Man, we geeks are
truly a predictable bunch.
LUCKY FOR YOU MR. & MRS. SMITH
IS GONE THIS WEEK
The Wedding Crashers holds
on at number two and maybe this will signal the return of the “R”rated comedy. God knows we need it. If I see another should-have-been “R” film castrated because the studios thought “PG13” would bring more cash… Sorry, but Dodgeball should have been “R” and would have been if it had been made in the 70’s. Hell, even “PG13” movies twenty years ago knew enough to throw in nudity (remember the shower scene in Sixteen Candles?). Can you imagine Animal House “PG13?” Caddyshack? Stripes? How annoying is it to see those films cut on late-night TV? Sorry, but unless John Belushi (who took all the talent in his family to the grave) says “fucking bar”, it’s just not funny. And maybe, just maybe, we’ll see sex onscreen again in mainstream, non-suspense movies again before we all die. But if you tell me Rachel “I Swear I’m Under 30” McAdams is nude in this, then I’ll go see it (I’m a fan). If not, I’m
waiting until cable.
SISTAS ARE DOIN’ IT FOR THEMSELVES!
Fantastic Four holds at number
three and in a sad attempt to show how hip they are, they’ve made Ben Grimm’s longtime bind girlfriend, Alicia Masters black (played by Kerry Washington). It’s bullshit because Alicia isn’t a major character, so they’re going for cool points without taking any of the risk. If they had any balls, they would have made both The Invisible Girl and The Human Torch actually Latin in accordance to Jessica Alba’s obvious ethnic background. But hey, I guess it’s
a victory on some level. The only two female roles in a hundred million dollar
film are both played by minority women in a non-stereotypical manner (though
I do love watching Kerry Washington do her sista-girl thang).
NEXT, WE’LL GET FUCKING BRETT
RATNER!
The Island opens at number
four and the apparent failure of this film is so sweet to the taste, because
Michael Bay is an evil plague upon cinema, made all the more abhorrent
by his pure belief that he’s a good filmmaker. And though you may not believe it to be possible, Michael Bay’s movies are getting worse and worse. Not that he’s doing anything differently than he was doing ten years ago, it’s just that he has more money, which means bigger explosions and more leeway to focus on them so we can just forget about story, characters or mood. And it’s the same “money shots” over and over. He must have loved the merry-go-round as a child. How else can you explain his signature shot of endlessly circling his two stars. And the there’s the “slow motion shot upwards.” And if you thought they looked like commercials before, the painfully obvious product placement here is not to be believed. Now, I normally have no problem with it, because if you look in anyone’s home, you’re going to see name brands. Even in a story it doesn’t bother me, because corporate sponsorship is a reality, so if you do a movie about an athlete or actor, they’re going to be doing commercials. No, the problem is products where products shouldn’t be or obvious, needless shots that have nothing to do with the story. The premise of this story is that people have had clones made for medical emergencies and they’re being housed in a military facility that they [the clones] believe to be a post-holocaust sanctuary. Now, if you’re trying to fool people into thinking they world has ended and that civilization has collapsed, why all they all wearing clothing with the “Puma” logo? Drinking water from “Aquafina?” Using “Apple” computers? Then there’s Ewan McGregor in a dual role as the man who paid for the cloning. While in his home, we get a HUGE CLOSE UP of a can of Budweiser right before he opens it. It’s so obvious, it’s sickening. The next scene where he brags about his brand new Caddy actually makes sense for his character, but the close-up of the Budweiser can? We also have use of Scarlett Johansson’s fucking Calvin Klein commercial!!! Apparently, she’s the clone of…Scarlett Johansson! The use of corporate logos amongst the clones is part of the same huge hole in the plot. The facility is so monitored, that it checks your urine, knows when you punch a wall and even when you have nightmares, but when Ewan McGregor decides to slip out of his room in the middle of the night, no notices at all. Even today, you can place a tracking device on someone, but even though people are spending $5M to make clones, they don’t put tracking devices in them. You put a tracking device in your fucking car, but not a $5M investment? And it doesn’t get any better. Djimon Honsou is a mercenary hired to bring them back and proceed to wreck, blow up an even kill anyone who gets in his way. The problem is, the very point of his being hired is to hide it from the government who has invested in the clone plan. So how does he do that by blowing up half of future LA, with crashing helicopters, car wrecks and shooting at cops!?! Also, one of the reasons they fight the LAPD, is because if they get DNA tested, the identity of the clone “sponsor” will get out and also expose the plan. Then why shoot at them? Wouldn’t that leave blood, which is chock-full-o-DNA the last I heard? Ewan McGregor is cloned because his sponsor needs a new liver due to the hepatitis he acquired from fucking around too much (what does it tell you that the best scenes are with him as this guy with his accent intact?), but Scarlett Johansson’s sponsor was in a near fatal car accident. She’s also a mother and when they call her home on videophone, we see the child and the child sees her. Of course this leads to a scene where Scarlett Johansson has to choose between her own clone life and that of her sponsor who has a family, right? Nope. We just get exploding trucks. The whole situation is dismissed with one exchange between evil-doctor-in –charge, Sean Bean, and Djimon Honsou. And at the film’s climax, a formerly bad character has a change of heart that’s as illogical and inconsistent with his actions for the last two hours as it is predictable. The only good thing I can say about his movie is that Bay does blow things up well. His actions scenes are so violent it makes even less sense when our heroes keep walking away from them. He knows how to shoot impact scenes…but that’s
about all he knows.
ARE THEY GOING TO REMAKE HERE COME THE TIGERS TOO?
The funniest thing about this
movie is that it opened almost equal to The Island, which is surely upsetting
some people at DreamWorks. I don’t remember the original as well as I should,
given it was just on TV last week, so I was able to enjoy this (though
political correctness has cost us him giving the kids real beer and the
line “All we got on this team is a bunch of Jews, spics, niggers, pansies and one booger eatin’ moron”).
Not to mention they correct what was an enormous flaw I found in the first.
This time around, the motorcycle-riding bad boy is played by someone who
looks like an athlete, unlike the original where that kid looked more feminine
than Tatum O’Neal (Jackie Earle Haley, who was in all three films and went on to be the short angry guy in Breaking Training). Again, better casting here, as her role is played by a girl who looks like a jock. Another improvement in my opinion is that unlike Walter Matthau, Billy Bob Thornton isn’t some warm teddy bear underneath it all. He’s all the sleazy bastard you see on top. And like his ex-wife, Angelina Jolie, when he’s onscreen you’re watching him. He does have that magnetism that a lot of pretty boys don’t (yeah, Brad, I’m talking to you). But where are the obligatory cameos? Since Whitewood was changed to a woman, it could have easily gone to Tatum O’Neal.
And Jackie Earle Haley is still acting too, believe it or not.
LIKE A COCKROACH OF CINEMA
Nailing a hat trick of sorts,
War of the Worlds is down to number six with Hustle & Flow opening at number seven. Including Bad News Bears, it was a good weekend for Paramount---but not for former president, Sherry Lansing, considering all these films were developed under her reign, but became hits after her departure. Oops. I didn’t see Hustle and Flow, but I will. This weekend was a bit tight and I chose sleep over a third film. Not to mention, I don’t want to “force” a potentially good film into the mix. This is why I haven’t seen the penguins yet either. But I’m disturbed at the rising legitimization of Anthony Andrews. Once the black Tom Arnold, he’s now getting critical praise for his work in The Shield and now this critics’ darling film. When you see this fat bastard’s
name above the title of a drama you will know the end is nigh. And whatever
happened to those rape charges of his? He beat those or settle out of court
(and we all know what that means)?
THEY COULD HAVE CALLED IT “BLOOD
ON THE DOUBLE WIDE”
The Devil’s Rejects opens at number eight and I simply do not understand this cult Rob Zombie has even though I know some of them. But I have to give him some respect. He does what he wants, his way and he’s making a living at it. This comes under “I Don’t Do The Scary” even though it looks anything but. But “I Don’t Do The Scary White Trash Either” so this will not be seen by me, ever. The last thing I need to see is a movie about homicidal trailer park escapees. I’ve
left the south, but the scars run deep.
THEY’RE LIKE NATURE’S MATRIE ’DS
Batman Begins is down to number
nine and entering the top ten at number is the aforementioned penguin movie,
better known as March of the Penguins. If you’ve ever seen the Discovery Channel, this is nothing new to you, but even though I have, I still want to see it. Penguins are one of those animals that everyone just loves to watch. If seals were half as appealing, they’d
be so federally protected that even accidentally killing one would get you
jail time. And that episode of Futurama with the penguins was one of their
best.
I FIGURE I’LL ALIENATE HER
BY CHRISTMAS---IF NOT TODAY
So, I finally had dinner again
with Dorito Cheeseburger Woman (because male friends leads to violence
and sports and sex with women) who was not only delighted to know I’d written
about her, but was disappointed to learn I didn’t use her real name. Turns
out she’s
one of these freaks who wants to keep a blog and wants her name to turn
up in a Google search (Karyn Plonsky, in case you want to try). Sigh. Freaking
actresses. In any case, because my other eating buddies don’t seem to love
the taste of burgers the way I do, and still others are afraid of the clowns
that decorate the place (I’m no fan either), I asked her to come and indulge
with me at Paul’s Hamburger Palace on St. Mark’s & 2nd. I’ve been going
there since it opened in the 80’s and the only person working there was
Paul. It used to be a yogurt store and I stumbled into it one night after
going to a party with friends while craving fries and he was the sole guy
behind the counter. It’s been my place of choice ever since. This is not
to say I don’t enjoy the three-cheese cheeseburger at Silver Spurs, but
the place it a little generic restaurant chain for me to go regularly.
This place stinks of the neighborhood where it resides. I actually to talk
her out of going out and buying Doritos, pointing out that adding it to
a neighborhood cookout burger is one thing, but to a finely prepared piece
of premium beef is akin to sacrilege. Maybe I was drinking when we first
met (actually, I know I was), but I didn’t remember as freaking perky as
she was. Not to mention she prayed before the meal, chose an English muffin
over a bun for her burger, declined fries (she’d
just dropped ten pounds to get a fit modeling contract) and kept freaking
winking at me! I hate winking! I know to most people winks are conveying
some secret understanding you share in a sly manner, but to me they are
nothing but sinister. Someone who winks is that weird smelly guy in your
computer department who thinks just because you liked Lord of the Rings
that you two are best friends, so when hears you complaining about your
neighbors, he hunts them down and kills them and now expects you to do
the same to his mother, which whom he still lives. Every time she winked
at me I thought, “Oh no! She’s going to kill my loud sex gay neighbors!” After
dinner we took a walk through Love Saves The Day, the kitschy store on
2nd Avenue that sells pop culture artifacts of the last forty years, like
original GI Joes, classic Beatles figures, etc. I felt a wistful pang at
the sight of the original Kenner super-hero dolls from the 70’s. Even
as a kid I knew they sucked, but I loved them just the same. After that
we wound up at a bar with a pool table, where I showed some semblance of
growing my balls back after having them thoroughly removed by Star Trek
Woman a few months back when she beat me in something like 10 out of 12
games. However, I beat the White girl, so there! She had a film festival
to attend that night and invited me along while she networked, but since
my own miserable experience with film festivals, I’m
thoroughly enounced in schadenfraude towards any and everyone else doing
them. Besides, her energy had completely worn me out in our brief time together
(well, that I and I had to buy comic books, which I simply will not do in
front of a woman). I prefer my friends low-key, cynical and angry. And eating
buns and fries.
HE’S DEAD JIM
Sigh. Scotty is gone. James
Doohan died last week because Death has decided to build her Star Trek
collection. First Dr. McCoy, then Sarek and now Scotty. Now the deathwatch
begins for the rest. You know who’s really old? Sulu.
HEY, JUDE…
In a time a of sadness in England,
Jude Law has shown himself to being a true patriot by giving his countrymen
some seriously silly shit to take their minds off of everything. How bright
do you have to be not to hire an even remotely fuckable nanny!?! This is
rule number one in running a household. Of course, some might say RAISING
YOUR OWN FUCKING KIDS would be rule number one, but not me. I mean, what
the fuck else is Sadie Frost doing that she can’t raise her kids? It’s not like she still has an acting career (it peaked in Dracula over a decade ago). But I have no sympathy for Sienna Miller. Just remember, honey, he was married when you met him. What the fuck did you think was going to happen? What’s
amazing is that, out of all the beautiful women he works with, he picks the
most common English girl he can find. Or maybe not so common. She kept a
diary of very little detail. He got off easy. If she were an American it
would have been a fucking blog.
07/18/05 WHO CAN MAKE THE SUNSHINE?
Charlie & The Chocolate Factory
opens at number one and I almost didn’t see this. I’ve learned to hate
Tim Burton as the years go by. I’m just so sick of his shtick. “Ooh,
I’m dark and weird. I’m not like everyone else. That’s why I’ve never
made a film outside of a major Hollywood studio, haven’t dealt with a small
budget in over a decade, have never worked with anyone who wasn’t established
already, why I make millions of dollars a film and fuck actresses and skinny-big-titted
models.” Get over it. You’re a marginally more talented Michael
Bay who likes to wear black all the time. And you’re even uglier. Unlike
most, I’m no devoted fan of the first Charlie and the Chocolate Factory,
neé Wille Wonka & The Chocolate Factory. I enjoyed it. I enjoyed Gene
Wilder’s creepy Willy Wonka, but like most kid’s musicals, it annoyed the
shit out of me (with the exception of the Oopma-Loompa songs). And I hated,
hated, hated Jack Albertson as the grandfather. I can’t explain it. I
just didn’t like him (though he didn’t bother me on Chico & The Man).
And that scene where he talks Charlie into breaking the rules only made
me hate him even more. So, I’m not looking upon this as the desecration
of some national treasure. And while Tim Burton and Johnny Depp like to
proudly claim they aren’t so much “remaking” that film as doing an authentic
adaptation of Roger Dahl’s book, I notice they had no problems fucking
with it when they got their chance. The secret origin of Willy Wonka!?!
Who the fuck cares!?! Like fucking Ron Howard with The Grinch, they seem
intent on answering a question absolutely no one asked. And for someone
who wants to be so “dark” what’s with the pussy, touchy-feely ending?
What’s the point in trying to make Willy Wonka weirder if you’re just going
to normal him out in the end? From what I remember of the book, it ends
with the elevator going into the sky. You wanna do something original?
Adapt Charlie and The Great Glass Elevator. And yes, it’s hard not to think
of Michael Jackson. Sorry. I didn’t know what the fuss was about, because
it had never occurred to me…at least not until I saw a pale, middle-aged
freak with a propensity for childlike behavior. All that said…it’s not
awful, just pointless and useless. Aside from the technological innovations,
there’s really nothing drastically different about this from the first
film. Same deal: bad kids, tickets, just desserts in the chocolate factory.
If you needed to change something, you might want to add more kids and
represent at least six of the seven deadly sins (kinda hard to do “Lust” with
kids) rather than just four, for more of the fun “punishments” they bring
upon themselves. I always thought it was over too soon when I was kid and
even more so now. And while I miss the traditional Oompa Loompa songs,
Danny Elfman doing various styles of music for the new Oompa Loompa songs
is somewhat amusing, especially when Veruca Salt (which was a great name
for a band) goes down and they do an imitation of The Byrds better than
Tom Petty ever did. Speaking of the Oompa Loompas, yes, it’s all one guy
and frankly, other than to play with special effects what’s the freaking
point? Guarantee you the amount of thought and effort put into making the
movie look this way was ten times the amount of effort put into the script.
So Willy Wonka’s dad was an oppressive dentist. Gee, that’s soooo original!
I never, ever would have thought of that. Oh, my god! He loves candy ‘cause
he’s rebelling against his father! Wow! Suddenly I’m
missing those crappy songs.
40 GOING ON 14
Wedding Crashers opens at number
two and like Old School, this one is just going to have to wait until cable,
because I’m just not into the aging frat boy thing. Sorry, but both Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson are at least a decade too old to be playing these roles. What’s wacky slob comedy fun in your 20’s is suddenly very pathetic in your 30’s. At least it made some sense in Old School, where the ridiculousness of full-grown men acting that way was part of the script. Not here. And I was sooo tempted by the news of Jane Seymour’s first nude scene. It’s been damn near 30 years since she first drove me crazy oozing out her outfit in Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger and now the payoff. But yet, it still wasn’t enough to get me into this latest exploration of aging adolescents, despite my additional appreciation that they didn’t pussy out on the “R” rating.
ANYONE CAN DATE; NOT JUST ANYONE CAN REMEMBER ALL THIS SHIT
Fantastic Four is down to number
three and did we mention Jessica Alba in skintight lycra? Oh, we did. Well,
it’s still one of the highlights of this film, but there’s more than equal time, because the actor who plays her brother, Johnny Storm, aka, The Human Torch, is seriously buffed and not only in the same lyrca but also appears nearly nude. Something for everyone. One tiny very geek thing they get right is that Dr. Doom’s big scar is only a few inches on his face. In the comic he wears the armor because he’s hideously scarred and wants to hide his deformity. Co-creator Jack “King”Kirby said that the scar was only two inches, but that Doom is so vain, that’s a hideous scarring to him. Of course this brilliant piece of characterization was later fucked up by artist John Byrne, who also feels that Jessica Alba couldn’t play Sue Storm because Latin women with blonde hair look like whores to him. Yes, he’s an asshole, but like most geeks he’s
overweight, so destiny has punished him accordingly. This geek moment was
brought to you by a lack of height and athletic ability during high school.
NO ONE BENEFITED MORE FROM “DON’T ASK, DON’T TELL” THAN
MAVERICK
War of the Worlds is down to
number four and also in this is Tim Robbins, reuniting him with Tom Cruise
from Top Gun, where he played “Merlin” the guy who replaced “Goose”---who might as well have been wearing a red shirt from Star Trek, his death was so inevitable. And that movie came out in 1986, so you know what that means, right? The obligatory reunion photograph in Vanity Fair of all the actors in it that people still know, which would be Tom Cruise, Meg Ryan, Anthony Edwards, Val Kilmer, Tom Skeritt and even Michael Ironside. Kelly McGillis will only get an obligatory invite because she was the female lead, while Rick Rossovich might get a nod, because his role was bigger than Tim Robbins and you can’t
invite Tim Robbins and not invite him (and you have to invite Tim Robbins).
Hell, this may result in Adrian Pasdar also getting a phone call. Yes, he
was in it too. But not you, Cougar. You turned in your wings to write the
screenplay to Blue Crush.
HE WON’T BE BILLIONAIRE BRUCE
WAYNE FOR LONG
Batman Begins is down to number
five and believe it or not, even at $288M worldwide this film hasn’t turned a profit yet. It cost $130M to make then for some insane reason they decided to spend $100M on marketing. What. The. Fuck? They only spent $50M marketing Spider-man 2, same as the first, because they figured, “Hey, people know who Spider-man is.” Given that Batman t-shirts actually made more money than the first Batman movie (which, adjusted for inflation made more money than all three Lord of the Rings films), I’m pretty sure people know who the fuck Batman is too. And Warner Brothers wonders why they can’t match Spider-man’s success. They’ve got morons everywhere. And Superman is probably the last character that you’d have to “sell” but watch these same financial wizards spend $100M+ “selling” that
next year!
TALKING THE TALK, BUT NOT WALKING THE WALK
Mr. & Mrs. Smith is down to number six, giving Brad Pitt the closest thing he’s had to a leading man hit since Legends of the Fall and Angelina her first ever (I keep telling you Lara Croft needed home video to make money). Vince Vaughn is also in this and I wonder if he mocked them on being too wussy to go for the “R” rating. “You know, I’m shooting a film with Owen Wilson right after this and it’s tits galore, including Jane Seymour. But hey, that’s me. I like to keep it real. Don’t feel bad. I just did a movie with John Travolta and they pussied out on the “R” too, even though it’s a sequel to an “R” rated movie. But again, that’s
just how I roll.”
BEAUTY IS SKIN DEEP, BUT TALENT GOES TO THE BONE
Dark Water is down to number
seven and this is a character actor smorgasbord. John C. Reily, Tim Roth
(when you can’t get Gary Oldman) and Pete Postlethwaite. Ain’t
a single sculptured feature between the three of them, but seeing all of
them in a room together might be worth sitting through this. Maybe. Obviously,
this what they use to pay for their prolific indie careers.
PURE. EVIL.
Herbie: Fully Loaded is down
to number eight, followed by Bewitched at number nine giving us former
redheads now gone blonde back-to-back---separated only by 20 years and
only one of them having actual money-making hits. Hint: it’s the one least
likely to control her heterosexual urges for ten minutes, much less ten
years.
OF COURSE SPIELBERG IS CONNECTED TO IT SOMEHOW
Finally, Madagascar, the testament to the evil of mediocrity closes out the top ten at number ten.
I WANT TO ROCK AND ROLL ALL NIGHT
There was a time when I avoided
all reality shows. I only watched the first episode of the first American
Idol (only because I was trapped in Former Miss Pretty Boy’s home). I couldn’t make it through five minutes of The Apprentice and I’ve never tried Survivor at all. But now, here I am watching shit like Kept and now INXS: Rock Star. Now this sounds like a bad idea from jump street. Just as Michael Hutchence seemed to be channeling Jim Morrison’s slithery charm, INXS without him is like The Doors without Jim Morrison. They simply don’t exist. Well, you Morrison fans better be glad reality shows weren’t around during the 60’s, because Ray Manzarek is such a money-grubbing whore, he’d be doing this for The Doors. What makes it more sordid is the way Hutchence died! A Autoerotic asphyxiation! Tying a rope around his neck and jerking off to get that extra high! His family denies it, but his ex-girlfriend (the late, great Paula Yates) maintained that he did. Even better, if you believe it was suicide out of depression, she also mentioned that he was depressed over a fight with none other than Bob Geldof. So either he killed himself jerking off or Sir Bob drove him to suicide, either way, this is where our show begins. Okay, this is supposedly the result of a worldwide search and there’s not one Englishman? I’m sorry, but that seems strange. Or maybe they were too dignified for this shit, which is why it’s Americans, Canadians and Australians. Now, this is title is aptly named, because if you’re a musician, neither this or American Idol is what you want. It’s for singers who don’t write. And if that’s you, it actually makes sense, because the real goal isn’t to join a has-been band from the 80’s but to be seen by millions of people on nationwide TV and hopefully a few of them will be producers. For the most part, it’s all a bunch of posers. Ever Mick Jagger-Robert Plant-Bono move you can think of recycled. They have voices, but their personalities are recycled. That they’re competing by singing classic rock songs (depending how you define “classic”) only makes it more apparently. Afterwards, the band offers comments, joined by Dave Navarro who is obviously hurtin’ for money to be here. Only one singer stood out and it’s fitting she was the first up. The very first singer was a 22-year-old Polynesian girl from Minnesota who came out and blew the roof off the joint with The Who’s “Baba O’Reily.” Unlike the rest, she sang it her own way and didn’t try to imitate Roger Daltrey. Plus, she’s got a voice. And to prove it wasn’t a fluke, the next night she did Nirvana’s “Heart-Shaped Box” and made me like it for the first time, because whatever else Kurt Cobain did well, singing was part of it. She should win, but as a woman, will not, but hopefully this will launch her career. The weird thing is, INXS really doesn’t choose. There’s audience voting. Excuse me? What’s the point of letting someone else choose the singer for “your” band? What if America likes them but you hate them? But the others are amusing. The black guy can’t sing as good as he thinks he can and choosing Living Color as his first cover song was just lame, obvious and embarrassing because he couldn’t match Corey Glover. Newsflash, genius: black people created rock & roll so “black rock” is a redundancy! My favorite bad rock singer had to be the good-looking blonde guy. He came out and sang to the women. They told him he was okay, but that he had to sing to the crowd. So what did he do on the next night of competitions? Came out and sang to the women again---and was promptly cut on the third episode. And everyone who voted for that is full of shit, because 90% of the reason to be a rock star is sex. That other 10% is money, fame and artistic fulfillment. He stayed true to his muse of pussy above all and for that I respect him! The utter hypocrisy of the votes is made clear by the simple fact that Brooke Burke is the host! Excuse me, what connection does she have to music other than being able to fuck women who look like her is why men start bands (though I must admit, though I hate plastic surgery, if Brooke Burke were the prize, I would be practicing my guitar right now)!?! Even Dave Navarro’s wife Carmen Electra would have made more sense, because she’s been a musician’s pussy prize (and still is). Hell, they should have gotten Winona Ryder or Pamela Anderson, somebody who knows what the balls of real rock stars look like up close (or, god forbid, an actual female rock star like Pat Benatar or Debbie Harry). The other enjoyable part about it is just hearing the songs performed live. While with the exception of the one girl, they are far from remarkable, they’re not horrible either. I’d love to see what the download sales of the songs done in the series are before and after it airs, ‘cause I know I had to hear me some Pat Benatar after the lame black guy tried to do “Heartbreaker.”
I WASN’T WRONG; JUST NOT AS
RIGHT AS USUAL
Battlestar Galactica returned
this week and I must admit mea culpa. It’s a great show. Yes, the fact that the evil robots come in Hot Blonde and Hot Asian Who Have Sex With You is a sad, sad cliché, but the blonde playing Starbuck ain’t gonna win any beauty pageants and the growing romance between her and Apollo (played by a pretty boy actor who I thought was gay only to learn was English…and actually a blonde) has been wonderfully and subtlety developed. It came to a minor head in the episode where she sleeps with Baltar (played by gay friend from Bridget Jones’s Diary)---only to call out Apollo’s name. Later, when a jealous Apollo picks a fight with her, though refusing to admit why, it ends with a heartbreaking apology from her for hurting him…all the while on a giant spaceship somewhere in the galaxy being chased by genocidal robots they created. But this is why Star Trek has been failing for the last decade while shows like this and Farscape have picked up the baton and gone running. They don’t fill their shows with lots technobabble. It’s about people…who just happen to be in space fighting robots and aliens. And they’re three-dimensional people too, who fuck up just as much as they excel. Adama in this version isn’t some noble Moses figure leading his people to “the promised land.” This time he’s an arrogant hardass who had the president arrested when he felt she compromised them. Colonel Tighe is still his loyal second, but now he’s a drunk with a slutty drunk wife. Apollo actually committed mutiny and joined with the president and was arrested right alongside her. Boomer is no longer a useless black guy, but a Asian woman who is a primary character, because she’s also Cylon who doesn’t know she is and when she realizes this, puts a gun in her mouth and tries to kill herself (she fails, only putting a hole in her cheek and living long enough to gun Adama down on the bridge). Boxy isn’t Apollo’s son and was only seen once…thank god. And the Cylons aren’t killing humanity for the sake of it. They’re religious fanatics who believe they’re committing genocide as God’s
will. I love this freaking show.
CLICK HERE FOR SHALLOW RELATIONSHIPS WITH PRETTY PEOPLE
So a friend of mine does the
online dating thing regularly and after growing tired of it, she ceded
decisions to one of her friends, which made total sense to me. After all,
given how much our friends’ approval matters, why not just let them pick? In any case, she wanted a second opinion, so she sent me a link to this guy’s profile online. He seemed okay, but what was really interesting was the new function to recommending other guys based on that one guy’s profile. Yes, it’s just like shopping online where they tell you “If you liked this book, you might like these” or “People who have bought this book also bought these books.” Only now it’s “If you like this dude, these dudes might interest you,” or “Women who have boned this guy, have also boned these guys.” It’s fucking hysterical. Of course they do it for the women too and she was offended at the women who were placed alongside her. Makes sense. If you feel you’re “To Kill A Mockingbird” you don’t
want a couple of John Grisham novels being offered alongside you.
TOP OF THE WORLD, MA!
Finally, in my continuing adventures
at the real estate firm, one of the brokers took me to see the apartment
Bruce Willis just sold in Trump Tower at 56th Street and 5th Avenue. It’s on the 65th Floor and when you walk in floor-to-ceiling windows give you a view down 5th Avenue to the Empire State Building and even The Statue of Liberty. There are also East and West views. It’s a duplex, so this exists on the 64th floor living area as well. It’s
nice to be rich.
07/11/05 IT’S CRITIC CLOBBERIN’ TIME!
Opening at number one is Fantastic
Four and while it did open well, I still say opening for the weekend of the
Fourth of July would have been even better. In fact, it was scheduled for
that with promotional materials advertising that fact, but then War of the
World announced it too and these pussies blinked. They needn’t have, because despite the bad reviews, the one thing it had going for it was that it looks like fun. Neither War of the Worlds or even Batman Begins looks like fun. But it’s not that good a film. It falls into the trap of making the entire film about the origin and never really getting started. Apparently, no one learned from the successful movies that did not to do this. Superman and Spider-man only had the origin take up the first half of the film. X-Men and Blade didn’t even bother with one. And it’s a shame because they do get a number of things right. The Human Torch is dead on and is easily the best part of the film, while the personalities of Mr. Fantastic and The Thing are accurately portrayed as well. In fact, despite much geek whining about the use of a rubber suit, it does work and effective conveys in a way the comic book never could, just how miserable Ben Grimm could be being turned into a rock monster. But it ends there. The Invisible Woman (who was actually The Invisible Girl all the way into 80’s) has personality matching her name and is done no favors by the horrific miscasting of Jessica Alba (though the sight of her thighs in that skin-tight lycra is worth the price of admission alone). And Dr. Doom, one of the greatest bad guys in comic book history, with one of the best names is utterly ruined and turned into a bad clone of The Green Goblin from Spider-man as a man who goes insane because his company is taken away from him. Awful. Just awful. One of the things that made X-Men, Spider-man or even parts of The Hulk work, is that they took place “in the world” and we got some degree of “realistic” response from the world. In Fantastic Four, a great scientist turns himself and his friends into super-humans and apparently the rest of the world has no interest. Imagine if Stephen Hawkins suddenly had super-powers. Every scientific person and body would be at his doorstep the next day, but aside from public and media interest (which is accurate), no one seems to care. Not the government, not NASA, nobody. And don’t go looking for heroics and world saving. The only thing they do is alleviate an accident on the bridge that they inadvertently cause to begin with. Also, the big fight with Dr. Doom at the end isn’t because they’re protecting the city from him, it’s merely because he’s trying to kill them. Imagine if I destroyed an intersection in Manhattan because somebody was trying to kill me. Think I’d get a parade and public applause? No, I’d get a bill from the city and an eviction notice from my apartment building. And one major aspect from the comic is Mr. Fantastic’s guilt over what happens to the thing. The attempts to cure him are a reoccurring. Guess what happens in this film, only to be tossed out the window to insure a sequel? Yes, a device that will cure him. He’s cured but then turns himself back into The Thing to help fight Dr. Doom, but after that’s over he doesn’t want to be cured any longer. It makes no fucking sense at all. A better story from a better writer would have had the cure only be temporary or at the very least, use the old cliché of having the cure be destroyed in the battle, but apparently they couldn’t find that guy to work on this film. No, the guy they have here was too busy writing scenes like Mr. Fantastic using his stretching powers to get toilet paper when he’s on the can. No, I’m not kidding. That scene is here. But did I mention Jessica Alba’s
thighs in skintight lyrca? Lord have mercy.
EARTH VS. LOGIC
War of the Worlds is down to
number two and my brother took me to task for even half-heartedly enjoying
this thing, pointing out a million other flaws that I didn’t. But the little ones don’t matter as much as WHY
CAN’T YOU JUST FUCKING TRIP THE TRIPODS!?! And WHY WAIT UNTIL
MANKIND HAS DEVELOPED NUCLEAR WEAPONS BEFORE ATTACKING? Little things like a camera working despite an electromagnetic pulse that knocks out everything else simply pale in comparison. And I didn’t even mention the movie pretty much stopping for a scene when Cruise’s son demands to stay with the Army fighting the aliens and they stand there looking at each other, a father realizing his son is now a man WHILE
THE WORLD IS LITERALLY BEING DESTROYED AROUND THEM! So, so awful. This is why the new ads in the paper show the tripods destroying the city, because that’s this movie has going for it. Let me put it this way, I don’t care if I ever see this again, but I watch Independence Day every time it’s on TV, because unlike War of the Worlds, it never pretended to be anything other than a dumb science fiction movie. This is dumb science fiction movie too, but even if you put a gun to Spielberg’s head, he’d never admit it. Oh no, he’s
telling a story about a family.
AND DIDN’T THE DOWNSTAIRS NEIGHBORS
NOTICE?
Batman Begins is down to number
three followed by Dark Water opening at number four and we don’t so the scary, especially when it’s based on Japanese scary, which is both scary and unfamiliar which makes it even scarier, because you don’t know what kills an Asian vampire. Think that cross and Holy Water are going to work on a Buddhist? Think again. This time it’s pretty much a haunted apartment building in NYC, which definitely means I won’t be seeing it, but the funny thing about New York real estate is that a ghost would do absolutely zero in preventing someone from renting or buying a place if the price was right. “One thing I have to tell you is that a man was murdered here and his ghost haunts the place.” “Oh. Okay. So, can I knock out this wall if I want?” The most appealing thing about this is the idea of Jennifer Connelly constantly soaking wet, but no one had the good sense to set it in the middle of summer (with the proper wardrobe or lack thereof) and double that audience. But the problem with these haunted house movies is that if you leave the apartment/home/mansion, the movie is over, so you need the dumbest people in the world. People who feel the need to “investigate” the mystery, when anyone with common sense would bolt the first time the walls bled, or in this case, poured “dark water” into
your room.
THE SCARF OF TEARS WE LIKE TO CALL IT
Mr. & Mrs. Smith is down to number five and does another Angelina Jolie adoption mean Jon Voight is going to break out that scarf and show up on TV crying that she won’t
let him see them? And is it me, or is she turning into the Mia Farrow of
our generation. A much, much hotter Mia Farrow?
DEATH IS EASY, PICKING THE RIGHT COMEDY IS HARD
Herbie Fully Loaded is down
to number six, followed by Bewitched at number seven and Nicole Kidman
may want to just let this comedy thing go, given what lousy taste she has
in them (no, Eyes Wide Shut does not count as comedy) and utter bad luck,
as having to drop out of The Producers musical and Mr. & Mrs. Smith, but
managing to do The Stepford Wives, which had the pedigree of Frank Oz directing
and Paul Rudnick doing the screenplay, but collapsed under the egomania
unleashed on the set. Here, there was no real talent involved behind the
camera to begin with. And Jonathan Schwartzman is only here to pay for
his indie film career and to get the kind of taut, tanned groupie sex that
can only be found in Hollywood. The indie side of the groupie spectrum
tends to resemble Janene Garafalo more than Pamela Anderson.
EVER SINCE THAT DAMN MOUSE
Madagascar is still hanging around at number eight and if this breaks $200M I will puke for an hour straight. It does not deserve this success, but never under estimate the power of talking animals it seems.
LIL’ KIM, FOXY BROWN AND QUEEN LATIFAH IN…THE
WOMEN
Rebound is down to number nine
and that sound you hear is Martin Lawrence desperately calling both Will
Smith and Michael Bay to make Bad Boys III. He’s already got Big Momma’s House 2 coming. No, that’s not a joke. I’ve seen the lame trailer for it. And I’m going hunt down and kill Steve Carr, the director of this crap because he’s daring to remake Mr. Blanding Builds His Dream House. You fuck with the works of Cary Grant and you’re
fucking with me. And could it be worse than fucking Ice Cube in the Cary
Grant role!?! NO! Blood will be spilled! What next!?! Jay Z in fucking Casablanca
with Beyonce as Ilsa!?!
SHA-NA-NA, HEY-HEY-HEY, GOODBYE…
Finally, Star Wars: Episode
III – Revenge
of the Sith is finally going to go the fuck away---until it pops up on video,
probably just in time for the holiday season.
I THINK THERE’S A SEDATIVE
IN THE TEA
If you want to terrorize a
nation with random bombs, might I suggest that England is the second worst
target you can choose, with Israel being the first. They have not only
had it done to them already, but by people totally fucking indistinguishable
from them and only five minutes away. And let’s not forget having spent the last 60 years of having their parents and grandparents talk about the Blitz. My favorite had to be the woman who said her grandfather called her up and said she absolutely had to go to work the next day, because if he went through the Blitz. And if you thought that whole British resolve was a joke or stereotype, just look at the footage of people covered in blood speaking in totally calm terms about what had just happened to them (“I saw Nigel’s head blow off and I thought, ‘Oh, dear. That’s unfortunate.’”) Granted, it might have been a bit different if Big Ben had just gone down along with other attacks in other parts of the country (does anyone even mention the Pentagon attack any more?), but I have the sneaking suspicion it might remain the same. And don’t think they don’t know it. One British editorial (use the internet to read other types of news, people) made of point of contrasting the English response to the American one and not so subtly blaming us for it. Hey, Trevor, I’m trying to feel bad for you here. Don’t
fuck it up.
NOW PLAYING AT DEATH’S CLUB
Okay, so aside from taking
one of the greatest popular singers of the last thirty years, Death decided
she needed the bass of the Four Tops, Renaldo Benson, who was also one
of the writers of Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On.” Also, writer Shelby Foote and apparently she needed the voice of Piglet to go along with the voice of Tigger, as she took John Fiedler too. Because life is stranger than fiction the daughter of the voice of Tigger publicly stated her father was an awful shit as a parent and that she never got the joy from him that others did. Remember this the next time you don’t buy your kids that video game they want. They’ll get you back when you’re dead. And for all you geeks out there, Paul H. Cassidy, the guy who came up with putting the “S” on Superman’s
cape died too.
LEAVING OXYGEN AND WE IN THE DUST WITHOUT EVEN TRYING
So VH1 finally figured out
the formula to success and that formula is women. From Kept to Strip Search
to the latest installment of The Surreal Life and because I’m half-a-chick,
I watch two out of the three (Strip Search is just too low class and homoerotic
to me---which means it probably has a devoted gay male following). Like
last time the latest cast of The Surreal Life is heavy on women, mostly
attractive at the very least and at least two out of the three men are
desirable, though not to the level of former model Marcus Schenkenberg
and the surprisingly buff Peter Brady. They’re also upping the color quotient
with not one, but two Black women this time and Cuban, Jose Canseco. Maybe
next time we’ll get some has-been Asians. I’m thinking pretty much every
woman in the Joy Luck Club not Ming Na has some free time on her hands,
not to mention Geddy Wantanabe of 16 Candles and pretty boy Russell Wong
never became the star he thought he’d be. Also, it’s not just women, but
it’s the Alpha-Females they’d like to be, but ultimately glad they are
not. And they go to great pains to find models that are emotionally fucked
up so the female audience can feel superior to them. But I think the comic
relief male will have to go, especially as they get creepier each time
out. You thought Verne Troyer drunk and pissing was bad? Bronson Pinchot
is one step away from being a sexual predator. It didn’t
help that he was groping Janice Dickinson, who was sexually abused by her
father.
ANOTHER USELESS SKILL
Okay, the next time I tell
you someone is gay, believe me. The first time I saw celebrity chef Rocco
DiSpirto on that lame reality show of his, The Restaurant, I said he was
gay, but was pooh-poohed by you people caught up in your metrosexual madness,
who insisted he was just another case of it. Well, now he’s dating freaking Jay Rodriquez of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. Call me crazy, but when you start to suck another man’s dick, you have to replace the “metro” with “homo” don’t you? Now don’t
ever question me or my gaydar again!
07/04/05
HONESTLY, IS IT SO BAD TO HAVE JERSEY DESTROYED BY ALIENS?
War of the Worlds opens at number one to no one’s surprise and while it’s not the greatest movie in the world, it’s not bad either. Much to my surprise, Spielberg actually managed to make an interesting movie out of this. But if you’re looking for Independence Day Redux, look elsewhere, because this remains somewhat true to the HG Wells story about aliens just coming to earth and kicking the living shit out of us. Even the opening narration (by none other than Morgan Freeman) is directly from the novel. I was surprised they even kept the bit about aliens draining our blood, but they did (though it makes no more sense now than in the book, given how many people they kill without draining their blood). I accept that the story had to be changed, as it’s hardly one of Herbert George’s best works. It’s just an unnamed narrator running from the Martians as they devastate England. Some say it was a metaphor for British Imperialism, others say it was a fear of German invasion, but whatever the case, it’s not the best summer movie source in the world. Making it about a family gives the audience a little more of an investment, but making it a dysfunctional family really doesn’t make it more interesting. Personally, I think the invasion tearing a happy family apart lends more drama, but this probably fulfilled Cruise’s need to s-t-r-e-t-c-h as an actor and play a divorced dad who’s a bit of fuck up, faced with the ultimate responsibility of protecting his kids during an alien invasion. Ultimately, all it does for us is give really lame scenes about angry, resentful kids that can’t be over soon enough. And while it is somewhat intriguing to have a hero who doesn’t know what to do against a threat but run, even though he doesn’t know what he’s going to do once he gets there, the problem remains we know Tom Cruise isn’t going to die (if he didn’t die in The Last Samurai, the way the story and his character dictated, you know damn well he won’t die here), just as we know Steven Spielberg isn’t going to kill any kids, much less Dakota Fanning, so tense moments with aliens are anything but. As much as I hate the “ten little Indians” approach to suspense and horror movies, it was needed here to give the film a little more of an edge. What’s actually succeeds in being disturbing is the modification of the heat ray which turns people into dust, leaving sending their clothing fluttering about in the wind. When you see dust, you know it’s people. Also, the foghorn announcement of the aliens is pretty chilling, but again, it’s for the other people, not our megawatt star. Spielberg has hinted at 9/11 imagery, but aside from the dust-covered Cruise after the first attack, a mention of terrorists and scenes where people have posted the missing on a wall, he does nothing with it. And the film’s ending is the definition of anti-climatic, but that’s from the book too. No great marshalling of forces by the world’s powers, no single bit of deductive reasoning by an environmentalist and a powerbook, it just stops and something should have been done about that. Also, the idea that the aliens have been waiting for millions of years is just ridiculous. Why? If they wanted the planet, they could have taken it then. If they just wanted blood, they could have taken it from other animals. If I remember correctly, the book hinted Mars was dying, which made some sense. I never saw the 50’s version simply because they abandoned the tripod for flying machines (yes, I was that kind of geek purist as a kid), but they’re here and I realize just why they had to go. How can someone not simply trip these damn things? Yes, they’re scary-looking, but totally ineffectual. Not to mention, if you can travel through space, why the hell would then climb into this clumsy thing? They must be cousins to the autistic aliens from Signs, who could travel through space, but couldn’t open doors; who could be killed by seawater, so they invaded a planet that was 75% seawater. So to George Pal, my apologies. I’ll be renting your film tomorrow. Not to mention tracking down the great War of the Worlds concept album from the 70’s.
NO SELL OUT LIKE AN OLD SELLOUT
Batman Begins is down to number three putting Morgan Freeman in the number one and two slots. He says he’s resisted doing movies like this, but decided that if Alec Guinness did Star Wars (which he hated to his dying day), he could do this. Yeah, because making a sequel to Kiss The Girls wasn’t selling out. Nor was the Jack Ryan movie with freaking Ben Affleck. Of the god-awful Deep Impact, or a second movie with Ashley Judd, or…well, you get the idea. It’s amazing how actors delude themselves about what they do, even ones like Morgan Freeman. He should have had a conversation with Michael Caine, who whored his ass out to a record degree in the 80’s and came away with nothing but obscene wealth and an Oscar.
IT’S NOT CALLED A STIGMA BECAUSE PEOPLE FORGET ABOUT IT
Mr. & Mrs. Smith holds at number three and also appearing in this in a small role is Chris Weitz, best known as one of the Weitz brothers who created American Pie (not to mention being the son of John Weitz). He’s been trying to give himself some legit cred recently, appearing in the indie film Chuck & Buck, attempting to make somewhat adult films (About A Boy, In Good Company) and writing a play. Nice try, but you’re simply not going to get away from a movie where you had a guy accidentally drink another man’s semen anymore than the Farrelly Brothers are getting away with putting cum in Cameron Diaz’s hair. Porn stars should remember this when trying to crossover. If people can’t escape the illusion of it, how the hell are you going leave behind that time six guys left their DNA on your face while you giggled? Nope. You’re not playing Martha Washington anytime soon.
ME SMART, MOVIE DUMB
Bewitched is down to number four and to show you how ill-conceived this film is, they actually give Nicole Kidman the same dotty aunt Samantha has on the show and we’re supposed to think it’s funny. Not to mention, Shirley McClane plays the actress playing her mother, but turns out to be also be a real witch playing a witch. Interesting? Maybe if it was explored, which it isn’t. Same for the idea that Will Ferrell’s agent isn’t human either. See, a smart film would have explored that no one is who they pretend to be in Hollywood, which is the ultimate irony of what Nicole Kidman’s character is doing. But that’s in a smart film. This is a Nora Ephron film.
“COO-COO-KACHOO, MRS. LOHAN…”
Herbie: Fully Loaded is down to number five and I saw Lindsay Lohan’s mom on TV and she wasn’t your typical hideous parent to an attractive child (see Berry, Halle, Mother of). But this is going to be bad news for Lindsay, already with a father in jail and an uncle follow. Given that she’s already shown a taste for losers, Momma Lohan’s life has the potential to make her daughter’s look G-rated with the combination of decent looks sudden freedom at middle-age, money and low standards in men. Look for Kevin Federline’s brother to show up on her arm at a premiere saying something stupid like, “She’s not bad for an old chick. I just think of her daughter and do my business.”
BAD MOVIE-MAKING 101
Madagascar holds at number six, followed by Rebound opening at number seven and Martin Lawrence is the epitome of a falling star trying to get a quick recovery with a by-the-numbers kid’s film. Stop me if you’ve heard this one before: a failed former star at something, gets a bunch of loser kids who just happen to need help in the field where he was once a star and while he rebels against it at first, he comes to care for the kids and rediscovers the love of his field as well as the love of the mother of one of the kids and just before “the big event” of his field for the kids, he gets an offer to return to his old job---which he rejects for the kids. There. I’ve just saved you ninety minutes of your life and spared you Martin Lawrence. I’ll take half the $10 you would have paid to see this shit for the former, while the latter is priceless.
AREN’T DRUGS SUPPOSED MAKE YOU FORGET THESE EXPERIENCES?
Star Wars Episode III Revenge of the Sith is down to number eight and here’s some great gossip from a friend of mine which is sure to come out in the book Carrie Fisher is about to write about the Star Wars films. Which of these men did she NOT sleep with: A) Harrison Ford, B) George Lucas, C) Steven Spielberg or D) Robert Duvall? If you guessed “D” for Duvall, give yourself a hand for understanding just how much cocaine can fuck you up that you would fuck not just George Lucas, but Steve Spielberg as well. Harrison Ford is the one thing she got right. As the late, great Rick James once said, “Cocaine’s a helluva drug.”
THERE IS SUCH A THING AS TOO MANY FLESH-EATING ZOMBIE MOVIES
The Longest Yard is down to number nine, followed by George A. Romero’s Land of the Dead at ten, but Undead, yet another movie about flesh-eating zombies (this time from Australia) didn’t even break the top ten. Then again, it’s only in two theaters so it would be a little difficult.
WHO’S GONNA HELP ME GET LAID NOW?
Other people may have died this week, but they mean nothing compared to the loss of Luther Vandross. The man is one of the greatest R&B singers ever and he was only in his 50’s. This is wrong, wrong, wrong. And there is no one to replace him. The closest I can think of is Maxwell, who simply doesn’t make enough music. Luther has been working since the early 70’s, singing back-up for David Bowie on the Young Americans album. Yes, that’s Luther back there. My personal favorite Luther song is his first hit “Never Too Much.” Yes, he rocks his covers of “Superstar” and “A House Is Not A Home” and “If Only For One Night” gives me fond memories of a beautiful half-Black, half-Japanese girl I knew in college whose dangerous flirtations I couldn’t return because I was friends with her boyfriend (like it makes any goddamn difference now), and it doesn’t get better than “Searching” from when he was with the group Change, but nothing puts a smile on my face quicker than “Never Too Much.” And I don’t know which is worse. That his career ended on that putrid “Dance With My Father” shit or that he had to live his entire life in the closet, his obits calling him “a confirmed bachelor” like this is fucking 19th England. Luther was so gay he never even bothered with a fucking beard! In thirty-year career you never saw him once with a woman. He had a great later-career song called “Secret Love” that pretty much laid it out there for you (“My secret love/Why can’t we tell somebody…”)! And this puts his obsession with his weight in an entirely new perspective, doesn’t it? Sadly, straight guys don’t have to lose weight to get laid and so rarely do. I know it really doesn’t matter when it comes to the music, but that’s precisely why it shouldn’t matter at all. Sigh.
PLAY WITH FIRE…YOU KNOW THE REST
Am I supposed to be surprised that middle-aged Terry McMillan finally figured out that her boytoy was gay? Welcome to the perils of being old and rich and dating the young and broke. The first rule is NEVER FALL FOR THE KIDS! Maybe she should give Jack Nicholson a call so he could drop some knowledge on her. And you can tell she’s an amateur because he wasn’t even that good looking. What’s the point if you’re not at least going to get someone pretty?
OL’ DIRTY SAMURAI
There’s lots of weird anime on the Cartoon Network, but it reached a new high when I turned to a hip-hop samurai show called Samurai Champloo. I’m not kidding. The episode I saw opens with a guy beat-boxing, using his sword hilt as a faux microphone to announce how his boy was going to kick everyone’s ass. Then one ronin (if you don’t have a master then you’re ronin, not samurai, so the title is a misnomer) fights using breakdance moves. The same guy who did Cowboy Bebop does it, so it looks great, but it’s no Ninja Scroll. But the music by Nujabes is excellent and worth a listen.
MOMMY, WHO’S THAT GEEK DANCING AT 19TH & BROADWAY?
Well, it’s finally come to an end. My iPod has 3,605 songs on it (and it’s still got another 2 gigs free). It keeps a tally of how many songs you’ve listened to, but when you plug it into your computer, to either add or delete songs, it starts back again from one. So for over a month I’ve avoided plugging it into my computer (aided by a lack of new, good music). I listened to 1,636 songs without repeating one. But Saturday Apple updated the iPod software, so I was forced to plug it in again to get the updates. It’s okay. It allowed me to finally add cds I have that I missed like Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons, Midge Ure and Ultravox (but not “Dancing With Tears In My Eyes” because of that depressing video about the end of the world through nuclear war which were de rigueur in videos in the 80’s), 10CC, The Whispers, Afghan Whigs, The Stylistics. Not to mention new additions like The Pussycat Dolls, (“Don’t Cha”), Tori Alamaze (“Don’t Cha” original version), Pilot (one hit wonder with “Magic”), Paul Nicholas (one hit wonder with “Heaven on the 7th Floor"), Johnny Rivers (“Poor Side of Town”) and the trailer for Rent has stuck “Seasons of Love” in my head, so now I’ve got that too (and it has nothing to do with the fact that Taye Diggs was in the original show and is also in the movie). And there’s a lot of shit that’s got to be deleted too. Sorry, but I wear my iPod when I’m out and about. Not a lot of need for a thirteen minute cut off of one of Maxwell’s albums, which is great for sex, but not for doing laundry. Not to mention I tend to sing along and get carried away…which I how I wound up on my knees at 68th & Broadway belting out George Michael with tears in my eyes (“So you think that you love me/Know that you need me/I wrote the song/I know it’s wrong/Just let me goooo…”). I won’t even get into the bad dancing I’ve done all over this city…
IT AIN’T SUNDANCE, BUT IT’LL DO, PIG. IT’LL DO.
Finally, if you really want to see the short film I made as the result of depression, it was accepted into Tvnet’s First Annual Online Short Film Festival at TVnet. Net. It’s called “Plan B.” But I’m confident none of you will ever see it because it’s not free and given you sorry fuckers couldn’t buy a damn magazine for over two years…