Easy 'n Green

Apocalypse Now

2011-08-31T13:45:00.000-07:00

Tornadoes! Earthquakes! Hurricanes! The weather on the east coast this summer reads like a disaster movie, and the confluence of extreme phenomena has some people spooked. The twisters that tore a swath through western Massachusetts were odd enough, but when a rare quake shook the coast mere days before a hurricane struck, even my most level headed friends were publicly wondering what it all meant. Could it be a sign… of the end of the world?
This odd turn of events comes just months after the famously mocked “Judgement Day” came and went on May 21, without any sort of judgement. Harold Camping and other fringe elements had predicted a global earthquake and the Biblical Rapture would happen that day, but it passed uneventfully. People laughed it off, and it was soon nothing but a memory. So why are so many now contemplating end time scenarios?
The time is ripe for such a line of thinking. The economy is still miserable. The world remains in turmoil, with an ongoing war in Afghanistan and anxiety provoking activity in Iran. Nuclear weapons, once the fodder of so many doomsday scenarios, remain a very real threat. Changing societal mores—the ongoing rise of gay marriage being one prominent example—have provoked a backlash from religious conservatives who warn we’re on a path to damnation. We’re also highly aware of global warming, but an effective and concerted response has yet to emerge. In short, people are stressed out and depressed, and world destroying forces seem more tangible than ever. No wonder we’re imagining an apocalypse.
Pop culture doomsday's have been in vogue for a while now. A rush of zombie films starting in the early 2000s imagined the world falling to hordes of the undead. (“Not a zombie” zombie movies such as 28 Days Later feature ever-more-plausible results of biological warfare or experimentation gone awry.) Roland Emmerich, who made his name with the oddly prescient Independence Day (substitute terrorists for the aliens and you’ve pretty much got 9/11), has continued his streak with the global warming themed The Day After Tomorrow and the mythology exploiting 2012. (The approach of that date has spawned plenty of end times thinking all on its own.) Genre television from The Event to Fringe has imagined a world rocked by bizarre and supernatural events. On this fall’s Terra Nova, Earth grows so unstable that a group of colonists head back in time and attempt to rebuild society in the prehistoric era.
The idea of our world ending has always been dramatically compelling, but the recent turn of events has put me on a Judgement Day movie streak. On the eve of Hurricane Irene, I revisited the hokey but effective Day After Tomorrow, which seemed like a ridiculous distortion of global warming at the time. Watching it now, I found it both fun and deeply unsettling. After all, tornadoes didn’t hit LA, but they did make an unexpected appearance in my hometown of Springfield, MA this summer. And while no tidal wave swept through the streets of Manhattan last weekend, there was flooding in the lower part of the city, much of which was evacuated. On a lighter note, I followed with Mars Attacks!, a knowingly ridiculous homage to space invader films of the 50s. In its kooky, ultra-stylized way, the movie still dramatizes many of our worst fears, notably that our enemies are as intelligent and powerful as they are hateful and mindlessly destructive, and that our leaders are woefully inept. Jack Nicholson’s President Dale seems smarter than, say, George W. Bush, but he still refuses to see the writing on the wall until it’s far too late, giving the Martians second and third chances to attack and kill the American people.
Why am I and others so fixated on the end of the world right now? The superstitious answer is that we all sense the end is truly near. More realistically—and history bears this out—we are merely in the latest cycle of global anxiety and collective fears manifesting themselves as the worst possible scenarios. The world can be a scary and dangerous place—but let’s not get carried away. Rather than wallowing in morbid panic, we’d do well to follow the unflappable example of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, who saved the world more than once on her long-running television series. Refusing to give up her social plans, she once quipped, “If the apocalypse comes—beep me.”

It's Fright Night again

2011-08-30T10:35:00.000-07:00

Seemingly every notable horror title of the past two decades is being remade right now, but Fright Night is particularly well suited for a revamp (if you’ll pardon the pun). The original 80s classic was focused more on the humor of the situation, with a pleasingly hokey tone, some high camp performances, and memorable special effects. Director Craig Gillespie and writer Marti Noxon have the opportunity to make the story far scarier this time around, and they take it. The movie’s no ground breaker, but it succeeds as a suspenseful and entertaining thriller.
This Fright Night seems as much a response to the homogenized Twilight breed of vampires as it is a retake on Tom Holland’s original film. The movie’s bloodsuckers, led by Colin Farrell’s intimidating Jerry, are vicious and visibly monstrous killers. The gore is plentiful and the movie doesn’t shy away from depicting the terror and agony of Jerry’s victims.
The basic set-up is the same: Charlie Brewster (Anton Yelchin), a typical American teenager with a comely girlfriend (Imogen Poots’ Amy) discovers that his next door neighbor is a vampire. This time it’s Charlie’s friend Evil Ed (Christopher Mintz-Plasse) who brings the situation to his attention, and their tortured history—once the best of friends before Charlie decided to ditch his dorky pals and past—is one of the movie’s more compelling subplots. After Ed and a female neighbor fall prey to Jerry, Charlie becomes determined to take him down and enlists the help of Peter Vincent (a scene-stealing David Tennant), a Las Vegas magician in this retelling but every bit the coward Roddy McDowall’s character initially was.
Noxon’s script is a good one: brisk, clever (there’s a choice nod to her past work on Buffy the Vampire Slayer) and engagingly humanistic. There’s real pathos to some of the story lines, notably Ed’s lonely arc. As Jerry, Farrell brings a true sense of menace and danger; an early scene at Charlie’s doorway is dripping with tension. This, combined with a strong grasp of suspense, make Fright Night more frightening than the average horror flick.
The adorable Yelchin leads a cast of characters we can care about, an all too neglected element of horror films. A vintage classic has been remade as something stylish, creepy, and enjoyable.

"Don't Fuck With the Original"

2011-04-16T23:36:00.000-07:00

With great anticipation, I went this weekend to see Scream 4, the latest installment in the post-modern slasher series that revitalized the horror genre in the late 90s. At one point a character tells Courtney Cox's Gale Weathers "You were my 90s!" and the same was true for me and series creator Kevin Williamson, the openly gay man who also brought us Dawson's Creek. I avidly followed the original Scream trilogy, as well as Williamson's various films and series, I wrote two plays heavily influenced by his hyper verbal dialogue, and my closet door was even decorated in tribute to his oeuvre. Scream 4 arrives a decade after 3 (which was noticeably *not* written by Williamson), long enough that what's old is new again-- or at the very least an exploitable brand. While Scream 4 isn't particularly scary (no Scream sequel has been as frightening as the ferocious original), it's great fun, and it does a nice job of encapsulating, in the tried and true wink-wink Scream way, everything that's happened to the horror genre over the last ten years. In the amusingly constructed opener, for instance, we get nods to torture porn, Japanese horror, and the self referential conceit itself, as well as acknowledgements of Facebook and Twitter. (The horror!) As the film progresses, there emerges a running discussion of remakes and "reboots," the dominant trend in horror since roughly 2003, and the obligatory "rules" conversation. This last bit proves sketchy at best: for instance, when was it established that gay characters are immune in horror films? (Clearly Williamson and co. missed the gay pal who got creamed by a bus in Bride of Chucky.) Still, Scream 4 has fun updating its style for a new generation, with a marked increase in gore as well as the brutal physicality of the killings. Towards the end, the killer, wanting to appear the "sole surviving" victim, gives themself nasty wounds and even falls back through a glass coffee table, a gleefully insane bit that recalls the deranged energy of the first film's culprits. While the new teens are nicely developed and appealing, it's in the handling of the returning characters that 4 falters at times. Gale's quip that "I've still got it" seems like an attempt to convince the audience (she lacks that oomph the character had in the original movies), and Dewey is given very little to do besides react to his wife's initiative in the murder investigation and fend off the advances of a smitten deputy. (Dewey is the sheriff now, but he's still seemingly as inept and slow on the uptake as ever.) Neve Campbell, who looks stunning, comes off the best, with a typically strong role in the film and a number of strong dramatic scenes-- plus plenty of butt kicking. (The heroine once praised for "having a Linda Hamilton thing going on" decidedly *does* still got it.) The shortcomings are ultimately balanced out by the satisfyingly twisty plot, and the climax proves that the Scream franchise, after all these years, still has something to add to the cultural conversation. The killer's motivation turns out to be a direct product of our exhibitionist, famous-for-being-famous society, making Scream 4 as damning to the 21st century's spawn as part 1 was to the "desensitized little shits" of 1996.

More old nightmares: The Simpsons Treehouse of Horror!

2010-10-14T19:31:00.000-07:00

At a time when too few television shows seem to bother with Halloween episodes anymore, The Simpsons long-running "Treehouse of Horror" anthologies are like a jack-'o-lantern beacon to all us Halloween nerds. While recent years' entries haven't been as strong (much like the show itself), I love revisiting the old classics. Some of my favorite segments...
"Lisa's Nightmare"/"Bart's Nightmare"(1991)--The second Halloween episode is centered around candy-induced nightmares had by all three family members (in Homer's, Mr. Burns harvests his brain for a worker robot who, natch, is extremely lazy); the first two are the best, with Lisa's involving a fabled monkey's paw: "I must warn you it carries a terrible curse; I myself was once president of Algeria" the middle-eastern shopkeeper warns, to which Homer replies, "I don't wanna hear your life story-- PAW ME!" The family's wishes lead to riches, world peace, and, inevitably, ruin, as Treehouse stalwarts Kang and Kodos arrive from outer space to enslave the newly docile planet. (The comic ET's have had at least a cameo in every Halloween special since the beginning.) Bart imagines himself into a pitch perfect parody of "The Twilight Zone" classic "It's a Good Life," in which little Bill Mummy had an entire town under his psychic thrall. Here, Bart uses his powers to turn Homer into a jack-in-the-box (a direct lift from the original), but also to play pranks like having Moe tell his bar "I'm a big stupid guy with a big butt, and my butt smells, and sometimes I like to kiss my own BUTT! Hey, wait a minute..."
"The Devil and Homer Simpson"/"Terror at 5&1/2 Feet"/"Bart Simpson's Dracula"(1993)--The first is a brilliant vignette in which Homer sells his soul to the Devil, who turns out to be none other than-- hi diddly ho!--Ned Flanders. Like the best "Simpsons," this is filled with tiny details and moments that are utterly hilarious... like Blackbeard the Pirate objecting to the high chair Marge gives him when he serves on Homer's "Jury of the Damned": "Aye! This chair be high, says I!" Meanwhile, "Terror" spoofs another classic "Twilight Zone" ep, with Bart subbing for William Shatner as the passenger (on a schoolbus, natch) who sees a gremlin no one else does. In "Dracula," the crew takes on Francis Ford Coppola's stylized adaptation in typically irreverent fashion (Homer to Bart: "His hairdo looks so queer"). It all ends with a musical homage to-- apropos of nothing-- "A Charlie Brown Christmas."
"The Shinning"/"Time and Punishment"/"Nightmare Cafeteria"(1994)--This entire episode is brilliant, from the pitch perfect "Shining" spoof to Homer's misbegotten romp through time (which keeps changing the future) and the grisly "Cafeteria," in which the staff of Springfield Elementary casually embrace cannibalism. Though funny, the second two segments contain some of the most disturbing material I've ever seen on network television, including lobotomies, the bloodthirsty teachers, and a sick finale in which the whole family's skin turns inside out... and they break into song.
"The Thing and I"/"Citizen Kang"(1996)--In an inventively disturbing segment, Bart and Lisa discover they have another sibling... Bart's "evil" former siamese twin, Hugo, who's been living in the attic and subsisting on a diet of fish heads. The bizarre tale is highlighted by a slew of priceless one-liners, like "A routine soul smear confirmed the presence of pure evil." "Kang" gives starring roles to the aliens, who take on the identities of Bill Clinton and Bob Dole before the '96 election. It's a testament to the show's brilliance that this political lark feels fresh and funny rather than dated.
"It's the Grand Pumpkin, Milhouse" (2008)--While later Treehouse of Horror entries have been a letdown, I have to mention this inspired send-up of the ultimate Halloween special, "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown." Everything about "Peanuts," from the dancing to the nonsense talking grownups, is spoofed, while in this version, of course, the "Grand Pumpkin" actually shows up... and he's pissed!

Old Nightmares

2010-10-13T17:49:00.001-07:00

So when was my last post, 1982? Well, this being October, I am getting into the Halloween spirit and thought it'd be fun to do a rundown of some of my favorite seasonal movies, TV, etc. I'll start with Wes Craven's New Nightmare, the end credits of which are unspooling as I type this. It's not a Halloween movie per se, but I'll always associate it with the holiday because a.) it was released in October and b.) I bought the *novelization* at Spag's, the awesomely kitschy Worcester department store, on one of my family's annual "fall rides." See every year we'd take a daytrip to see the fall foliage (my dad goes nuts for that, as well he should) and wind up at the Halloween Outlet, an amazing store packed to the gills with costumes, props, and just about anything else a horror-obsessed kid like me could want. (They used to display those giant animatronic props, like the crazy electric chair that would go off every ten minutes or so, stopping everyone in dead silence while the dummy writhed in mock agony and smoke plumed outward. Rock on.) On one of these rides, circa 1994, we stopped by Spag's and I picked up the New Nightmare paperback. I was psyched about the movie, though we ironically didn't get around to it until the video release. (Lest you think my parents wouldn't let me see an R-rated horror flick in theaters, I was corrupted at a pretty young age by my dad, who showed me the likes of "Halloween" and "Evil Dead 2" when I was, I dunno, 9? "New Nightmare" is something we totally would've seen at an after school matinee. Why we didn't is a mystery.) It was a typical novelization, I guess, but I liked the meta movie-within-a-movie storyline and the cheesy interludes supposedly detailing the author's own close encounters with Freddy. Plus there were 8 pages of rad black and white photos. So before long I'd read and re-read it umpteen times and was running around pretending I was Heather Langenkamp, wearing her hot skirt and blazer combo and making important Hollywood phone calls on my remote control, er, cell phone. (And yet my parents *never suspected* I was gay? Talk about mysteries.) So when I finally saw the sucker, I already knew everything that was going to happen but loved it anyway. There's so much cheese in New Nightmare-- Langenkamp's melodramatic performance, the stereotypical villainous doctor out to prove that horror movies ruin young minds, dialogue like "Everything is NOT FINE!" to name a few. There are numerous gaps in logic, like the relentlessly unprofessional staff at the hospital (prone to stage whispering and grimly pantomiming about a patient whose mother is IN THE ROOM). But damnit if it doesn't work like gangbusters. The premise was so different at the time-- sort of "The Player" meets "Nightmare on Elm Street," with Freddy spilling out into the lives of the movies' cast and crew (Wes Craven even plays himself near the end)-- and there was some awesomely over-the-top imagery, starting with a cooly redesigned Krueger. For the first time in a "Nightmare" movie, an actual kid was a central character (Heather's on-screen son Dylan, played by Miko Hughes of "Pet Sematary" fame), which allowed for all sorts of connections with Grimm's Fairy Tales and parental fears of death and screwing up your kid. It's just a fun, fast-paced, visually striking movie (the freeway sequence is a stunner), and I still watch it about once a year. "Nightmare 1" is the original, and "Dream Warriors" is probably the best (major soft spot for that one, too), but "New Nightmare" will always be my sentimental favorite.

Every Dark Cloud...

2010-02-02T16:27:00.001-08:00

I often find that even the worst movies have some redeeming factor. Sometimes, it’s the thing we cling to so we don’t feel quite so bad about wasting two hours of our life watching a turkey; other times, these saving graces are so fantastic that watching said turkey is actually kinda worth it. Perhaps inspired by the new film Valentine’s Day—which has a funny Taylor Swift, copious hunks, and little else to recommend it—and definitely inspired by re-reading The Book of Lists: Horror, I hereby present…
10 Great Things in Otherwise Terrible Movies
1. Uma Thurman in Batman & Robin (1997)—Joel Schumacher’s fourth Caped Crusader was so dumb, loud, and grating that it all but buried the franchise until 2005’s Batman Begins arrived nearly ten years later. The sole bright spot was Thurman’s hilarious and inspired turn as villainess Poison Ivy, who truly stole the show with her transformation from amusingly dorky botanist Pamela Isley to the green cat-suited temptress.
2. Jamie Lee Curtis’s death scene in Halloween: Resurrection (2002)—1998’s Halloween: H20 was a surprisingly heartfelt and clever sequel, but the next entry was just as awful (if not more so) than the rest. Added to a beyond contrived “explanation” for Michael Myers’ non-death were annoying teens, Tyra Banks, and a Kung Fu-fighting Busta Rhymes (?!). Curtis was contractually obligated to appear, and it’s her opening scene alone that makes this worth watching. Michael finally kills his beleaguered sister, but not before she plants a kiss on his lips and intones “I’ll see you in Hell!” It’s a great last line, and proved that Laurie had the smarts to exit with grace, unlike the rest of this crappy movie.
3. Every song in Xanadu (1980)—Why did one of Hollywood’s most notorious bombs still manage to gain a cult following? Apart from its oodles of kitsch, Xanadu had one great strength: its music. The fantastic songs by Electric Orchestra, Olivia Newton John, et al are what make the interminably bad writing and wooden acting worth suffering through. Thank Zeus someone had the presence of mind to graft these stellar songs onto a cheeky and clever Broadway script, giving this career-killing oddity a new lease on life.
4. Ryan Reynolds’ body in Van Wilder (2002)—Sometimes it’s a profound performance or artful sequence that makes a bad movie less awful. Other times it’s something less sublime. Ryan Reynolds’s hot, impossibly chiseled physique is the only reason anyone ever wasted their time on this dreadful college “comedy.” Lucky for us its star was as talented and charming as his bod was smokin’.
5. The musical sequence in Not Another Teen Movie (2001)—Brainless teen flicks were ripe for the plucking in 2001, but this spoof was every bit as uninspired as the easy targets it was mocking. All except for one bravura scene in which every character sings their heart out in advance of the prom. It’s clever, hilarious, and creative—everything the rest of the movie wasn’t.
6. The decapitation scene in Midnight Meat Train (2008)—This Bradley Cooper horror flick (adapted from Clive Barker’s story) was barely released to theaters, and it isn’t hard to see why. Slick, slow moving, and repulsive, it was unlikely to find a large audience beyond hardcore gore hounds or perhaps those curious about the state of Brooke Shields’ “career.” One moment is pure brilliance, though: the titular fiend lops off a woman’s head, and the camera acts as her POV—as she flies through the air and sees her own dismembered body. It was the only rewind-worthy bit in an otherwise forgettable flick.
7. The closing credits in The X Files: I Want to Believe (2008)—Faithful fans of Chris Carter’s groundbreaking genre series waited five years for this wholly unremarkable, borderline offensive piece of drivel that was worse than the lamest TV episodes. Ironically, only those who sat through the credits saw anything remotely enjoyable: our heroes, Mulder and Scully, waving goodbye from a paradise-bound sailboat to the cool strains of UNKLE’s “Broken.” Unfortunately, this coda all but defined “too little, too late” for frustrated X-Philes.
8. The costumes in Psycho (1998)—There was no good reason to remake Hitchcock’s classic thriller shot for shot—and plenty of reasons not to. (I’d put Anne Heche’s desecration of Janet Leigh’s character near the top of that list.) At least we were treated to costumes more startlingly original than almost anything else onscreen at the time. From Norman’s vibrant print shirts to Marion’s shower curtain patterned buttons, it was a feast of funky, fabulous frocks. Too bad the “Emperor” in this case wasn’t really wearing clothes at all.
9. Lindsay Lohan’s stripping scene in I Know Who Killed Me (2007)—This ridiculous Lohan “thriller” acted as the red-haired starlet’s Xanadu, effectively killing a once-promising career (along with endless tabloid stories and drink-and-drug fueled antics). The loony tale of “stigmatic twins” entangled with a serial killer is so ineptly made it crosses the line from awful to so-bad-it’s-good. But one sequence is so artful it feels like it came from another director and movie entirely: Lohan’s highly sensual, meticulously lit and photographed strip tease, set to Out Hud’s groovy “How Long.” Maybe if the film had spent more time on the strip club and less on rotting fingers (!) it would’ve turned a profit—and kept L.Lo from fading into gossip column oblivion.
10. Kevin Spacey and Parker Posey in Superman Returns (2006)—For a movie with so much promise, Bryan Singer’s reboot of the Man of Steel was dishearteningly lousy. The half-baked storyline (some nonsense involving a Kryptonite-made rock planet overtaking Earth and Supes’ potential love child) and terrible leads (pretty but bland Brandon Routh and pretty but bland Kate Bosworth, whose groaner “I forgot how warm you are” belongs in the Bad Movie Line Hall of Fame) sank this polished looking but feeble attempt to relaunch its eponymous hero. Relief from this self-important hooey arrives in the form of Spacey as Lex Luthor and Parker Posey as his fag hag—er, “girlfriend” Kitty Kowalski. Posey, who performed similar scene stealing in the lackluster Scream 3, is hysterical in every scene she’s in, while Spacey hits just the right balance of wit and menace. It’s casting so good, it makes you long for a movie that deserves it.
Well, those are mine: how about you guys? Remember anything awesome from movies that otherwise sucked?

Soundtrack Available

2009-11-12T17:28:00.000-08:00

I'm obsessed with soundtracks. By my estimate I have between 1 and 200, encompassing everything from Mean Girls to The Devil's Rejects. (I'm nothing if not eclectic.) I love movies and pop culture, and for me soundtracks are a natural extension of that love-- the songs help me remember great movies, or in some cases far surpass them. (Van Wilder: terrible movie. Pretty awesome soundtrack.) They've also introduced me, over the years, to some fantastic new artists, including numerous rock classics. (Thank you, Running With Scissors, for "Year of the Cat" by Al Stewart. I truly needed that song in my life.) What follows is my personal picks for my ten favorite soundtracks, in no particular order. I don't know that they're the best ever, but they're the tops in my collection. For the purposes of this list, I excluded scores and musicals (perhaps I'll get to those in another post.) Alright, here goes...
Dick (1999)/Running With Scissors (2006): I've always had a soft spot for '70s music, and these two albums represent a wide variety of its best and brightest tunes. Dick is pure pop fun from start to finish, with hits by the likes of Elton John, the Jackson 5 and Labelle. (Sixpence None the Richer-- remember them?-- also contribute a cute cover of "Dancing Queen.") It's just as enjoyable as the movie itself. The moodier side of the '70s emerges in the soundtrack to "Running With Scissors," based on Augusten Burroughs' twisted memoir. Director Ryan Murphy imagined the book as a day-glo fantasia, loaded with kitsch and-- as one critic put it-- "the best '70s pop money can buy." There's Elton John again, along with Phoebe Snow (the sublime "Poetry Man"), Manfred Mann's Earth Band ("Blinded By the Light"), and Crosby, Stills & Nash ("Teach Your Children"). The eclectic selection reflects the movie's dark sense of humor, and also includes such oddities as Vince Guaraldi's "O Tannenbaum" (from "A Charlie Brown Christmas") and Nat King Cole. As for the one contemporary song, Catherine Feeney's "Mr. Blue"? Utterly heartbreaking.
Philadelphia (1993): Jonathan Demme's seminal AIDS drama spawned a great soundtrack, which boasted not one but two Oscar nominated songs: Bruce Springsteen's "Streets of Philadelphia" and Neil Young's "Philadelphia." The Boss took the prize-- "Streets" rates among his greatest-- but Young's mournful ballad is equally affecting. Peter Gabriel also scored a memorable entry with the darkly romantic "Love Town."
I Am Sam (2001): The producers of the Sean Penn tear jerker-- centered on a mentally challenged man obsessed with the Beatles-- avoided astronomical royalties by recruiting a who's who of talent to re-record Beatles hits. The album features a few covers not included in the film; among the best are Ben Harper's "Strawberry Fields Forever," Rufus Wainwright's "Across the Universe," and Nick Cave's wonderfully moving "Let It Be." This ultimate tribute album transcended the movie and became a phenomenon unto itself.
Cruel Intentions (1999): The late '90s resulted in a slew of alt rock grab bags tied in with teen-centric movies; I have quite a few myself, including the "Scream"s, "Jawbreaker," "I Know What You Did Last Summer," and "Go." But this album, from the guilty pleasure starring Ryan Phillipe, Sarah Michelle Gellar, and a young Reese Witherspoon, was the best one of all. There's not a weak link in the mix: from Placebo's sneering "Every You Every Me" to Aimee Mann's "You Could Make a Killing" to Counting Crows' lovely "Colorblind," it's an amazing assortment of alternative music.
Magnolia (1999)/House of 1000 Corpses (2003): Two very different movies that had one thing in common: both had soundtracks provided almost entirely by one artist. Magnolia was actually built around Aimee Mann's songs: director P.T. Anderson was so inspired by her that he decided to write a movie inspired by her music. The sublime collection includes the Oscar and Grammy nominated "Save Me" as well as "Wise Up" (memorably sung onscreen by all of the principle characters) and a world-weary cover of Three Dog Night's "One." My favorite non-Mann song on the CD is Gabrielle's "Dreams," a thoroughly enjoyable pop tune. Meanwhile, Rob Zombie contributed six songs to his directorial debut, the in-your-face horror odyssey House of 1000 Corpses. The title track and "Pussy Liquor" are both outstanding, but the undisputed highlight is Zombie's driving cover of "Brick House" featuring Lionel Ritchie and Trina. I must've rocked out to that one about 1000 times during my sophomore year of college. There's also a Ramone's jam and a cute Buck Owens song called "Who's Gonna Mow Your Grass?" After this film Zombie stopped using his own music onscreen and turned instead to compiling quirky mixes leaning heavily on 1970s fare. I debate whether to include this album or his memorable soundtracks for The Devil's Rejects (House's sequel) or Halloween (2007). Ultimately though, his hellbilly rock collection won out.
Death Proof (2007): Another auteur known for his distinctive musical choices, Quentin Tarantino was true to form with his soundtrack for Death Proof, his half of the underrated B-movie homage Grindhouse. What makes this CD so fun is that it mixes little known rock songs (most of which are played on a jukebox onscreen) with action and suspense score pieces by the likes of Pino Donnagio and Ennio Morrocone. (In true Tarantino fashion, the entire score was made up of bits from earlier movies.) Some of QT's better finds include the wonderfully weird story song "Staggolee" by Pacific Gas & Electric and "Hold Tight" by Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Tich (the latter track featuring prominently in a gory set piece). The piece de resistance is April March's kitschy "Chick Habit," which ties in perfectly with the girls kick ass message of the movie-- and of much of Tarantino's ouvre.
Brokeback Mountain (2005): The soundtrack to Ang Lee's acclaimed gay love story is the most beautiful album on this list. Gustavo Santaolalla's Oscar winning score anchors the collection; it's utterly gorgeous. The movie's middle American milieu is reflected in many of the artists involved: Willie Nelson, Emmylou Harris, and lesser-known chanteuse Mary McBride all contribute tracks. There are also haunting selections by Rufus Wainwright and the under-appreciated Teddy Thompson.
Cloverfield (2008): This is one of the more unique soundtracks on here for a number of reasons. For one, the movie itself is largely without music, save for the opening party scene that precipitates a giant monster's attack on New York. Secondly, it was released as a "mixtape" on iTunes. But what a mixtape. Cloverfield's music supervisors put together a vast array of some of the best up and coming artists in the indie music scene; for instance Kings of Leon, who perform "Taper Jean Girl" and "Pistol of Fire," exploded shortly after the film's release. I enjoyed the whole compilation-- save for Parliament's "Tear the Roof Off the Sucker," which I honestly could've lived without-- but my faves included Coconut Records' pretty "West Coast," Spoon's "The Underdog," and Moby's pulse-pounding "Disco Lies." Cloverfield's one score selection has also emerged on iTunes: "Roar! (Cloverfield Overture)," by Michael Giacchino.

2009's Horror Renaissance

2009-11-06T19:57:00.000-08:00

People like to say that horror is dead, but I've always found that pessimistic. I think there have been plenty of good horror movies over the last decade or so; HorrorHound, my new favorite magazine, even has a cover story this month listing their 20 Best Horror Movies of the Past 10 Years, with standouts like The Descent, 28 Days Later, and Grindhouse among them. This year, in my opinion, has been particularly good, with several very entertaining and original entries. Prompted by the much-ballyhooed Paranormal Activity, I decided to compile reviews for my favorite fright flicks of the year. And heck, it isn't even over yet-- Daybreakers, a sci-fi vampire hybrid with Ethan Hawke and the amazing Sam Neill, opens soon, too!
Drag Me to Hell--It all started, for me at least, with this Sam Raimi mini-masterpiece. After years spent on the big budget Spiderman franchise, the Evil Dead auteur got back to his down and dirty horror roots with a wickedly entertaining scarefest. Alison Lohman stars as a hapless loan officer whose bid to impress her boss backfires-- reeeeally backfires-- when she denies a repulsive gypsy hag an extension on her mortgage. Poor Lohman winds up cursed and tormented by demons who want to-- well, the title says it all. What follows is a cavalcade of scares, laughs, and gross out gags that quite simply never lets up. The fun that Raimi and his cohorts were having is palpable, as they pull out all the stops to deliver a gonzo thrill ride.+
Orphan--After Raimi's demons, I figured nothing could be as rollicking a good time. Surprisingly, this creepy kid shocker comes pretty darn close. Although it's the umpteenth variation on the Bad Seed formula, Orphan distinguishes itself with a peculiar blend of realism and off the wall camp. As sinister Esther engages in increasingly vicious activities, the movie pushes far, *far* beyond the bounds of its predecessors. Strong performances by the entire cast help elevate this from pure trash into something gaudy and over-the-top yet effective and deeply disturbing.
Grace--Released to theaters in a very limited capacity, Grace is a small independent film with a truly creepy concept. A pregnant woman (Jordan Ladd) decides to bring her stillborn baby to term, than inexplicably wills it back to life. But baby Grace has special needs, which can only be met if her mother is willing to do unthinkable things. What could have been tasteless becomes haunting and even moving, with a dense script and an array of subplots that ground this fantastic premise in a very real and tortured world. Special mention goes to the music, by composer Austin Wintory (also responsible for the moody score of my best friend's debut feature Print.)
Trick 'R Treat--This long delayed Halloween-themed horror flick was well, well worth the wait. The fantastically fun movie pays homage to Tales From the Crypt and Creepshow with its interconnected stories involving a serial killer, ghost children, a werewolf, and the demonic spirit of Halloween itself, all converging on a small midwestern town on October 31st. I really can't praise this movie enough. Great cast (including character vet Dylan Baker, Anna Paquin, and Brian Cox). Mesmerizing production design. Loads of scares. And good old fashioned powerful storytelling, with sublime surprises around every corner. Pure horror bliss.
Paranormal Activity--And cementing 2009 as one of the best years for horror in recent memory? This out of nowhere screamer, famously shot for $11,000-- in the director's house!-- and now on track to earn $100 million. With all the hype, a backlash seems imminent, but all Hollywood talk aside... it's a good movie. And it's fucking scary. Suspense and mood are key as Paranormal presents, in docudrama fashion, the saga of a young couple terrorized by an unearthly presence in their home-- one that's followed Katie, the girl, since she was a young child. The simple premise and minimal resources available are more than enough, in the filmmaker's capable hands, to scare the bejeezus out of us. The sound design and eerie nighttime camera shots disturb on a profound level. And the idea that Katie can't escape her demon by simply leaving the house-- that it will follow her wherever she goes-- ensure that the film has an overwhelming sense of dread and mounting terror. By the finale I was literally on the edge of my seat-- but oh so glad that I can still find outstanding scares at the movies.

Crossing boundaries

2009-08-10T17:43:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about writing this post for a while (or any post, for that matter-- I haven't updated in general, mainly because I now have a "real" job as a preschool teacher as opposed to a mindless desk job where blogging keeps me from clawing my own eyes out in front of the computer for eight hours a day). I was revisiting "Tales of the City" recently-- the books and the miniseries-- and thinking about how the friendship between gay Michael and straight Brian resonates with my own life. When Armistead Maupin first released his episodic saga, it was seen as revolutionary in the way it both presented gay sexuality matter-of-factly and casually intertwined the lives of gay and straight characters. Of course, in a post "Will & Grace" world the idea of straight women befriending gay men is hardly a novel one; in fact, it's become cliche. But straight men and gay friend as friends might still be thought of as unusual or taboo. Of course, the ever progressing gay civil rights movement has brought about circumstances that would have seemed unthinkable ten or twenty years ago: gay straight alliances in high school, gay marriage in various states. But the concept of a heterosexual male having a close personal relationship cuts to the core of why gay sexuality has supposedly taken so long to be accepted into the mainstream. Men are more aggressively socialized and gender-normalized than women, and gayness was long seen as a threat to accepted social order, both because it challenged heterosexism and threatened to rip the lid off the homoeroticism that has long existed in society, from fraternities to the military and everywhere in between. Sure, maybe two particularly sensitive straight men could profess to love each other (i.e. the drunken "I love you, man" speech). But how could a straight man knowingly express affection for a gay man without threatening his own sexuality? In my experience, though, this boundary has been crossed and recrossed by my straight male friends with ease. Sure, my friendships with gay men are important, as are those I enjoy with straight women. (My best friend is female.) But I believe that my friendships with men in general are crucial, regardless of orientation. Truth be told, I've had positive and life affirming relationships with straight guys since high school. My first crush was a good friend, a high school athlete who not only accepted and appreciated me-- sexual orientation and all-- but who, I think, secretly enjoyed my fairly obvious attraction to him. (In today's world, any guy at ease with himself is surely flattered by attention, male or female, especially considering that-- as one guy put it-- "you guys are so fucking picky.") Another friend of mine is not only sensitive and compassionate but once joked that he'd plant a kiss on me if he ever saw a particular ex-girlfriend while we were out together! The most recent example of this for me is with my friend Ben, a former coworker. We bonded early on over our mutual love of horror films and have been to see several over the last couple years. While Ben isn't nearly as open as I am about his personal life, he has always listened respectfully to any number of my own problems and provided sympathy and support. The kicker came a couple months ago, when he left a voice mail on my phone. "I love you," he said at the end, seemingly without a second thought. It didn't matter that I was gay. It did matter that he cared about me, and I him. In 2009, men of every kind are finding that labels and differences aren't nearly so important as compassion and respect.

"Drag Me to Hell"=Horror Movie Heaven

2009-06-08T08:57:00.000-07:00

Over the weekend my friends and I caught a screening of "Drag Me to Hell," Sam Raimi's new horror film. Raimi's earned mainstream cred with "A Simple Plan" and the "Spider-man" trilogy, but fans remember him as the guy who created "Evil Dead" and its gruesome, gonzo sequels. His return to the horror fold here doesn't disappoint. "Drag Me to Hell" is one of the most entertaining and relentless scare films in years; its grand Guignol histrionics are accompanied by a wicked sense of humor. The movie centers on Christine Brown (Alison Lohman), a bright, earnest loan officer angling for a promotion while also trying to win the affections of her boyfriend Clay (Justin Long)'s parents. When Mrs. Ganush, an old gypsy woman (Lorna Raver, perfectly cast) asks the bank for a third extension on her mortgage, Christine wants to help her but sees an opportunity to show her boss (the ever reliable David Paymer) that she can "make the tough decisions." Ganush begs on her knees, then angrily hisses that Christine has "shamed" her, and that night attacks Christine in the parking garage in a gleefully extended tussle. It's so gross and outrageous that it's a shoe-in for Best Fight Scene in next year's MTV Movie Awards; amazingly, the film sustains this scene's momentum for the rest of its 99 minute run time. Ganush finally puts a curse on Christine, who then seeks the aid of psychic Rham Jas (Dileep Rao). Jas tells her that she will be tormented and eventually dragged to hell (natch) by the fearsome lamia demon, and over the next few days his prediction comes true. Christine experiences everything from geyser-like nose bleeds to visions of a cloven footed monstrosity, while Clay does his best to understand and support her. (To his credit, this character escapes the trap of being a skeptical dolt, although part of the movie's point seems to be that even his unwavering support isn't enough to protect Christine.) The clever script juxtaposes Christine's mundane, realistic insecurities-- being a former fat girl, fearing that Clay's folks think she's a farm-bred hick-- with the larger than life horrors of the curse. Truly, Christine is trying to avoid a Fate Worse Than Death: burning in hell for all eternity. Raimi makes this film a full frontal assault on the senses, reveling in grotesquerie while continually keeping the audience on its toes with visual gags, creepy sound FX, and whiz bang set pieces. (There's a seance that does its best to blow all of its cinematic forebears out of the water.) The film had me shrieking, laughing, and shouting at the screen, in the tradition of the best horror movies-- and in keeping with the insane, no-holds-barred sensibility of Raimi's first two "Evil Dead" films. "Drag Me to Hell" smashes taboos and takes no prisoners in its quest to freak you out. In so doing, it takes the viewer on a rip-roaring ride and provides bloody good entertainment. If only more horror films gave us this much bang for our buck.

Rest in peace, David Carradine

2009-06-04T14:07:00.000-07:00

I was shocked to read this morning that legendary actor David Carradine had been found dead under mysterious circumstances (hung in a possible suicide) in a Thailand hotel room. He was 72. Carradine played the lead on the classic 1970s TV show "Kung Fu," as well as starring in hundreds of films and television episodes. My father was a big fan-- and in fact was watching DVDs of the show when he heard the news today. A whole new generation got to know the actor, myself included, when he starred as the title character in Quentin Tarantino's "Kill Bill" saga. While Carradine was nearly a cameo player in the first installment, Volume 2 found him fleshing out an incredibly complex, sympathetic, and layered character as he and former love the Bride (Uma Thurman) have a fateful final encounter. Carradine was an excellent actor and, by all accounts, a great man who will be missed.

Yet another reason to make fun of Twilight

2009-06-04T13:53:00.001-07:00

Teenage girls everywhere screamed in unison last weekend when the MTV Movie Awards unveiled the trailer for "New Moon," the sequel to "Twilight." (Very apropos, considering that the first movie won so many golden popcorn buckets that you'd think they were being paid off by the studio-- or, more likely, sent multiple votes by the aforementioned teen girls.) The whole thing cracked me up-- it was the expected blend of overwrought melodrama and cheesy slow-mo action-- but perhaps the best bit of all was when hunky Jacob (Taylor Lautner) transformed into a werewolf. Now, we haven't seen a movie werewolf since Wes Craven's "Cursed"-- and by "we" I mean me and like, three other people who saw that. So what does "New Moon" give us? Um... see the first pic. Who's a cute little werewolf? You are, Jacob! Yes you are! (By the by, I totally stole that comment from Ashley.) I mean, really, despite the ferocious snarl, WereJacob looks extremely cuddly. Like he just jumped out of a Harry Potter sequel, or maybe is related to Bolt, or something. He reminded me a little of Dee Wallace-- spoooooiler!!!-- at the end of "The Howling," also seen above. ("The Howling" is an 80s horror movie which totally rocks, and is worth seeing even if I just spoiled you.) My dad loves that movie, but always had the same complaint: "the only thing I didn't like is that the end, she turns into a CUTE werewolf!" In fact, when I met Dee Wallace I was really tempted to tell her that- and should have! I bet she would have laughed. Anyway, the cutesy werewolf tradition continues with New Moon. Will there be a stuffed animal? Because I think I kinda want one. Mwah.

It's official

2009-06-04T09:09:00.001-07:00

I love Rihanna. I really enjoy her music and am glad she ditched her abusive asshole boyfriend (and I don't blame her for what happened like some people). And now this-- she's rocking a Keith Haring jacket!

The better you look, the more you see

2009-06-03T15:13:00.001-07:00

I just finished reading Glamorama, a Brett Easton Ellis novel I'd been meaning to get to for sometime. (I picked up a used copy at a store Jacob took us to for the express purpose of buying Moxie, an odd regional soda that tastes like medicine. But I digress.) This is the fifth Ellis book I've read, having become a fan through the movie versions of American Psycho and The Rules of Attraction and gone on to read his uniquely satirical and deceptively superficial writing. (It's hard to complain about flat, vapid characters, for instance, when that is clearly the author's intent.) This one shares many of the hallmarks of the author's work: cold, aimless characters, excessive pop culture references and name dropping, gruesomely explicit violence, and narrative ambiguity. It still stands out as a unique and singular achievement, though, as a book that serves as both cultural commentary and hallucinogenic fever dream. Glamorama centers on Victor Ward, an uber-cool male model first introduced in Rules of Attraction, who we here meet in mid 1990s New York City. Like many Ellis men, he's actually kind of a douche: status obsessed to a fault, he treats almost everyone in his life poorly, from girlfriend Chloe to mistress Allison to business partner Damien. But Victor remains strangely sympathetic, maybe because he's less knowing player than lost puppy dog. The first chunk of the novel firmly establishes Victor's high rolling life: endless parties, magazine stories, preparations for the opening of a new club. (A full two pages consist of Victor approving or dismissing potential guests of varying degrees of celebrity.) The irony quickly creeps in as we realize that Victor is, among other things, fairly broke-- while he motorcycles around Manhattan in designer clothes, he can't even afford CDs at the Virgin Megastore. When opening night finally arrives, Victor's personal life basically implodes, and he seeks escape just when a mysterious man named Palakon has engaged him for an unusual mission: to find ex girlfriend Jamie Fields and bring her back from London. (It's clear that Palakon has hidden motives, but naive Victor is oblivious and thinks she's simply needed for a movie shoot.) Once he boards a ship bound for England, things take an increasingly bizarre turn. Ellis introduces the idea that a film crew is following Victor's every move, that this is all a scripted movie, although we're never sure if this is "real" or a figment of Victor's imagination. An attractive girl catches his fancy, then abruptly disappears. When he finds Jamie, she welcomes him into her seemingly idyllic social circle: good looking, successful model types-- including Victor's idol Bobby Hughes-- who mirror the elite types he's become estranged from back in New York. But all is not what it seems, and Jamie and her pals emerge as terrorists capable of acts of horrifying torture and depravity, especially Bobby. Victor gets caught up in bombings, framings, and a complicated involvement with both Jamie and Bobby. Victor professes to be straight but winds up in a bisexual threesome with both characters, a sex scene so relentlessly pornographic that it seems like it was meant to come off as gratuitous sleaze. Palakon continues to confuse Victor with mixed messages, and the protagonist finds himself doubting the motives of everyone around him as well as his own sanity. As at least one critic has noted, Glamorama reads less like a "novel"-- certainly not in the traditional sense-- than as a meditation on themes and styles, with the narrative switching between first, second, and third person narration, and employing the conventions of Hollywood filmmaking (up to and including "soundtrack" songs). Ellis sprawling book encompasses everything from our obsession with youth, beauty, and fame (which seemed to reach a new zenith in the 90s) to fears about terrorism and random violence. "We'll slide down the surface of things," Victor repeats again and again, before he begins to see what lies beneath that "glittering" surface. "The better you look, the more you see" is Victor's catch phrase, and what seems at first like an empty platitude emerges as a thesis for the book. The deeper Victor gets into the world of models and parties, the more he realizes that its one of sinister secrets-- where beautiful bodies can be tortured, hacked, and blown apart, and where powerful forces can manipulate and control your every move. It's a relentlessly bleak view of modern culture that has the ring of bitter truth.

Just 'cause

2009-05-28T11:25:00.001-07:00

I just adore Sia. She has the most gorgeous voice and the couple of times I've met her she's just been an absolute doll-- she even talked to my mom on the phone once following a concert. A lot of you may know her single "Breathe Me" which featured prominently in the Six Feet Under season finale; she's also done some really beautiful music with Zero 7.

It's all led up to this

2009-05-19T06:25:00.000-07:00

Does anyone else feel gypped re: the amount of Georgina we got this season? I feel like her appearances in the last few episodes amounted to glorified cameos; I at least expected more of her in the finale! But despite the dearth of Georgina, the producers still delivered a pretty satisfying finale-- it even paid off loose ends I'd been waiting to come back for months.
The episode begins with the gang graduating from Constance/St. Jude's, which is amusing considering none of them seem to spend any time in class. (Unless, of course, they're taking lessons from a clueless Ohio teacher who likes to hook up with her students.) Blair and Chuck have an awkward pre-grad moment,with her almost-- but not quite-- telling him that she and Nate are dunzo. He doesn't tell her anything, either, even though she knows he told Serena he really does love her. (And really, if he was hiding his feelings, was Blair's BFF really the best person to share with? Right, like *she's* not gonna say anything.) Blair also has a run-in with the three mean girls, who tell Jenny she has a shot at becoming the new "Queen" of the school. Kind of an about-face, huh? One minute she's persona non grata with these bitches, the next they offer her a crown. (I guess they're all just followers incapable of leading.) Jenny insists she's not interested, having hoped the hierarchy would die out with Blair, and Blair walks by just in time to declare that she alone can pick the next queen. The second she leaves, though, the girls tell Jenny they could care less what Blair thinks anymore. In any case, Blair seems glad to leave all the "high school" drama behind, including the girls, Nate, and Chuck, while Serena says she's just glad to be going off Gossip Girl's radar. (Yep, the actual Gossip Girl was discussed quite a bit in this episode.) But she spoke too soon: Gossip Girl email blasts everyone during the ceremony, and naturally they all receive it on their cell phones at once. (Seriously, do these kids ever silence their phones? I'd hate to be at a funeral where the granddaughter's fucking text notification goes off during the eulogy, which is probably what happens with these kids. "Sorry Grandma, but Lonely Boy was just spotted at Dylan's Candy Bar!") Even for Gossip Girl it's a pithy post, essentially just a series of insults aimed at the principle characters. Nate's a "whore" (a reference to the duchess storyline which was the last time Nate did anything interesting), Dan's "the ultimate insider," Chuck's "a coward," Blair's "a weakling," and finally, Serena is "now officially irrelevant."
None of the staff or parents can understand why the kids aren't standing up at the closing. Serena decides she's declaring war on Gossip Girl, and at the incredibly boring post-grad reception, which doesn't seem to have nearly enough students to constitute a senior class in it (plus tons of random non-seniors like Eric and the mean girls), she sends GG a text, reasoning that the mysterious blogger "must be someone in this room." Jonathan's phone goes off-- gasp! (Right, like Eric's barely developed boyfriend would be the title character.) Turns out he's simply hacked into Gossip Girl's mainframe and has access to her inbox. Serena, Jenny, and Eric reason they can use this to somehow expose her, with Jenny laying eyes on some sort of big kahuna re: Blair. (P.S. the Mean Girls have told Jenny she gets to be Queen if she can produce juicy gossip... what a coinky-dink!) But at Nate's big grad party, this plan is foiled. Initially we see Nate talking to his grandpa about the duchess thing and how it could come out. "I had an affair with an older woman," he confesses. "Welcome to Washington," Grandpa replies. "She was married," Nate says. (Welcome to Washington.) "And she paid me." (Okay, Nate, WELCOME TO WASHINGTON!) Grandpa promises he'll protect Nate if need be. I just wish they'd bring the duchess and her incestuous step hunk back. They injected some nice drama into the series.
Meanwhile, Blair and Chuck share another spectacularly sexy scene, with her asking him how he feels about her "headband" (natch), her "stockings" ("I adore them" Bass coos), and finally, "me." "I..." Chuck begins, and that damn text alert predictably interrupts them. (Seriously kids, have you never heard of "vibrate"??) Then, Gossip Girl decides to drop a series of bombs about *everyone*, including one I'd been waiting for since the winter: Blair's liaison with Chuck's uncle. Busted! Blair blames Serena, who also comes under fire when GG exposes tidbits like Jenny's naked kinda-photo-shoot and Vanessa and Chuck's one night stand. Serena agrees that Dan really is an insider, having gotten into Yale, had a lame story published in The New Yorker, and generally insinuated himself into everything while still professing not to be "one of them." Blair angrily yells at Chuck for taking up with "the dregs of DUMBO." LOL. They eventually admit they're not really upset about the affairs, but they still seem to be at an impasse. Serena decides to try and rectify things by asking Gossip Girl to meet her at the Oak Room or else she'll "tell everyone who you are." (It's a bluff, of course.) But instead Serena is greeted by Dan, Blair (also thinking Gossip Girl's coming, Dan deadpans, "well THAT makes sense"), and finally all the other main characters. Gossip Girl texts them all: "You wanted to meet Gossip Girl, well, now you have. I'd be nothing without all of you. And surprise: I'm coming with you." (Meaning the updates will continue into college.) It was a little too precious and not at all surprising (I doubt they'd disclose her identity before the series finale, if ever), but whatever. Serena and Dan make up, promising to remain friends. Blair sees Chuck outside, staring soulfully. Meanwhile, Lily and Rufus have been partying it up with some pot she found in Chuck's room (?!). Rufus, whose issues with Lily have predictably lasted all of one episode, proposes to her and she says yes. (With an old tour bracelet as a ring, which is cute, I guess.)
Cut to a few weeks later, and a gotta-pack-it-all-in montage of scenes. Blair formally appoints Jenny as new Queen, and tells the girls they better obey because she now has damaging dirt on all of them. (I don't remember what it was or how she acquired it, but in any case Jenny now has a shot at interesting story lines again. Plus she actually looked cute in this episode, although Patrick was still troubled by the bangs.) Nate got hit on by the mayor so he's leaving the internship-- and joining Vanessa on that redonkulous "pirogi tour of Europe"! (Ugh, those two deserve each other.) Nearby, a new NYU student calls his parents while looking at newspaper clippings on Rufus and Lily-- yep, it's the love child, and not only will he be joining Dan at school, but he apparently knows who his real parents are. Georgina calls Dan and tells him she's gotten his money back from Poppy, though she doesn't say how. She hangs up and tells a woman at NYU that she wants to room with her "best friend Blair Waldorf." Does it really make sense for her to magically make that happen unbeknownst to Blair? Would kids this rich even live in dorms? Who cares-- the possibilities for drama with those two as roomies are endless. (Unfortunately Georgina won't become a series regular, as I hoped; NBC picked up a pilot with her starring for next season, although her contract allows for 3 GG episodes, according to the stalwarts at Entertainment Weekly. But some Georgina is better than none at all.) That skeezy Carter shows up out of nowhere with info on Serena's long lost dad, and she heads off in search of Papa Van Der Woodsen. (Guess they're setting up the story for next season. Maybe this is also their way of getting out of sending Serena away for school.) And last but certainly not least, Chuck greets Blair with a bushel of gifts. Turns out he jetted off to Europe only to procure her favorite chocolates, stockings, etc. And he finally-- FINALLY-- says, "I love you." I got a little verklempt, I'm not gonna lie. "Say it again," Blair breathes, and he does, and they kiss, and fans everywhere rejoice. Not a bad way to end the season, all in all.

Gossip Girl: They Love the 80s

2009-05-15T09:03:00.000-07:00

It could have been a spectacular train wreck, but Gossip Girl's totally awesome 80s flashback-- the so-called "backdoor pilot" for the proposed young Lily spin-off-- was surprisingly decent. It might have launched a decent series, although the project has supposedly been scuttled already, but more importantly it worked better than expected when blended with the modern day storyline.
The episode starts off in New York circa 2009, with Serena still in the slammer and Blair amusingly remarking that "she's been in jail longer than Nicole Ritchie and Lindsay Lohan combined!" Meanwhile, Lily is headed there to bail her out, and begins reflecting on her youth in California circa 1983. Back then, she'd been expelled from school and calls her businessman father Rick (80s stalwart Andrew McCarthy) asking him to meet her for lunch. (Lily is played here by Brittany Snow, and while the LA scenes are blended cleverly with the modern day ones, I'll describe the entire flashback plot in its entirety here to avoid confusion.) She's shown at a payphone with the sign for Neptune's Net in the background-- a seafood restaurant I actually ate at with Ashely during a visit last fall! (It's delicious and total no-frills-dining-at-its-best.) We learn that Lily's been expelled from school, and is hoping to move in with her dad. But her steely mother, Cece (Cynthia Watros), has been called and what's more, both parents know of her predicament already. Her request to move in with Dad is predictably rebuffed. Snow does a decent enough job as the young Lily-- there's a passing resemblance, and she's relatively believable as a spunkier but still square-ish version of Serena's mom-- but Ritter really nails it as her steely mother. Her hard-edged portrayal is totally consistent with the modern day battle ax played by Caroline Lagerfelt, who also appears in this ep. Cece insists Lily accompany her home, but foolishly leaves in her own car, prompting Lily to drive off to LA instead in search of her wayward sister, Carol (Krysten Ritter). She heads to the diner where she works, and meets a bad-boy looking friend of hers named Owen (Shiloh Fernandez), who would clearly be her love interest if this got picked up for series. (I suppose it'd be kind of weird watching the show and knowing that whatever happens with these two, they won't last-- although I'd love to see Lily's alleged hookups with Trent Reznor and Slash!) Owen says his pal is dating Carol and that she'll be at a rock show if Lily wants to come.
Cut to Lily trying on some of her sister's outfits set to "Dancing with Myself," since Owen comments that her uber-preppie fatigues aren't going to cut it. Of course, this is what we really care about: the clothes and the music! They used some choice cuts like "Safety Dance" and "Blue Monday" throughout the episode, and the fashions were appropriately 80s-tacular while stopping just short of silliness. (It'd be interesting to see them parade around in vintage clothes week after week on a series, although I suspect the licensing budget for all those Time Life retro hits could get a little unwieldy.) The concert scene is appropriately raucous, with a down and dirty CBGB's feel and a much touted cameo by No Doubt as the fictional "Snowed Out." (They must have been up all night thinking of that witty moniker.) Carol is pleasantly surprised to see Lily ("are you wearing my dress?"), and the group piles into her beat up car to head to a party they're not invited to. (I don't remember why they go, but it's apparently required that all Josh Schwartz California pilots involve crashing a party and engaging in fisticuffs. Unfortunately, no one here cracks "Welcome to the LA, bitch!") Lily and Carol have some expository banter about what her life is like now, with an amusing reference to fanny packs (!) and Carol explaining that she is "making it" as she claimed-- "This is what making it looks like! When you just haven't... made it yet." She's a likable enough character and I could relate to her cautiously optimistic attitude about her life. The two actresses look nothing like each other, but they do have good sisterly chemistry. (Plus, the brunette and blonde combo evokes Blair and Serena.) At the party, they clash with nasty rich brat Keith van Der Woodsen, aka Serena and Eric's never-before-seen dad! Unfortunately, his appearance is brief but whets our appetite for details on how he and Lily ever got involved. (If the Lily show's truly dead, I'd love to see some more flashbacks on Gossip Girl next season.) Keith and his friends tell the party crashers to get lost with some particularly nasty insults. In a funny moment, Lily and Carol both demand, "What did you just say??" in unison. "No one talks to us like that!" Lily says defiantly, leading to the aforementioned fight. Next thing we know Lily's been arrested-- just like her daughter two decades later! Lily calls CeCe for help, and her mom-- shown working out to a Jane Fonda video-- is typically unsympathetic. But Carol shows up, grabs the phone, and informs their ice queen mother that Lily will be staying with *her* for the time being and voila! We have a spin-off premise.
The sisters exit the jail and Carol reveals she sold her car to pay bail. "What are we going to do, walk?" Lily asks. "Walking in LA? You've got a lot to learn," Carol cracks. (Patrick informs me that this is actually a reference to a pop song, although I thought it was funny in and of itself.) Carol puts on her sunglasses and declares, "we Rhodes travel in style." Next thing we know they're on a bus together holding hands, which is intercut with scenes of Serena and Blair bonding outside of their senior prom.
Yes-- back to 2009! Lily shows up at jail but Serena's already called CeCe to get her out (and hey, in light of the 80s storyline, that's, like, ironic!). Lily and CeCe have their zillionth parenting debate. Serena's bailed out just in time to go to the prom, with Dan whisking her away via cab, and even bringing her (typically gorgeous) dress along. Blair, meanwhile, is living her dream prom by attending with Nate in a fanciful fairytale gown. (Blair in the gown, not Nate. I quite liked it, and the media ate it up, with Entertainment Weekly declaring it "A+".) But those scheming bitches Nelly, Penelope, and, um, the other one (who've been MIA for a while) are up to no good, rigging the votes so that Nelly steals the prom queen crown from Blair. (What, were they all out of pig's blood?) Blair chastises Chuck when she catches him rifling through the votes, but he's ultimately redeemed when we learn-- of course-- that he was actually securing her victory. He also hands Serena the key to a hotel suite for the couple, because he wants her to have the perfect night. All together now: awwwwwww. But on the dance floor, Blair realizes that having lived her high school fantasy, she no longer needs her high school boyfriend, and explains this to Nate as they share a somber dance. We expected as much, since there has to be more B & C drama at season's end, but Gawwwwd I hope this doesn't mean Nate and Vanessa are going to rekindle their non-flame. (I saw a promo photo of the two of them in next week's finale-- argh!) Meanwhile, Lily apologizes to Rufus for her questionable decision making with Serena, and says she realizes he was going to propose. Rufus accepts her apology, but cautions that this doesn't mean they're back on... yet. (He'll probably be over it by next week. Or not. We're overdue for the return of the love child from Boston, aren't we?) Lily and CeCe share as tender a moment as they possibly can, with Lily forcing a hug on the old coot and CeCe seeming to thaw out enough to realize that her daughter really does love her. (As they embraced, I wanted CeCe to remark, "I can feel your baby kicking!") We close on Blair and Serena sharing their heart to heart, paralleled with Lily and Carol back in 83. Only one more episode left, and it looks like we'll have plenty of Georgina bitchery, Chuck/Blair drama, and Serena vowing to bring down Gossip Girl her (or him??) self. Can't wait!

Just because

2009-05-14T15:20:00.000-07:00

I just happened to see this online shortly after writing the last post. You can click on it for a bigger version. Incidentally, I think Calvin and Hobbes is the most brilliant cartoon strip this side of Peanuts.

The Hauntingly Beautiful Films of James Whale

2009-05-14T13:38:00.000-07:00

I just recently read A New World of Gods and Monsters, an outstanding and exhaustive biography of director James Whale written by James Curtis. Although the British Whale helmed a vast array of movies and plays in his career, he's best know for directing horror classics like Frankenstein, The Bride of Frankenstein, and The Old Dark House (which starred Gloria Stuart yeeeears before Titanic). The book inspired me to revisit the Frankenstein films last weekend for the first time in years.
I knew I loved The Bride of Frankenstein, which is a much jauntier and more comical effort than its predecessor, but I was equally impressed with the original this time. Stylishly directed and handsomely produced, it's a lush and supremely dark story that must have really freaked out audiences in 1931. (I still think it's creepy as all get out, immersed as it is in the world of cemeteries, alleyways, and cavernous laboratories.) The cast is uniformly excellent, with Colin Clive an appropriately brooding and obsessive Dr. Frankenstein, Mae Clarke as his bewildered and anxious bride Elizabeth, and Fred Kerr as an amusingly ornery Baron Frankenstein. Of course, Boris Karloff steals the show in a legendary role as the monster, and while his appearance, mannerisms, and guttural growls may be the stuff of parody now, he remains a startling presence onscreen. As Curtis notes in his book, Whales stages the creature's first entrance for maximum effect. The monster backs into the room, then slowly turns around as a succession of increasingly close shots (a trademark Whale flourish) reveal his ghoulish visage. Jack P. Pierce's iconic makeup frightened the public upon the movie's release; indeed, it frightened most of the cast and crew, and retains a powerful effect to this day. Watching the monster stalk in the background as an oblivious Elizabeth paces her room, I couldn't help remembering a thousand latter day slashers containing the same set-up. But here, nearly eighty years ago, was where it all began. Despite these ghastly details, Whale's success with the material stems from his deep empathy with Frankenstein's creation. According to Curtis, an associate who read the script revealed that he "felt sorry for the damned monster," and this comment unlocked the key to the material. The pitifully misunderstood creature does not set out to create havoc; even his most heinous act, the drowning of a young girl (a scene often targeted by censors) stems from his naive belief that she will float like the flowers they've been tossing in the water. Indeed, it is the vicious and ignorant reaction of the villagers and Frankenstein's own humpbacked assistant that dooms the monster to brutality and fiery destruction (or so we think).
Of course, the massive success of Frankenstein had Universal clamoring for a studio, but it was not until 1935 that Whale relented and gave them one. While Curtis revealed Whale's initial belief that he had nothing new to do with the story, the director ultimately hit on a stroke of inspiration within the original Mary Shelley novel. In the book, Frankenstein's creation begs for a companion to assuage his loneliness, but the would-be bride is destroyed before she can be revived. The fancifully titled Bride of Frankenstein would expand on this plot line to unforgettable effect. This time, the script was imbued with a heavy dose of gallows humor, and opens with a hokey and yet wholly appropriate prologue depicting Mary Shelley regaling her friends Percy Shelley and Lord Byron with the continuation of her ghoulish tale on a stormy night in Switzerland. (The three friends were famously recounting ghost stories when they hit on the idea to write some of their own, leading Mary to write her famous novel. I somehow doubt their banter was quite as polished and zippy as was depicted here, though.) The sequel's plot brings in another strikingly mad scientist, the comically sinister Dr. Pretorius (Ernest Thesiger in a wonderfully flamboyant performance). Una O'Connor steals most of the show, meanwhile, as the hilariously dramatic and screeching housekeeper Minnie. (That Minnie's terrified hysterics have the audience rolling in the aisles mere moments after the monster kills two people is a testament to both her comedic gifts and Whale's deft balance between humor and horror.) Frankenstein is tempted back into more forbidden experiments by Pretorius, who initially appeals to the doctor's still raging curiosity before resorting to kindapping to force his compliance. Meanwhile, the surviving monster escapes the ruins of the windmill where he and Frankenstein clashed in the original film, killing off the drowned girl's parents in the process. (I love the bit with him drowning the father while an owl looks on dispassionately, truly a clever and unsettling touch.) The monster wanders aimlessly until he encounters a blind hermit (a perfectly cast O.P. Heggie) who shows him kindness and teaches him how to speak and enjoy life's pleasures. Karloff was opposed to this development, according to Curtis, but Whale's instincts were correct. The creature is further humanized and fleshed out, expanding on the themes of the first film and showing the audience that the monster is to be sympathized more than feared. In fact, it is only the intrusion of violent villagers that shatters the new found peace and harmony between the creature and the hermit, leading to one of the most poignant images in all of cinema: Karloff stumbling out of the hut's burning ruins, wailing "Friend, friend!" Their relationship has been the subject of some critical speculation, especially in light of Whale's homosexuality. (My queer identity professor even showed us a clip from the film, emphasizing how tender and loving the characters' first meeting is.) The monster himself has struck some as a queer allegory, a misfit who is persecuted simply for being different. While Curtis balked at any such interpretations of the material, arguing that Whale's reserved manner would have precluded any overt manifestations of his sexuality, I can't help feeling there's something to these readings. After all, it's entirely possible that Whale expressed certain themes on an entirely subconscious level, and I'm reminded of that old adage: "Never trust the teller, trust the tale." Besides, the gay Thesiger's queeny Pretorius could singlehandedly elevate the film to a high level of camp. In any case, Bride concludes with another spectacular creation scene and the revelation of one of the strangest and most compelling creatures ever put on celluloid. In less than five minutes of screen time, Elsa Lanchester makes an indelible impression with her bird-like movements, hissing and screaming vocalizations, and utterly bizarre appearance. When she rejects the monster just as cruelly as everyone else, he decides to destroy them both, along with the nefarious Pretorius. (In a last minute editorial decision, the Doctor and Elizabeth are allowed to live, though sharp eyes viewers can apparently spot Frankenstein in a shot of the tower exploding.) Thus concludes an utterly spectacular and hugely entertaining one two punch from the man who would be, fairly or not, forever remembered as the Father of Frankenstein.

H2 One Sheet released

2009-05-08T15:38:00.001-07:00

Scheme a little scheme

2009-05-05T09:39:00.000-07:00

Gossip Girl's Serena continues to be willfully naive. Seriously, it's bad enough that she falls for losers like Aaron (eww) and now Gabriel (who at least has better hair care skills), but then she keeps buying into all of their lies. At the start of the episode, Serena realizes that Gabriel's made off with all the investors' money and she consults Blair and Chuck to see what she should do. Nate's tagged along with Blair because he accused her of using Serena's latest predicament to avoid discussing their issues: i.e. whether or not they should move in together. Of course, Nate is utterly useless when it comes to things like this: he's much better at pouting than he is at devising schemes. Dan arrives to announce that Rufus has sunk his college fund into Gabriel's bogus deal, and Serena apologizes. She assures him she can get the money back, because "the feelings are real" even if Gabriel's African wi-fi bullshit wasn't. She and Chuck meet Gabriel for lunch at Gilt (which I think is the real hotel restaurant that has a sandwich named after the show) and he cops to the scam-- which Chuck identifies as, yep, a Ponzi scheme-- but claims that Poppy has the money now and he couldn't return it even if he wanted to. Chuck is still skeptical, but Serena is convinced that Poppy is the more evil one and falls for Gabriel's "I really came to love you speech" and he even says, "You're the only one worth waking up a Spanish priest for" (a reference to their quasi-wedding). Barf. He's so full of it, but Serena even lets him leave, convinced that "he won't be hard to find" if they need him later. Is this why it was so easy for Bernie Maddoff to bilk New Yorkers? Are all of them dumb, trusting sheep? I thought we had more know-how than that. Anyway, Georgina, who's assuring everyone she means no harm (loved the moment when Blair instinctively pulled her purse away), is recruited to entrap Poppy by pretending to be yet another gullible, rich New Yorker for her to dupe. She's reluctant to join in the subterfuge, but Blair convinces her it's a good way for her to atone for past sins. They provide a makeover-- out with the Jesus threads, in with the Upper East vixenwear-- and Georgina makes a date to meet Poppy for lunch at yet another posh eatery: the Russian Tea Room. Meanwhile, dopey Dan has spilled the beans to Lily (whose layers of pregnancy-hiding props and wardrobe were so funny I included a pic above) about the Ponzi scheme. He's understandably concerned about his dad, but his meddling ultimately makes things worse. Lily decides to pay back the investors and handle the whole thing quietly, not wanting to taint Serena's or her reputation with "a scandal," but rather than be upfront with Rufus she opts to have him paid in monthly installments that will create the illusion his investment is actually paying him off. I'm hard pressed to understand her logic here. Did she really think she could keep this a secret? And why doesn't she want to prosecute the ones behind this sordid scheme? The fear-of-scandal doesn't seem like it should outweigh a desire for justice. She orders Serena not to interfere, even as her daughter is horrified by the sight of Lily having tea with Poppy and accepting all her lies about how she, too, was a "victim." Inevitably Serena goes ahead with the entrapment plan, anyway. When Dan gets wind that his dad is being payed in installments-- which clearly aren't from the bogus scheme-- he calls Serena who assures him she'll get the money back, and also snaps that he may as well tell her mom since he's good at it. Of course, dopey Dan does just that and Lily is furious that her kid's still plotting to bring down Poppy. (I can't really relate to this. If I were in the same position, my mom would probably be the one *behind* "Operation Nail the Bitch." I guess the Lockwoods are generally a less blase, forgiving bunch.) She calls her and demands that she call off the plan but naturally Serena ignores her. (We see her on the phone and spotting Poppy approaching. I can't blame her for ignoring Lily on this one. Just the site of that girl makes me want to bitch slap her, too.) Georgina does her best "wide eyed idiot" act, all the while secretly recording Poppy's request for money to get her in on the investment-- cash only, of course. Meanwhile, Chuck and Blair have time for a Momentous Exchange that provides yet another first. After Nate demands that Chuck either man up and declare his feelings for Blair or let her go, he's asked the burning question by Blair. "I need to know if this is real, or just a game," she declares in yet another Emmy worthy performance. (Seriously, I may have the hots for Chuck, but Blair is the best part of this show. She's both hilarious and heartbreakingly emotional. Too bad the TV Academy is way too snobbish to reward a "soap opera" performance as opposed to umpteen procedural actors.) "It's just a game," he says, and Blair, with tears in her eyes, thanks him and walks away. Serena, who's witnessed the whole scene, asks Chuck, "why did you do that?" "Because I love her," Chuck says. "And I can't make her happy." Big moment: he finally admitted he loves her! Of course, his response to Blair's face ensures that he keeps the love triangle going; pretty clever move by the writers. (Also somewhat more plausible than last fall's "the game is what we do best" bullshit.) Outside, Blair tells Nate they shouldn't move in together, and he agrees he was just "trying to force our issues." But they're still on as a couple, at least for now. Meanwhile, Georgina hands over a satchel of cash to Poppy and cops arrive... but they arrest Serena, not Poppy! Turns out Lily's foisted them on her daughter on bogus theft charges (for "stealing" an heirloom bracelet she gave her earlier) to prevent her from sullying the family name with the Ponzi scheme debacle. Really, Lily? This is your brilliant plan? I say Parenting FAIL. Rufus certainly agrees; not only is he disgusted when he finds Lily's list of the people she's paying off (him included), but he's repulsed by her willingness to have her own daughter arrested. "You sound just like your mother right now," he declares. (Side note: what's with these two leaving smoking guns around for each other to find? They really need to stop being so careless with lists, manifestos, etc. Will they ever learn?) Rufus was actually on the verge of proposing to Lily, but he backs off and tells his kids back in Brooklyn to "return this for me." There was a sweet little interlude earlier where he asked for Eric's permission to marry his mom, which was notable mainly for the first glimpse of that kid we've had in what seems like forever. (Still dig his new hair... but someone write this kid a decent storyline! He and Jenny seemingly exist only for the purpose of giving other characters advice-- it's like they're *both* the Token Gay Male!) The episode ends with Serena posing for the cutest mugshots this side of Lindsay Lohan. And next week-- it's a totally awesome "backdoor pilot" for the Lily in the 80s spin-off! Lily flashes back to her own arrest as a teen in LA, and we'll get a sneak peek at the producers' potential new series, with Andrew McCarthy as her dad and No Doubt cameo-ing as punk rockers. Looks like fun, although I still think Lily's kind of a bitch for having her own kid arrested. But what do I know?

Hostel territory

2009-05-04T14:07:00.000-07:00

Here's a blog I originally posted on Myspace (remember Myspace?). I was inspired to put it up on here after reading a clever queer reading of Hostel on Camp Blood, an amusing site that reviews horror films from a gay perspective. (See the newly added link at right.) I've also been psyched since Eli Roth announced a new feature length film based on his brilliantly grotesque "Thanksgiving" trailer from Grindhouse. ... Just saw "Hostel" for the first time. Interesting movie. Fairly creepy, and disgusting as all shit at times. I found the movie to be fascinatingly rife with psychosexual implications, actually. The film, about three horndog guys backpacking through Europe in search of T & A, was both casually homophobic and rather homoerotic. One of the boys teases another for his "fanny pack" and suggests he and someone else at the club have "fannypack sex . . . and jizz all over each other." Their other friend Oli is constantly mooning people and showing off or referring to his "shaved balls." We also see a fair amount of the boys' flesh, and their sexual exploits seem contingent on a camaraderie with each other; in an early scene, we even see two guys in the same room, having sex with girls and banging their fists together. It's all reminiscent of some gay porn fantasy of straight frat guys who might just be open to playing with each other for lack of girls. The Dutch Businessman who is central to the plot also has a notable degree of stereotypical, urbane gay affectation, and freaks out Josh by placing his hand on Josh's thigh. Josh freaks out, whilst his friends tease him for "finally hooking up." Later, when Josh runs into the Businessman again, he apologizes for his earlier reaction. The older man tells him that he understands and that "for me, having a family was the right choice . . . but you have to decide what's right for you." It really does seem like he suspects Josh is in the closet and is encouraging him to pursue his own path. In the next scene, all three boys have sex with women in the same room, and Josh keeps looking over at Paxton; one has to wonder what the meaning of this is. Josh is ostensibly trying to get over an ex-girlfriend, and yet he seems more than a little sexually ambivalent. Eventually Josh settles down, as does Paxton, the girls riding them. They're the ones being f***ed here, not the girls, a dynamic that is echoed later when one of the girls declares "Now you are *my* bitch." The scene ends on Josh, enjoying the throes of orgasm; it revolves around his facial expressions, with the girl more like window dressing. Josh is objectified later on in the movie's first real torture scene, stripped to his boxers and tied to a chair. (Sadomasochism adds a perversity to this gory, disturbing film; the ball gag that Paxton is forced to wear is straight out of the Mr. S Leather catalogue.) There is an interesting dynamic to the interplay among the film's men; they either join in sexual highjinks together or inflict violent pain on each other's bodies. SPOILER AHEAD During the movie's climax, Paxton plays dead and is wheeled right next to Josh's corpse. Josh's lips are sewn shut, and he stares lifelessly (yet soulfully) at his friend, who is obviously shaken by this. SPOILER OVER Considering what I'd heard about director Eli Roth-- that he was suspected of being an asshole because he's homo repressed-- I wasn't surprised to see publicity shots for "Hostel" that depicted beautiful boys suffering exquisite torture. Although it purports to be just another demented, bloody horror flick, "Hostel" is heavily laden with all sorts of social and cultural messages-- about men, about youth culture, about the way Americans are viewed by the rest of the world and the way that we view (and often exploit) people from other countries. And it does seem like the kind of film a man ill at ease with his own sexuality and masculinity would make. The movie both pokes holes in and reinscribes traditional notions of what it means to be a man; Paxton in particular starts off as the standard alpha male, is made confused and vulnerable, and then asserts his manhood yet again, through the saving of a young woman and through numerous acts of violence against other men. SPOILER AHEAD Actually, he isn't able to stop that woman from killing herself, which may be another reason he takes such a brutal, eye-for-an-eye-- or fingers-for-fingers-- revenge on the Businessman. SPOILER OVER The movie is also infused with a fair amount of misogyny; all the women are either sex objects, treacherous bitches, or both. Like "The Devil's Rejects" and the original "Hills Have Eyes," "Hostel" depicts a world in which their are no clear heroes and the victims end up just as vicious as the aggressors. I think it means a lot more than Roth realizes, at least at the moment. After all, I just wrote a ton about the film-- I think there's probably a whole paper here, actually! In any case, I'm glad I saw it and found it a pretty effective little thriller, even if the Grand Guignol schtick got to be a little much. (As did Paxton's clumsily inserted "I didn't save a girl from drowning once" back story.) The characterizations were good and Hernandez in particular did a good job of making us feel for a character who isn't particularly sympathetic until his life is in jeopardy.

My favorite Whores

2009-05-01T14:56:00.001-07:00

A little over a year ago I became acquainted with the fierce and fabulous members of Whore's Mascara, an electro-pop trio whose songs are fun, danceable, and defiantly, filthily queer. Besides being sexy and wonderful people, members Chaz Kourday (tall dark and handsome in his trademark aviator shades), Lonni Bahls (a "boy next door" type who's actually more perverse than you could ever imagine, or hope for), and Georgia (truly one of the most breathtakingly beautiful women I have ever seen-- with killer pipes to match the glamour) are some of the best and most exhilarating performers on the New York scene. Their lyrics are funny, dirty, and outsized, touching on everything from the connection between religion and lust ("I'll devour your bread and guzzle your wine") to the night Bristol Palin got pregnant ("Let's bareback tonight / Nothing can touch us / Cuz we're white"). I don't know why it's taken me so long to give them a shout out on here... but better late than never. Click on the link to download their latest single, "Monogamous," their first ever love song. You'll be glad you did.

Workin' 9 to 5-- what a way to make a musical

2009-05-01T11:07:00.001-07:00

The past few years have seen a glut of movie-to-musical adaptations hit the Broadway stage, evidently backed by wary producers hoping for a guaranteed hit. This oft-criticized trend has led to mostly mediocre (or downright terrible) shows: the middling Legally Blonde, the universally-panned Young Frankenstein. On this very blog I reviewed Shrek: The Musical, and was maybe a little too kind to it: it was funny, with good performances and high end production values, but the music was utterly forgettable and I can't say that turning that film into a musical was a particularly inspired idea. Maybe musicalizing 9 to 5 wasn't very daring, either, but it does have a secret weapon in the form of Dolly Parton, who played Doralee in the 1980 film and wrote its infectious, Oscar-nominated theme song. She tries her hand at musical songwriting here, and while she may not be the next Andrew Loyd Webber, her story-telling style makes a good, enjoyable fit for Broadway. The theme song has been re imagined as an opening "I want" number for the three lead characters, Violet (Allison Janney), Judy (Stephanie J. Block), and Doralee (Megan Hilty), famously played by Lily Tomlin, Jane Fonda, and Parton onscreen. (It also pops up as a lament for boss-loving admin Roz called "5 to 9.") Their "sexist lying egotistical hypocritical bigot" boss, Mr. Franklin Hart (imbued with loads of personality and even charm by Mark Kudisch) gets a couple songs of his own; Roz's big number is among the most entertaining in the entire play. (We always suspected that old biddy was infatuated with Hart, but this showstopping song declares it in spectacular and hilarious fashion.) The book, meanwhile, has been written by the film's co writer Patricia Resnick, who retains all the best lines while adding some brand new zingers (a few of which poke fun at all that's happened in the world since 1979, when this adaptation is set). The basic plot is much the same, with the three wage slaves bonding together to give their tyrannical boss his comeuppance in increasingly zany fashion. (Act one ends with Hart hanging from the ceiling in a specially made harness-- if you've seen the movie you know how he gets there, but for newcomers I won't spoil it.) Some of the additions are unnecessary, like Violet's superfluous love interest (amiable Andy Karl does what he can with an underwritten role). But none of them detract from the quality of the story or its feminist message, which may be a little corny in this context but still holds plenty of relevance. (And while I was a fan of Legally Blonde's scrappy feminism onscreen, I think this production is more honest and inspiring than the dumbed down musical version of that movie.) Some of 9 to 5's best moments, and it has several, are the spoken word scenes with the girls. The uproarious sequence with them smoking a joint together had the audience in hysterics, and the fantasy sequences that followed actually worked better onstage-- in some respects-- than they did in the film. The three leads are hyper-talented, and while Janney is no great singer, her performance is real and bracing, as are those of her costars. Block and Hilton have the musical chops Janney lacks and display them to great effect throughout the production. Judy's empowered ode after she rejects her pathetic ex-husband was a tour de force, and Hilton matches her sassy, Parton-esque delivery with the kind of vocal range that made her predecessor a star. Their chemistry is also undeniable: these really feel like the disparate types of women who often do wind up as the best of friends. Kuditsch also plays off of them well, and is brilliant as the boss; it's a somewhat one-dimensional character type but in this actor's hands Hart is vibrant and fascinating. The large ensemble performs its choreographed dances with vigor (even if the dances don't break any new ground) and the lavish moving set pieces keep the show crackling as we follow the women from the office to the home (be it theirs or their odious boss's). At its heart, 9 to 5 is a celebration of female friendship and female empowerment, and it's those qualities that give this production infinitely more heart than a zillion other gaudy mega-musical wannabes.

The bitch is back

2009-04-28T14:12:00.000-07:00

Yes, Georgina returned on last night's Gossip Girl. Unfortunately, her presence basically amounted to a cameo-- looks like the real Sparks will fly (see what I did there??) next week. It was still a good episode, though, with the kind of brewing craziness you just know will pay big dividends in the final episodes. The hour opened amusingly with Blair horrified by the prospect of actually having to use the subway. Nate suggests it'll be the quickest way for them to see each other in the fall, when he's at Columbia and she's at NYU. Gotta love Queen B, who declares, "This is why God invented car service." She's kind of like Daphne Zuniga in "Space Balls," when she's told she should only take what she needs to survive and protests, "I *need* my Imperial Hair Dryer to survive!" They also chose well by having the Bleeker St stop be the one in question, since its facade lists an alphabet soup of trains: 6DF. It's enough to give a girl a migraine. Even for these characters, though, it seemed a little much that they actually described a commute between the upper west and lower east side as "like being in a long distance relationship." C'mon, people, it's not like we're talking about *Brooklyn* here! Then again, Blair's line about "Nate may as well be going to school in Guam" seemed knowingly ridiculous. It's enough to scare Nate into securing an apartment in Murray Hill. (So wait, where is the money for this coming from again? His dad's in federal prison and he burned bridges with Grandpa so... um, how? Splainy.) He and Chuck discuss the issue while playing basketball (who knew these guys played sports or did anything besides drink and date?). Chuck says they can still discuss Blair, man-to-man, despite his own infamous past with her. But when C and B run into each other that night and Nate hears about it, he gets jealous and Chuck gets snide. Chuck suggests his friend is only getting the apartment to keep a close eye on his girlfriend. And Nate's subsequent decision to ask Blair to move in is even more transparent. (And again, I know this isn't a particularly realistic show but-- who lets their teenage kids shack up together for freshman year? I'm willing to accept teens getting into clubs and drinking whenever they like but that seems like another stretch!) The run-in occurs when Blair decides to go snooping after Serena's new squeeze, handsome playboy Gabriel. Serena's complaining about his flakiness and this immediately raises Blair's suspicions. When Chuck spots her staked out outside of Gabriel's place, he immediately knows what's up: "You're wearing your beret." (Too funny. An earlier Blair line about Dorota being "handy with surveillance equipment" was also amusing.) They see Gabriel getting into a cab with Poppie, his supposed ex, and report this to Serena. When she confronts him, he says that he's been forced to stay with her so that her investors won't pull funding from his Ponzi scheme-- I mean, charity investment. (Something about helping underprivileged African youth. Or something.) He swears he'll break it off with her in a week, and Serena's satisfied. Blair is understandably skeptical, and I couldn't help wondering why Serena is always willing to give loser-y guys second, third, and fourth chances. (The only decent guy we've seen her date is Dan, and even he's kind of a douche sometimes.) I wanted to shake her and say, "Serena, I'm queerer than a three dollar bill and *I* would make out with you. You're hot! You can do better than these jerks!" (I know, I know, I get so emotional when I'm talking about Serena's love life. She's just a good kid, and I worry about her.) Chuck and Blair orchestrate a meeting between Gabriel and Poppie in which he declares his love for Serena and shrugs off Poppie's threat to pull all her investors. Serena is convinced and even offers to help Gabriel find new backers among her mother and her high society pals. But Chuck and Blair aren't so easily swayed and remain determined to get to the bottom of the whole thing, especially when they learn that Butter, where Serena and Georgina supposedly ran into Gabriel in the first place, was closed on the night in question. Significantly, Blair chooses a trip to see Georgina with Chuck over spending the night with Nate at his apartment. They've decided that our favorite little Hellspawn is the only one who can put the issue to rest, so they drive out to some Jesus Camp where Georgina's been living to ask her. After spending the night in a limo waiting for it to open-- Chuck can't resist referencing the pair's first sexual encounter, natch-- Chuck says it's best if he talks to Blair's old enemy alone. Blair realizes that he only brought her along to get her away from Nate, but Chuck insists it was her decision. "I'm doing this for my best friend," Blair protests. But the tension between the two as their faces hover inches apart says it all. Of course, as promised in the previews, Georgina greets Chuck with a bear hug and shrieks, "Have you been saved?" He tells her it has to be an act aimed at escaping boot camp, though Georgina insists it's not and she's truly found Jesus. Meanwhile, Serena's waking up with Gabriel and decides to put him to the test, asking him about the alleged night at Butter. Does he remember her friend Georgina's "flaming red hair"? "Oh, I remember that," Gabriel replies. Busted! After Serena leaves, Poppie shows up and she and Gabriel are frantic that S might suspect the truth about what they're doing. It's become apparent that they are trying to ensnare the Van Der Woodsens and their wealthy friends in a bogus investment. Funniest bit, when Gabriel rails about not being given enough information about how he supposedly met S: "What the hell is Butter?!" A knock at the door arouses their suspicion that Serena's back, but it's actually Rufus, come to give Gabriel his check in person. Yep, he's investing, too, in a fool-hardy bid to fund Dan's college education. Ruh-roh! Meanwhile Serena calls Chuck, who confirms that Georgina doesn't remember the cad, either. (Funnily, Georgina says she's "prayed many times" over drugging S that night.) Chuck tells her he'll be home soon, but Blair's already taken off in the limo. She apologizes to Nate for abandoning him the previous night, but also wants to know if he just asked her to move in to keep a leash on her. He placates her for the moment, but the love triangle has officially been set in motion, and we all know who Blair is *really* destined to be with. Back in Humphrey land, the fairly un-involving we-need-money storyline-- is Rufus buying a ring to propose to Lily? what will he do now that the gallery isn't selling?-- bored me enough to focus only on stuff like Lily's latest obvious pregnancy-hiding clothes and the fact that Jenny has those awful bangs again. (I was also annoyed by her token reference to Eric's being "out of town." Doing what, exactly? Why don't you just pretend he doesn't exist like in the other frequent Eric-free episodes? I hope he was in P-town at a foam party or something.) There was a brief exchange between Rufus and Vanessa (who, without a gallery to serve coffee at, is probably questioning the meaning of life itself) that left me wondering, again, if those two will ever engage in any sort of massively inappropriate nookie. Why not? It could be fun, and I'm kinda bored of Lily and Rufus these days-- a teenage affair would stir things up. (Haven't they learned anything from Chuck and Blair? It's always more fun when you throw curves at your Core Couples.) Then there was the drunken confab between Vanessa and Dan in which she confessed to having slept with Chuck, twice. She also let it slip that Rufus is short on cash for Yale. I did wonder about the likelihood of a teenage girl being let in to freely drink beers with her teen friend-- guess this was my week to question the reality of Gossip Girl. (If I want hardcore realism, I probably shouldn't be watching this show in the first place.) But it was sort of funny to see Dan's reactions to his ex hooking up with the notorious bad boy, and referencing all the "STD tests" she was forced to undergo. But Vanessa is still boring, even when drunk, which only proves that she should try and seduce Rufus for one last stab at relevance. (I mean, seriously. The girl's now hawking Dove soap during the commercial breaks. She's the character equivalent of watching paint dry.) The end of the episode was promising, if predictable; Chuck mentions Blair and Georgina perks up at that and decides to accompany him back to Manhattan. Gossip Girl says something clever about the devil in disguise, and we're left wondering: was she faking the whole religious conversion, or was it only a matter of time before a trigger sent her back into Linda Blairsville? We'll find out next week.

8 Summer Movies I'm Psyched For

2009-04-24T13:11:00.000-07:00

It seems like every year the "summer movie previews" arrive earlier and earlier, now that the entire month of May is considered fair game for big movies. I figured I'd throw my hat into the ring with a look at eight movies that I'm personally excited about. It looks to be a diverse season for the discriminating moviegoer: sure, there are plenty of sequels and spin-offs (some of which made this list), but there are also comedies, dramas, and a couple of horror flicks that look especially creepy. Here they are in order of release.
Terminator: Salvation-- The film shoot that launched a thousand internet views-- and even a dance remix-- wasn't just about Christian Bale's fiery temper. It was about reviving one of the signature action franchises of the 90s with a look at the story fans have been dying for: the War Against the Machines. I'm not a huge fan of McG's movies, but Bale is a terrific actor who should excel as the heroic John Connor, and this looks to be one of the summer's real stunners. (May 21)
Drag Me to Hell-- Horror legend Sam Raimi returns to the genre (after a vacation spent making a little series called Spider-man) with this flashy and fun looking yarn. A hapless real estate clerk (Alison Lohman) denies a gypsy a mortgage extension (timely much?) and falls victim to a horrifying curse. Demons, a seance, and plenty of gonzo gross-outs ensue, with Raimi up to his old Evil Dead-era tricks. Sign me up! (May 29)
Bruno-- Sacha Baron Cohen is at it again with a punk-happy "reality" followup to his smash hit "Borat." Cohen is a truly brilliant comedian and I can't wait to see what sorts of irreverent, idiot exposing shenanigans he gets up to this time. (Especially with all the gayness of Cohen's last film amped up for the super queer Bruno character.) One highlight from the trailer: Bruno shows off his newly adopted African baby, which he's naming "OJ," to a horrified black talk show audience. (July 10)
Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince-- Finally! After being denied it last winter, Potter geeks can finally watch the latest spectacular installment, which delves even deeper into the origins of the sinister Lord Voldemort (played by Ralph Fiennes' nephew Hero Fiennes-Tiffin). Expect action, hormonal intrigue (Hermione gets a little too jealous of Ron's new girlfriend) and-- spoiler alert!-- a big death. Take that, Twilight. (July 17)
Julie & Julia-- The next Devil Wears Prada? That might be a stretch, but this classy looking comedy from Nora Ephron does feature the Mighty Meryl-- as cooking legend Julia Child-- and the always vibrant Amy Adams as the frustrated secretary attempting to make all 524 recipes in Child's seminal "Mastering the Art of French Cooking." A frazzled young professional gasping to keep up with an old pro? Sounds a lot less bitchy than Prada, but potentially just as much fun. (August 7)
Taking Woodstock-- How is it that a Chinese director has managed time and again to dramatize such powerfully American stories? From 1970s Connecticut to 1960s Wyoming, the Oscar winning auteur has consistently captured the private dramas of ordinary Americans-- and now he sets his sites on the concert that defined a generation. The movie focuses on a closeted gay man who inadvertently organizes the titular music festival. Along for the ride are the always reliable Eugene Levy (as farmer Max Yasgur) and Emile Hirsch (who some of you may know is my long term boyfriend. Seriously). (August 14)
Inglourious Basterds-- After directing the "Deathproof" half of the criminally under-seen "Grindhouse," Quentin Tarantino returns with this bloody, adrenaline charged WWII tale about a band of Jewish soldiers charged with terrorizing and scalping Nazis. With Brad Pitt as a crazed Southern general and torture porn auteur Eli Roth as a fellow scalper, this should be an entertaining antidote to the usual Oscar-begging war epics. (August 21)
H2-- Rob Zombie once again heralds the end of summer with the sequel to his grisly 2007 remake of Halloween. This time, the splat pack savant has free reign to take the story in outlandish new directions, with Laurie (Scout Taylor-Compton) descending into madness and horror host Uncle Seymour (Bill Mosely) hosting a Halloween festival that's about to be visited by the still murderous Michael Myers (Tyler Mane). Plus there's Margot Kidder as a shrink and Weird Al(!) as himself for good measure! This sure-to-be-brutal followup should ease the transition from summer to fall... again. (August 28)

The girls can't help it

2009-04-21T13:24:00.000-07:00

After another (mercifully shorter) hiatus, Gossip Girl came back with the sort of whimsical, fun little episode that made us like this show in the first place. Not spectacular, but certainly promising as we move into May Sweeps and the final episodes of the season. (Side note: is it just me, or does this season feel like it's been on for two years? Not that I'm complaining, but Labor Day feels like a loooong time ago!) For one thing, Wallace Shawn came back! I thought maybe they'd been holding back on Cyrus because they wrote his icky son Aaron off the face of the earth, but I guess they figure it's been long enough that no one will question his own son not being at the Passover Seder the characters all attend in this episode. (Or we won't ask questions as long as we never have to think about Aaron again-- sorry, all, for bringing back painful memories.) The hour opens with one of those Blair fantasies that used to be sort of cute but are mostly just tiresome. (We get that she likes Audrey Hepburn, but that really only leaves two iconic movies to play with-- maybe Blair needs to start idolizing Joan Crawford or something.) She's still smarting from the Yale fiasco, and then a possible answer arrives in the form of Nate's grandfather, who offers to get her in the wedding party for Nate's cousin Trip if she'll convince Nate to go to Yale instead of Columbia. Nate wants to go to Columbia because the producers want to keep the kids in New York-- er, because he got in under his own steam (whereas Yale was a gimme thanks to the family name). Blair can't resist trying to influence him for her own high society gain, but then Nate stuns the engagement party by declaring a biting "toast" to his grandfather, who Trip told him had ratted his disgraced dad out to the Feds. So much for that plan. What's more, when Grandpa explains to Nate that he gave the Captain the chance to turn himself in but had no choice but to turn him in for the good of him and his family, Nate thanks him for his honesty and then his grandfather says, "In the spirit of honesty, there's something you should know..." and reveals his deal with Blair! I'm sorry, but isn't that a little hypocritical? How is it not bad that Grandpa bribed Nate's girlfriend in the first place!? Blair can certainly be a scheming bitch, but I honestly sympathized with her here. Thankfully a talk with Chuck, of all people, convinces Nate to forgive Blair and by ep's end the two are hugging and kissing all over again. Her earlier claim that she no longer cared about college and just wanted to go socialite wasn't too convincing, but did produce this priceless zinger (after Cyrus offered to get Blair an NYU interview): "I have no desire go to a non-Ivy league school, read Beloved eight times and then experiment with lesbianism!" Meanwhile, Serena was dealing with the consequences of her impromptu trip to Spain with high society pal Poppy in the last episode. Lily is royally pissed and declares "the old Serena is back, and I don't like seeing her." But Serena hasn't even revealed her biggest gaffe: she apparently married hunky Gabriel in a drunken haze overseas, and essentially came running back to escape! She seeks Cyrus's legal advice, since Blair is tied up in wedding preparations on the night of the big family Seder and thus conveniently out of the way. He urges her to tell her mom; after all, "she's your *mother.*" This exchange is overheard by Dan, who's taken on a catering job to supplement his college fund and has wound up at chez Waldorf. He moves easily into morally superior mode: "How does one not *know* if one is married?" (I don't know, Humphrey: how does *anyone* not know if one is married? Such is life.) Eventually Lily and Rufus arrive for dinner, followed by Gabriel, who's tracked Serena down, and the evening descends into a farce. Dan has to pretend to be Serena's on-again boyfriend and date for the Seder for Gabriel, Rufus, and Lily, while also fulfilling his role as "cater waiter" (which btw is my new favorite profession) for Eleanor, prompting all sorts of silliness. Meanwhile poor Cyrus is trying to actually, you know, have a religious dinner, while Eleanor just wants to know when they eat. "She never mentioned you," Gabriel says, to which Dan replies, "I must have come up once or twice..." Meanwhile, Eleanor's mandate that Dan "make himself more presentable" strikes Rufus as rude, but Dan declares, "I'm just gonna go with it." And Lily can't believe Serena and Dan are back on yet again. Eventually, of course, the whole thing comes crashing down and Dan cops to his role in the affair, at least. When Serena realizes Gabriel's gone, she follows him, and he tells her they weren't married in Spain, after all, but he really likes her. They kiss, and just then a distraught Blair shows up (before Nate makes nice with her at episode's end). The two share some cathartic girl talk, reminding us that their tempestuous friendship is often at the core of the show. (I knew teenage girls who were friends in high school and alternately adored and despised each other-- that love/hate dynamic seems to be par for the course sometimes.) Serena leaves Gabriel a sweet voice mail, while Blair has a touching moment with Cyrus-- taking him up on the NYU offer-- right before Nate comes to see her. She says "I'm so sorry" and runs into his arms. Serena's just found out she got into Brown, but her burgeoning love seems less auspicious; cut to Gabriel and Poppy having a vague but clearly scheming conversation. Last but certainly not least, this episode featured some interesting bits for Chuck and Jenny; the latter appears to be taking baby steps towards having a life of her own. She's got a cute, soft-spoken new love interest named Elliot (even if they do lame things like play Monopoly at home) and she stands up to Chuck in a rare ballsy moment. After he realizes his paramour of the night is someone he's already slept with, he kicks her out and randomly insults Jenny. ("Big shock; the girl from Brooklyn is a renter," he quips.) Jenny tells him off, saying that just because he's bored doesn't mean he should try to crap on other people's lives; besides, hers and Lily's families constitute "the only people in your life you don't have to pay to be there" and reminds him that in light of his attempt to force himself on her last year, she could probably get him thrown out of the apartment if she wanted to. Chuck later comes back to her and acknowledges her point, while also apologizing for last year's incident (which actually happened way back in the series premiere). He vows that if the Humphreys do end up moving in, he'll move out. It was a very interesting and unexpected scene, with two characters whose paths have rarely crossed-- at least directly-- since that fateful premiere. I suppose it's also worth mentioning that Rufus randomly announced he's selling the gallery, both to raise college money and because he's not enjoying art anymore. Dan asks what he'll do now, and he says he's not sure, but my money's on a revived music career. Meanwhile, this may have been the most blatant Kelly-Rutherford-is-hugely-pregnant episode yet, with all manner of conspicuously flowing dresses and coats on display. I can't wait till she pops that baby out so the producers can finally stop playing Hide the Bump. My favorite moment of all, though, wasn't in the episode itself, but at the end of the promo for next week: a breathless Georgina (Michelle Trachtenberg) hugs Chuck and blares, "Have you been saved???" Only time will tell if the bitch has gone fundy (or if it's all just an act), but the clip made me laugh out loud and I am dying for next week already.

An early look at H2

2009-04-03T09:34:00.000-07:00

So as a Halloween fan, I had mixed feelings about Dimension's "H2"-- until it was announced that Rob Zombie would be returning to direct. Free from the constraints of an existing movie-- sorry for those who were hoping for a remake of the dimly lit hospital opus "Halloween II" (1981)-- Zombie looks like he's really going crazy in his usual manner. Early reports and pics from the set have included elaborate Halloween decorations (i.e. a giant jack-'o-lantern house) and quirky characters like Zombie stalwart Bill Mosely as TV horror host "Uncle Seymour Coffins." Now, the director's posted an image of the adorable Scout Taylor Compton on set as Laurie Strode. Laurie's said to be wilder and more damaged in this film-- think good girl gone waaay bad-- and this sexy, compelling pic hammers that home. (Note the Alice Cooper poster in the background-- yep, we're in Rob Zombie territory alright!) Looks promising; the movie opens August 29th.

Chillin' Like a Villain

2009-04-02T14:41:00.000-07:00

Entertainment Weekly just did a very entertaining issue featuring their picks for the greatest heroes and villains of all time. A lot of them matched what mine would be (and those that didn't were covered by Stephen King's own editorial on great baddies in literature), but I still thought it would be fun to do my own list of ten favorite villains. In no particular order, here's my own rogues gallery...
The Joker & Two-Face. As a lifelong Batman fan, I couldn't do this list without at least a couple of the Dark Knight's awesomely colorful foes. The Riddler, Catwoman, the Penguin, Clayface... the list goes on and on. But tops goes to the fiendishly demented Joker, who's appeared successfully in so many different incarnations he practically rivals Dracula. There's the original comic creation (initially dark, then goofier in the 50s, then scary again in the 80s-on); the amusing Cesar Romero take from the camp classic "Batman" TV series; the iconic Jack Nicholson portrayal in 1989's "Batman"; and the wonderfully vibrant version from "Batman: The Animated Series" voiced by Mark Hamill. Of course, last year saw Heath Ledger set a brand new standard for onscreen Jokers with his compellingly twisted, Oscar-winning interpretation. While the Joker is a classic maniac, Two-Face is a more multi-layered affair. He's a tragic figure whose darkness is underscored by the fact that he was once a district attorney crusading for justice. But an unfortunate courtroom incident (acid in the face didn't help the Phantom of the Opera, either) warped both his mind and his mug. Now, the split-personality baddie is out for revenge on Batman and anyone else who wronged him with elaborate gimmicks and his ever present coin toss. I loved the "Animated Series" version of his story, which was a surprisingly heartfelt meditation on mental illness for a weekday show ostensibly aimed at kids; last summer's "Dark Knight" didn't get enough credit for how well it handled its *other* big villain, as marvelously portrayed by Aaron Eckhart. The filmmakers and actor pulled off the tricky feet of making Harvey/Two-Face both sympathetic and frightening, which goes to the core of this unique character.
Dracula is the first great horror villain, and like the Joker he's been portrayed countless times in ways ranging from the serious (Bela Lugosi's classic "Dracula") to the silly (Leslie Nielsen in "Dracula: Dead and Loving It"). The Gothic and immortal count is another tragic figure whose villainy is an understandable side effect of his wretched luck. Dracula is a great villain because he's as seductive and appealing as he is loathsome. My personal favorite Drac? Gary Oldman's brilliant turn in the visually dazzling "Bram Stoker's Dracula."
The Wicked Witch of the West & the Grand High Witch. As a kid my teachers were concerned that I was too fixated on witches and monsters. Maybe they were right. I was a sucker for anything involving a witch, from "Snow White" (the first movie I saw at the theaters) to the bizarre animated special "Witch's Night Out." Of course, the greatest of all witches is Margret Hamilton's immortal Wicked Witch, who terrorizes Oz with her horrible powers and limitless cruelty. (An early version of the film, with the green-skinned hag intoning "You can't even *imagine* the things I'm gonna do to you," had children in tears at test screenings.) Other kids were traumatized by this aspect of "The Wizard of Oz," but me, I lived for anything involving this stunning sorceress and her broomstick. Plus, Winged Monkeys? Best. Henchmen. Ever. Meanwhile, Roald Dahl's equally menacing Grand High Witch leaped from the page to the screen in Nicolas Roeg's 1990 adaptation of "The Witches." Anjelica Huston did a phenomenal job imbuing the child-hating leader of a murderous coven with personality and wit. But it was Jim Henson's Creature Shop that completed the transformation with eye-popping makeup effects. It doesn't hurt that the Grand High Witch can shoot fatal laser beams from her eyes.
Norman Bates, Michael Myers & Freddy Krueger. As a die hard horror fan, I had to give a shout out to this troika of iconic slashers. Of course, Tony Perkin's indelible Norman Bates is the grand daddy of them all; as at least one critic noted, many of the films released in "Psycho's" wake played like extended versions of the shower scene. But no other horror villain was as complex or sympathetic as Bates, a shy "boy next door" hiding a deadly secret. (Mean Mom is, of course, all in his head.) While Bates functions as "Psycho's" villain in some respects, his likability and struggles simultaneously establish him as a folk hero. Nearly two decades later, John Carpenter used Hitchcock's masterpiece as the template for his own horror classic, the relentless "Halloween." His ultimate bogeyman Michael Myers was like Norman without the personality, another tortured man child who'd lost all sense of personality or heart. Instead, he became a masked murderer whose idea of playing is stalking and killing babysitters. After seven sequels and a remake (with another sequel on the way), Myers has become one of the genre's most enduring stars. But no follow-up or rip-off can match the power of the slow, silent killer from the original film. The success of "Halloween" inspired countless knock-offs as well as a few films that put their own unique stamp on the stalk and slash formula. One of these was "A Nightmare on Elm Street," which introduced the world to reality-bending child killer (and probable pedophile) Fred Krueger. As played by Robert Englund, Krueger was another largely-silent stalker who had the added advantage of an unforgettable weapon-- a glove with knives for fingers-- and control over the dream worlds of his hapless teen victims. Further films in the series continued to explore surreal possibilities while also imbuing "Freddy" with a wise cracking sense of humor. By the time of 1994's "New Nightmare" Freddy had become something of a joke, but original creator Wes Craven proved there was still life in the character by remaking him as an evil demon let loose on the "real" world.
Ursula. Entertainment Weekly credits the Wicked Queen for setting the pattern for Disney villains, but my favorite is still "The Little Mermaid's" hilariously vicious Ursula the Sea Witch. This portly, flashy mix of woman and octopus slithered her way into the hearts of millions with her catty sense of humor and wicked magic. Besides, what gay man could resist a villainess modeled on Divine?
The Cigarette Smoking Man. "The X Files" was both a signature 90s series and a sci-fi landmark. Its one episode monsters were often highly memorable-- the Fluke Man, Eugene Tooms, that creepy limbless woman on the gurney in "Home"-- but its greatest villain was the shadowy Cigarette Smoking Man. As gruffly portrayed by William B. Davis, "CSM" was a sinister presence whose mystery only deepened as we learned the full extent of his role in the vast Conspiracy. Over the years Davis' character evolved from a mostly background presence to a personality so compelling he starred in his own episode, the history-spanning "Musings of a Cigarette Smoking Man." Cementing his status as a great villain? Quite possibly-- spoiler alert!-- the greatest death of all time: turning up in a cave after being thought dead (again), a long haired, leering CSM is hit by a missile-- and we watch his skeleton incinerate before our eyes. A fitting end for a truly "black lunged son of a bitch."

Grandpa knows best

2009-03-24T15:16:00.000-07:00

After a coulda-been-better return from hiatus, Gossip Girl was back in top form last night. The episode was packed with more goings-on than you can shake a stick at, and that included lots of Chuck and Blair intrigue. (Yay!) About the only truly bad thing I can say about it is that it had Jenny back with the overkill bangs and eye shadow. BOO! The girl needs a new stylist-- and a decent storyline. All she ever does these days is knit things and offer sage advice on other character's problems. As the episode begins, Blair is spiraling after her rejection from Yale. She's spending more and more time with skeezeball Carter and seems determined to eradicate any trace of her old overachieving self. Chuck is sure something's wrong so he comes to Serena, who tells him, "Blair just needs space to lick her wounds." "Or I can lick them for her," Chuck quips to Serena's disgust. (S, honey, you kinda tunneled your way into that one.) Chuck comes by Blair's apartment but is rebuffed by Blair, who is lounging around with Carter and, by the way, looks AMAZING. (Seriously, she was in a black bustier and looked hot. I was really glad my straight friend Ben was watching this episode-- he has a major thing for Leighton Meester.) But eventually Serena concedes that their friend needs help, and they convince Dorota to tell her where she's gone one night-- presumably to some debaucherous party. When Chuck and Serena go to the address, a pre-pubescent girl opens the door, leading to Chuck uttering the night's best line: "I see Roman Polanski's in town." Turns out Blair is begging the dean of Sarah Lawrence to accept her, but the whole hazing-a-teacher thing has ruined her chances there, too. "Why didn't you tell us?" Serena asks. "What, that I was debasing myself to get into *Sarah Lawrence*?" Blair snaps. "Right, like I should've put it on my Facebook page!" (Oh Blair, you're so cute and witty when you're angry.) Meanwhile, Nate finally gets an interesting story in the form of his cousin Trip (incidentally played by one of my friend Amber's theater pals). Trip invites him to the Kennedy compound-- er, Archibald mansion. Nate's wary of seeing his grandfather, who didn't do much to help him and his struggling mom during the whole Deadbeat Cokehead Dad Debacle, but Dan and Vanessa convince him to go. Turns out Grandpa-- who's played by one of those seen-him-a-thousand-times character actors no one knows the name of-- was actually quite proud of how well Nate handled the whole mess. What's more, he's grooming Nate for the family business, politics. Trip's fiance, let's just call her Jackie, tells Vanessa that all Archibald men eventually fall into this sort of thing. Vanessa's all weirded out but tries to be supportive. (Albeit in a really martyred annoyingly self-involved way.) Eventually Nate decides he will intern for the mayor's office rather than spend the summer taking a "perogi tour of Europe" with Vanessa. (Side note: really? A *perogi* tour? Reeeallly???) Guess Vanessa will have to find some new perogi to chew on. (That's right. I went there.) Elsewhere in Adultsville, Lily and Rufus share a contrived but sorta fun storyline in which they quiz each other on past relationships and Lily's list is waaaay longer. (There are references to her dating Trent Reznor and Slash, to which Serena responds, "Slash? REALLY, Mom?") In what should come as a surprise to exactly no one, Rufus ends up being all judge-y when he finds out that Lily only gave him one page of her list for fear of his disapproval. (A fear that was apparently well-founded; as I remarked, "like father, like self righteous son.") Meanwhile, the same Archibald family shindig that sees N and V part ways also features some id-fueled hilarity courtesy of Blair, who decides she will undo her straight-laced public image in as high profile setting as possible. It's kind of like that scene in Caddyshack where Rodney Dangerfield walks into the room and insults everyone in sight. The biggest laugh came courtesy of Chuck, though; after Blair alludes to a socialite's husband having made his fortune off porn, Chuck stops to compliment him: "By the way, love your websites." Chuck gets Blair alone for a sexy-tense clinch in which she offers herself to him... but only because it would be "the worst" possible thing for her to do. Chuck rejects the proposal, and Blair walks off. (The catty narration claims it may be his last chance, but we know better than that, don't we?) She and Nate end up sharing a moment at the party, and when Chuck goes to her apartment later he finds Nate's new Archibald family jacket (which seriously looks like something out of Hogwarts). Blair's invited Nate back into her bed! Dum-dum-DUM! We close with Chuck looking up the stairs all intensely. I'm liking these new developments and look forward to next week with Jenny's sweet 16 party, which looks to have Chuck and Vanessa engaging in revenge nookie (obviously a cute nod to their real life coupling) and Serena getting involved with a new man.

Love it or hate it, just WATCH it

2009-03-18T09:27:00.000-07:00

Going into Watchmen, I knew that whether I liked it or not, it would be interesting. I did like it quite a bit, as it turns out, but I'm still not even sure how to describe it. Wildly uneven? Well... kind of. Overlong? Definitely. Visually stunning? For sure. Badly acted? In some cases... YES. (But is that on purpose? I certainly hope so, or else whoever cast the horrendous Malin Akerman as Silk Spectre II should probably be fired.) Adapted from Alan Moore's seminal graphic novel by director Zack Snyder, Watchmen tells the story of former superheroes called back into action when someone starts killing them off. It's set against the backdrop of an alternate reality 1985 with Nixon serving his third term and having won the Vietnam war with the aid of Dr. Manhattan (Billy Crudup), a naked, glowing blue atomically powered hero. The opening credits give us a glimpse of American history peppered with appearances by heroes; one of them even knocks off JFK as part of his latter career as a spook. To say the movie is ambitious is an understatement. Even if you hate it-- and while I didn't, I can understand how some might-- you'd have to admit it's pretty unique. It's hiiiiighly stylized (which mostly works but I could do with less slow mo in action movies like... forever), brilliantly designed (the costumes should win an Oscar), and ambitiously plotted, full of Big Ideas and some very dark elements. (This film is as gory as your average horror flick and one image in particular might inspire a nightmare or two.) Several of the characters are pretty unforgettable. Jackie Earle Haley embodies the over-the-top nihilist Rorschach with the graveliest voice this side of Christian Bale's Batman. His misadventures are some of the sickest and most unsettling in the movie. (His narration, though, is so over-the-top film noir grim that it made me laugh.) Meanwhile, Crudup's Dr. Manhattan is so disconnected from humanity that he splits himself into threes so that he can simultaneously screw his girlfriend Silk Spectre II while tinkering with nuclear power. He talks in a detached monotone that's as funny as it is effective. His origin story, an archetypal "accident grants superpowers" tale with deeper-than-average emotional resonance, was one of my favorite sequences in the film. Jeffrey Dean Morgan's gritty and cynical Comedian is conflicted and fascinating, though I wish we knew a bit more about him and in particular his tempestuous relationship with Akerman's mom, the first Silk Spectre (Carla Gugino). Patrick Wilson's Batman-ish Night Owl II is less compelling, but as played by such a talented actor he emerges as one of Watchmen's most earnest and real protagonists. The love triangle between him, Silk Spectre II, and Dr. Manhattan is the emotional core of the movie, and it's a testament to the talents of Crudup, Wilson, and Snyder that it still works despite the sub-soap opera emoting of Akerman. (And just so you don't think I'm harping on the poor woman, I will say that she *looks* phenomenal.) Also worth noting is the enigmatic Ozymandias (Matthew Goode), a dandy-ish business tycoon and the supposed "Smartest Man in the World," although I didn't feel like we got enough insight into his psyche. I was intrigued by hints that Ozy is gay (we even see a file on his hard drive labeled "Boys"), although I found his role to be rather stereotypical and perhaps even homophobic. (After 300, it's probably safe to say Snyder has some issues with the gays. But his flair for male nudity isn't likely to scare too many away, in any case.) Watchmen is compelling but fairly meandering and given over to cheesy dialogue and arch performances; the Nixon impersonator was fairly distracting and other costars, like Gugino, who spends most of the film in bad aging makeup, perform as though starring in Watchmen: The Dinner Theater Experience. Ultimately, though, it's a complex and intriguing movie, and I wish more movies, superhero-related or otherwise, were this creative and daring. I will definitely have to see it again.

Much ado about Blair

2009-03-17T09:41:00.000-07:00

Yay! Gossip Girl is back. I didn't realize until last night just how much I'd missed those crazy kids. It was a rather entertaining return, too. This installment saw all of the characters involved in the school's production of The Age of Innocence. Never mind that none of them has shown the slightest interest in acting before. I'm a sucker for these goofy gimmick episodes where every principal character winds up in the same situation. All except Chuck, who might as well have been starring on his own show last night for all the interaction he had with the other characters. Continuing the wacky Skull & Bones-like storyline he'd become embroiled in last ep, Chuck struggled to save the mysterious young Elle. After happening upon her in a restaurant, Chuck became determined to save her from the secret society's machinations, only to trust sleazy acquaintance Carter with smuggling her out of the country. But then Carter turns out to be-- gasp!-- a member of the cult himself, flashing his tattoo at Chuck as their limo pulls away. And then two scenes later Elle's escaped, anyway (??), but tells Chuck she doesn't need him anymore; she just needed the money to go off and start a new life. She tells him to give his love to "someone who deserves it." (And seriously, what did he see in that chick, anyway? The whole storyline seemed a little forced and random, and it appears they've now dropped the whole business which suits me fine. Chuck needs to go play with the other children again!) Apart from that the episode was all about Blair, with ever more opportunities for Leighton Meester to show us what a kick-ass actor she is. After telling the ever-present Dorota and Serena that she can't relate to her hopeless onstage role, since everything in her life is perfect, she receives a rude awakening: Nelly Yuki's been accepted to Yale and Blair is out! Seems someone spilled the beans about Blair's dirty doings at Constance and Yale reconsidered. The rest of the episode becomes a whodunit as Blair desperately seeks out her new enemy. As Nelly points out, there are plenty of potential suspects; after Blair accuses her of being jealous, she insists, "People aren't jealous of you-- they hate you!" Nice wake up call for B, by the way. The plot thickens when embarrassing secrets concerning Serena and Yale are also posted online. The girls butt heads for the zillionth time, with Serena sure that she's been betrayed yet again. Insisting she isn't to blame, Blair decides that Dan is responsible for both rumors, although he's so used to her disdain that her latest passive aggressive stint elicits little more than an eye roll. An amusing scene in which the two fight while acting out a romantic interlude ensues; with her head wagging back and forth, Blair looks like she's sucking face with Humphrey. Later, the entire cast breaks character with everyone bickering and yelling. But theater critic Charles Isherwood, who's in attendance (riiiight) compliments the director for what he thinks is some sort of meta approach to the text blending the script with contemporary teens. Two things: why in the hell would Charles friggin' Isherwood deign to show up for a high school theater production? And are we really supposed to believe one of the word's greatest drama critics is dumb enough to mistake a bunch of ranting high schoolers for cutting edge theater? I don't know why Isherwood agreed to this cameo, because it kind of makes him look dumb. Meanwhile, a minor spat fails to prevent Nate and Vanessa from being the Dullest Couple Ever. Seriously, these two are beyond dull! Chace is pretty, but what for the days when he was a duchess's gigolo and not the lamest female character's cuddle monkey! Vanessa does her usual lame "I'm making a documentary" biznizz while helping Serena try and win over her handsome director. Never mind that this guy is pretty obviously gay, with his episode-ending revelation shocking no one besides Serena; he's a total tool, anyway! Still, it was nice to see Serena crushing on someone new and foregoing all the Dan-related angst for a change. But Vanessa's funny coaching of Serena via Bluetooth makes Nate think she's cheating on him, then he realizes it was a misunderstanding, then they decide maybe they're not meant to be, and finally they have an I-just-threw-up-in-my-mouth interlude on the couch, where Nate's watching The Age of Innocence DVD Vanessa lent him. "It's heart-breaking," Nate declares. Ugh. Heart-breakingly lame, that is. (Luckily the teaser for next week promises Nate/Blair intrigue, so hopefully we can finally move on from Our Long National Nightmare of V & N.) Then there's Dan and Miss Carr and the World's Most Ill Advised Relationship. I mean, I understand why they got freaky when they still thought Rachel was fired, but how can they think this is still a good idea? Hooking up at the school during rehearsal, no less? Have they never seen Dawson's Creek or any other teen soap dealing with student-teacher nookie ever made? Jenny manages to drop a note from Rachel-- along with her apartment key-- in front of Rufus, who shows up to confront Rachel and tell her Mary Kay LaTorneau playtime is over. (She had lit a bunch of candles and I kind of wished Rufus would blow them out-- just to make a point.) And who, you may ask, was the one who dished the dirt on Blair and Serena? Why, it was none other than Miss Carr. Dan tells her off for being such a treacherous biotch, after all, and when Blair puts two and two together, she realizes that for Rachel, "hav[ing] to live with it is punishment enough." Dan gets a heartfelt letter from Miss Carr (which Jenny says was "under the door" at their apartment-- is this woman seeking a Rufus ass kicking, or what??) saying that she's going back to Iowa (of course you are, dear) and learned so much from Dan, and can't believe what she did, and blah blah blah. She even throws in a quotation from The Age of Innocence for extra schmaltz. Good riddance, missy. But the damage is done for Blair, too; she winds up at a bar refusing comfort from Serena and insisting that she truly is a bad person, and no wonder S suspected the worst. "You're still my best friend," Serena says, sweetly. Back at Chez Waldorf, Chuck shows up to see Blair (realizing she's the one who deserves his love, natch). But shady Carter is putting the moves on Blair at that very moment. Next week promises a Nate and Blair reunion to infuriate Vanessa and Chuck in equal measure. While I never thought those two made sense as a couple, I think a reunion will be a good way to complicate things... and it will probably wind up pushing Chuck and Blair back together while tearing Vanessa and Nate apart. (Aww, shucks.) I can't wait for next Monday.

Why The Last House on the Left is more than vile trash

2009-03-16T14:03:00.001-07:00

I suppose I should start this review off by admitting to bias-- Adam Alleca is the cowriter of the new remake of Last House on the Left, and in addition to being a fellow Emerson grad, he's engaged to my best friend in the world. So obviously I was inclined to like this movie. But the script was thoroughly rewritten by Carl Ellsworth, with all new dialogue and a number of new twists (including a bit of business involving a microwave teased in the trailers), so even Adam wasn't necessarily going to embrace the final product. Yet he and my friend Ashley concluded it was a pretty damn good movie, despite some reservations, and I'd have to agree. A glossy revamp of Wes Craven's first, rudest and crudest film, Last House finds a more emotional core to its harrowing story without sacrificing any of its edge. Many reviews have lumped this in with Hostel/Saw style torture porn, but I think that what sets this movie apart from those franchises is its humanistic underpinnings. The movie certainly features some stomach churningly extreme set pieces, as well as a rape that is hard to take (to say the least) but there are characters on the screen we can truly route for, rather than a mere gallery of cardboard idiots just asking to be dispatched. (Although it must be said that the villains of the piece are pretty much... just asking to be dispatched.) The Last House on the Left focuses on Mari (Sara Paxton, who resembles Mischa Barton but with talent), a sweet young girl with overprotective parents following the death of her brother Ben a year earlier. Her more accomodating father John (Tony Goldwyn) hands over the car keys so she can spend the day with her friend Paige (Martha MacIsaac). But when the girls elect to follow a shy young boy named Justin (Spencer Treat Clark) back to his motel for some good weed, the situation soon devolves into a nightmare surpassing mom Emma (Monica Potter)'s worst fears. Justin's father Krug (an appropriately menacing Garret Dillahunt) arrives with his band of psychos in tow, and the gang brutalizes both girls and, kills Paige, but not before Mari crashes their car. Leaving Mari for dead, the group winds up on the doorstep of John and Emma, who are happy to offer them a safe place to spend the night... but of course it's only a matter of time they discover both their daughter's critical condition and just who's to blame. What follows is a gripping descent into depravity as mom and dad take a revenge just as sick as what the criminals have done to their daughter. This was the point of the original film, too: how our desire for vengeance can debase us to the level of those who've done us wrong. But while the admittedly effective crudity of the shoestring original left little room for character insight, the new Last House is more fully fleshed out. Critics have called the direction and acting amateurish, but I fail to see either criticism. Newcomer Dennis Iliadis is a skilled visual stylist and wrangles effective performances from all of his principals. Goldwyn, Potter, and Paxton felt like a real family-- with Potter in particular turning in a vivid and sympathetic performance. I also enjoyed the character arc for Justin, who finally manages to stand up to his abusive and twisted father (with Clark showing himself to be a promising newcomer). The bad guys are caricatures, to be sure, but they don't need to be more. We know they're monsters; the compelling part is seeing just how monstrous Mom and Dad will get-- and by extension pondering what our own response would be to such a situation. We might like to think we wouldn't go as far as these two, who create the grisliest kitchen chamber of horrors since Gremlins. But the grisly and intense Last House allows us to ponder this disturbing question from the safety of a movie theater, like all good horror movies do. While Last House isn't a social commentary or a complete grindhouse romp like its predecessor, it remains a potent and compelling flick.

2009-03-06T10:11:00.000-08:00

Usually my posts are fluffy and fun and pop culture related. But today I have to write (and ironically on my birthday) that I am severely disheartened by the series of layoffs that have rocked my company. I'm so tired of this seemingly hopeless economy, and my agency's situation is compounded by our recent merger, which has led to "restructuring." So over the last two weeks, I've watched some of my favorite people-- many of whom have been here for many years-- get the proverbial ax. These include a single mom and a woman (and close friend) who was only two years away from retirement. I understand to a degree that costs must be cut, but I only wish the layoffs weren't so seemingly arbitrary. Seniority? Forget about it. New baby at home? Tough luck. It makes me both sad and angry. (And, naturally, paranoid myself, although my job *seems* safe-- for now.) As I talked to one of our art buyers, an incredibly intelligent, cool, and fun person (who just gave me a b-day card)I couldn't help thinking of a line from a movie (I know, I know, my movie fried brain). Her gorgeous face was stained with tears, and I heard Kurt Russell in Death Proof: "There is nothing so beautiful as a look of wounded pride on the face of an angel." But I didn't find it pleasant, although my colleague still was beautiful... I just felt depressed.

The Movement Must Go On

2009-02-24T14:05:00.000-08:00

It’s not every night that you get to see Wonder Woman, a Golden Girl, and Barbarella on the same stage—but then, Monday’s Defying Inequality benefit concert was no ordinary night. Next secured me a pair of press tickets to the event raising money for marriage equality organizations. The star-studded lineup included the radiant Lynda Carter, Rue McClanahan (who spoke of her own right to marry—and remarry!—as she pleased), and Jane Fonda. The latter announced that the creators of Wicked (the event was held at the show’s home, the Gershwin Theater) had jointly contributed an additional $250,000 to the cause. Though the show was overlong and had some slow bits (the men of The Little Mermaid massacring “Part of Your World” was a low point), it offered plenty of great entertainment. A sing-along by cast members from Sesame Street made us all feel like kids again, and we were also treated to memorable performances by Ugly Betty’s adorable Mark Indelicato, comedian Mike Birbiglia, and the dancers from The Color Purple doing an exuberant take on the “Single Ladies” choreography. (Having three sassy male dancers lead that performance underscored the evening’s theme: let us put a ring on it, already!) Cyndi Lauper, alas, did not sing, but the Sicilian spitfire delivered an impassioned if meandering speech. She also got some of the night’s biggest laughs when she referenced Harvey Fierstien’s letter to the President and accidentally said “Harvey Weinstein.” Oops! As the crowd guffawed, Cyndi exclaimed, “That was last night! Damnit!”
But beyond the show’s undeniable entertainment value, it was a powerful reminder that we are in the midst of a true social revolution. After seeing and reading about Harvey Milk and the beginnings of the gay movement, I wished I could have participated in those historic events; but last night it hit me that there is an important battle for equality raging right *now,* and every one of us can participate. Again and again performers last night emphasized that the fight for civil equality is one we can and will win. We need only to keep fighting. I’m reminded of young Cleve Jones (Emile Hirsch) in the movie Milk: “I don’t do losing.” We should all be so stubborn and tenacious.

Gossip Watch: Going Out with a Bang

2009-02-03T09:28:00.000-08:00

No more Gossip Girl for at least a month? Say it ain't so! Oh, well, at least this episode provided all sorts of shenanigans to (sort of) tide us over until GG returns from hiatus. The best part: they went to the Holiday House!!!! (Does little dance.) But before I get to that-- and before you ask, "What the hell is a Holiday House?"-- here's the plot. This episode was all about Blair and her vendetta against Miss Rachel Carr, the sweet lil teacher who didn't stand a chance when thrust into the shark-infested waters of Constance. In past episodes, Carr had ruffled Blair's feathers by giving her a dreaded B and potentially spoiling her straight-A streak for Yale. She'd also won the admiration of both Serena and Dan, with the latter probably more enamored with the teach then he'd like to admit. This hour kicks off with Blair "doing community service" for detention in Central Park (which of course means making poor Dorota do all the work), then demanding that her Mean Girls help her destroy Carr for the indignity. They're uninterested until the school announces a ban on cell phones, with Miss Carr leading the way. (Ruh-roh.) As the students suffer PDA withdrawal (I was reminded of Scully on The X Files: "Mulder, if you had to go an hour without your cell phone, you'd lapse into catatonic shock"), Blair gets Dorota to smuggle in cells for all the girls. (Patrick loved that her "disguise" still included her maid's head band.) She sets them to the task of digging up dirt on Carr, then stumbles across the perfect vicious rumor herself: Dan's close relationship with Rachel. Meanwhile, Chuck calls Nate and Vanessa out of their dull-as-dishwater relationship to help him look into what he thinks may've been "the greatest night of my life." He woke up hung over with memories of a masked ball and a night with a beautiful woman; an invitation he finds leads him to a swanky townhouse in midtown. The location used is the same tony interior featured in Sex and the City: The Movie, which also played host to a "Holiday House" showroom that both me and my friend (and fellow GG fan) Elon worked for last fall. It was a kick to see the distinctive and gorgeous space onscreen; one crucial moment was even set in "the Thanksgiving room," which was my favorite room in the house. Anyhoo, as for the actual *storyline*: Chuck finds a framed photo of the girl in question; he tracks down the house's owners and discovers that "Elle" is their nanny. She meets him at the house after hours, masked, with a ridiculously large candle in her hand, and thankfully Chuck makes a crack about this "Eyes Wide Shut mystery" so that we know they're not taking themselves too seriously. Elle mistakenly invited Chuck to the party using an old "client list" that included his dad-- holy Elliot Spitzer, Batman! But she emphasizes that the club is both extremely powerful and very dangerous; later the owners call Chuck to see if he's seen Elle, who's evidently disappeared. I'm not sure how I feel about this storyline: an evil gentleman's club sounds a little shark-jumpy, and didn't they already do a whole Skulls take-off last fall? I'm also confused as to what Vanessa has to do with anything; she receives an invite to the party and a mask, and shows it to Nate, though it's unclear if they're actually going to go or just stay in and have Bland Character Sex. ("Ooh, baby, you're so... underwritten!") Maybe if we're lucky this evil cult will do us all a favor and off Vanessa. Anyway, back to Blair vs. Carr. Blair's posting on Gossip Girl gets the whole school talking, but seemingly backfires when the headmistress expels Blair for spreading a dangerous lie. She manages to convince her Daddy Harold that the affair really happened, and he fights with the school board over the issue. (I love that the school board was made up of like, Rufus, Lily, Harold, and a couple random extras. Isn't Constance kind of a big school?) But Blair receives a secret weapon from Serena: a camera phone picture of Dan and Rachel hugging suggestively. (True, Rachel immediately pulls away and tells him it's a bad idea, but the fact that she's met with him at a restaurant after hours WHILE THERE'S A BIG ASS RUMOR GOING AROUND THAT THEY'RE SCHTUPPING demonstrates pretty poor judgement.) Blair instructs the headmistress to check her email-- conveniently wired to the projector-- and the provocative image shocks everyone. Favorite line of the night: Blair uses a fancy legal term, then quips, "I love Damages." But Papa Waldorf overhears her talking about how the whole thing started as a lie, and he's none too pleased. The next day he gives her a stern reprimand, and when she protests that "Yale was on the line," he responds, "I don't care what school you go to. I care about what kind of person you become." (Oh, Daddy. If you only *knew*...) He leaves with Handsome, the bulldog he gave Blair as a Yale present, adding to the sadness. Meanwhile, the scandal's taken a toll on perpetually star-crossed Serena and Dan, because, if I'm remembering this right, "there's always something." Or something. These guys always have the lamest excuses for breaking up. But maybe they should *stay* broken up this time. They've gotten kind of insipid. Besides, we all know Chuck and Blair are this show's true core couple. Serena's attempt at an apology to the fired Miss Carr is rebuffed; Dan, however, receives a warmer reception, as Rachel reminds him that she's not a teacher anymore. Cut to a montage of these two jail baiting lovebirds going at it to the strains of an incongruous rock song. "They're both poor. It's the music of the working class," my roommate Richard joked. Little do they know that the school is reconsidering its decision to fire Carr *at that very moment.* After all, Lily opines, there was no proof that Rachel engaged in indecent conduct with a student-- except for what's going down right now. But even more oblivious than Rachel and Dan is Serena, who's seen walking in the rain with quite possibly the world's largest umbrella leaving a message for Dan. She's sorry, and can they just forget the whole thing ever happened? Not likely! (Cue Ross Gellar: "We were on A BREAK!") Too bad we'll have to wait so long to find out what happens next. One final note: remember my rant about Blake Lively's freakish heigh? Yeah. Check the photo of her and Rachel above. Craaaazy.

My Cheesy Valentine

2009-01-30T09:57:00.000-08:00

A favorite word of my dad and I is “psychotronic,” a term that comes from Michael J. Weldon’s Psychotronic Encyclopedia of Film. Psychotronic, according to that bastion of scholarly integrity known as Wikipedia, means: “a genre made up of horror films, spaghetti westerns, low-budget independent features, exploitation films.” It’s all those rude and crude flicks that played in grindhouses or were discovered by thrill junkie viewers on video cassette (and now DVD). When I saw the trailer for My Bloody Valentine 3D I knew: this is psychotronic. Besides the fact that it’s *a 3D slasher film*, the trailer features the unforgettable tag line “Nothing says ‘date movie’… like a 3D ride to Hell!” So I was game for seeing it, knowing full well that it would be lame-brained and derivative—but hopefully fun. I wasn’t disappointed. My Bloody Valentine is a remake of an 80s slasher film (back when one was released virtually every week) that took its name from yet another holiday It’s hardly considered a classic, but given how many horror remakes (or “reimaginings,” as is now the term de jour), have been big hits lately, it was only a matter of time before this one got its own face lift. Indeed, the only reason it wasn’t released Valentine’s Day weekend is because Michael Bay’s Friday the 13th update comes out that week! The plot, what there is of one, centers on Harmony, “a small town slice of Norman Rockwell” (the screenwriter must’ve stayed up all night coming up with that one) still shaken by a series of brutal murders ten years earlier. See, Harmony’s a mining town, and one Valentine’s Day local Harry Warden, having been in a coma after surviving a deadly mine collapse years earlier (which he did only by slaughtering his fellow miners to preserve oxygen) reawakens. He wipes out the entire hospital staff, then heads back to the mine where a group of teens—including lovers Tom (Jensen Ackles) and Sarah (Jaime King)—are foolishly having a party. He murders most of them in mining gear, pick ax in hand, but Sarah escapes with some friends, while Tom comes within an inch of his life before Warden is shot down by the cops—or is he? A decade later, as we’re reminded on a near constant basis (“ten years ago” is uttered more in this movie than “Valentine’s Day” is), Tom returns to close down the mine left to him by his dead father, while also trying to reconnect with Sarah, now married to Axel (yes, Axel: it’s that kind of a movie). Axel is played, with “ten years later” mustache and hair reminiscent of Jake Gyllenhaal in the later scenes of Brokeback Mountain, by Dawson’s Creek alum Kerr Smith-- clearly not the winner of the post WB Network career sweepstackes. (Michelle Williams is an Oscar nominee. Smith is the irritating star of a 3D slasher remake. Even James Van Der Beek fared better than this.) He and Tom fight over Sarah with such an ardor that you start to wonder if something else is really going on here. (Sexual tension you could cut with a pick ax, perhaps?) Meanwhile, a killer in mining garb is at it again, but is it really Warden—or has someone else picked up his deadly mantle? The resolution came as a mild surprise, in a that-was-a-cheat kind of a way, but then I didn’t really come to this movie expecting startling originality. I wanted 3D blood and gore, and I got them often enough, along with bonuses like at-times howlingly awful dialogue and uniformly bad acting. Ackles’ tank top does more acting here than he does; ditto the rest of the cast, including John Carpenter vet Tom Atkins, who phones in his generic Grizzled Former Cop role like he’s signing DVDs at yet another convention (which I happen to know he does regularly). My favorite scenes were the opening hospital massacre, which is more gruesomely fun than anything that follows (loved the dripping hand hovering in the foreground), a wince-inducing spike-through-the-eye bit (we’re made to share the victim’s here-it-comes POV) and the horrible fate met by a cleaning lady in a dryer mysteriously large enough to house her entire body. (She’s Latina, and a midget also gets rammed into the ceiling, so clearly this movie is an Equal Opportunity Killer.) There’s also an inspired scene with a totally nude woman trying to fight off the killer, ensuring that the audience gets three-dimensional T&A to go with their stalk-‘n-slash. But by the time the 101 minute My Bloody Valentine 3D ends, it feels much too long; the admittedly well done “Real D Technology” has lost its novelty, and we’re reminded that when it comes to great horror, strong writing, direction, and acting are more powerful than a flying pick ax any day of the year.

So underrated

2009-01-15T15:21:00.001-08:00

“Underrated” might be one of my dad’s favorite movie terms. He loves plenty of classic films, like The Godfather or The Shining, but he has a soft spot in his heart for all manner of overlooked or forgotten gems. Here’s my rundown of some favorite underrated movies, including one that will forever be known in the Lockwood house as “the movie Mom made Dad walk out on.”
Halloween III: Season of the Witch (1982) This oddity from producers John Carpenter and Debra Hill had a lot working against it from the beginning, being a complete departure from the knife-wielding shenanigans of Halloweens I and II. Rather than bring back Michael Myers, who they’d attempted to kill off in II (he’d be resurrected six years later), the creators spun a whole new story in hopes of creating an annual anthology of Halloween related features. No dice: the movie met with lukewarm box office and scathing reviews, and was almost universally reviled by fans. I didn’t like it the first time I saw it, but on the recommendation of my friend Roman (this is actually his favorite of the series) I gave it another look and was pleasantly surprised by how dark, moody, and entertaining it is. Season of the Witch tells the tale of Dan Challis (Tom Atkins), who witnesses a patient’s bizarre death and tries to uncover the mystery behind it. With the deceased’s daughter Ellie at his side, Challis uncovers an unspeakable plot by the head of Silver Shamrock Novelties, a small-town toy company whose Halloween masks are almost as ubiquitous as their annoying commercials. (“Three more days till Halloween, Halloween, Halloween, three more days till Halloween, Silver Shamrock…”) Robots, gore, and a piece of Stone Henge (!) all come into play as our heroes race to save America’s children from a gruesome fate on All Hallow’s Eve. Because it’s written, filmed, and scored by the same team as the first two films, HIII actually feels a lot more like a Halloween movie than most of the subsequent sequels. It’s also intense and frightening, with a completely nihilistic ending that pays homage (like the rest of the movie) to Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Two decades later, director Tommy Lee Wallace has reason to feel good about his misunderstood creation: at last fall’s Halloween convention in Pasadena, I was one of many fans who told him how much we love the movie.
Nightbreed (1990) Clive Barker’s follow-up to his Hellraiser movies was this adaptation of his novella Cabal. Reportedly the studio’s misguided attempt to market it as a slasher flick (which it definitely isn’t) contributed to its box office failure, though it seems to have gained newfound appreciation in the years since. Although it’s dark and frightening, Nightbreed is more of a fantasy than a straight-up horror film, with a clever twist: the monsters are the heroes, and the humans “the bad guys.” When troubled Boone (Craig Sheffer) is framed for a series of murders actually perpetrated by his therapist Decker (David Cronenberg, better known as a director but absolutely frightening here), he flees to Midian, a mythical city he’s heard is a haven for misfits and monsters. His arrival is initially met with opposition, though; the vicious Peloquin takes a bite out of his chest! (It was at this point that my mother forced my father to leave, an indignity that he’s never let her live down.) Soon, though, the vividly imagined denizens of Midian accept Boone as their own, and he discovers some beastly powers, too. With the help of faithful girlfriend Lori—who seems to subscribe to the philosophy that it doesn’t matter if a man’s a monster, so long as he’s *your* monster—Boone fends off Decker and the police in their attempt to destroy this secret community. With its saga of authorities persecuting what they don’t understand, Nightbreed works as a queer allegory (Barker is himself gay), but however you read it, this is a compelling and highly stylized adventure with unique characters and a lot of heart.
Loser (2000) Any movie with a title like this is tempting fate, since it’s all too easy for critics to trash it with “witty” puns. It didn’t help that writer-director Amy Heckerling was coming off the universally adored Clueless, a movie so funny and of-the-moment that it spawned its own lexicon. (“As if!”) But while Loser isn’t the equal of that modern classic, it deserved better than the largely scathing reviews it received. Jason Biggs puts his lovable loser persona to great use as Paul, a naïve Midwesterner who comes to New York City for college and gets a hostile reception from virtually everyone he meets. His roommates are hard-partying douche bags, Professor Alcott (a perfectly smarmy Greg Kinnear) is a dick, and even his attempt to give old ladies subway seats are foiled by rude commuters! The sole saving grace is fellow student Dora (Mena Suvari), an artsy chick who’s unbelievably sweet and adorable, yet unaware that she deserves much better than the vain Alcott (with whom she’s having an affair). Of course, we know these two kids are going to end up together, but the fun part is watching their friendship and romance unfold. The appealing leads have great chemistry, and as Paul stands up to the machinations of the roomies and Alcott, we get the satisfaction of watching a likable underdog come out on top. Loser’s attempts to jumpstart its own lingo fell flat (though I still like “skoach”), but it’s a movie worth checking out.
Bully (2001) Director Larry Clark has gotten a lot of flack over the years for his relentlessly downbeat stories and borderline pervy fixation on scantily clad adolescents. Bully certainly fits both assertions, with an attractive cast of barely dressed teenagers caught up in a naïve murder scheme that quickly spirals out of control. (The movie was adapted from Jim Schutze’s gripping Bully: A True Story of High School Revenge.) But while Bully isn’t easy to watch, I’d argue that it’s a fascinating and important look at the dangerous obsessions that pervade youth culture. Nick Stahl and the late, great Brad Renfro star as Bobby and Marty, two life-long “best friends” living in small town Florida. When Marty starts going out with shy, insecure Lisa (Rachel Miner), his new girlfriend soon realizes how physically and emotionally abusive the relationship is, with Bobby dominating and controlling his supposed pal. (He even whores his friend out to older gay men for phone sex and stripping, a subplot inspired by the pair’s real-life exploitation of gays.) After Bobby rapes Lisa’s best friend, she suggests that they kill him, and they enlist an ever-growing number of friends for this hopeless and deadly plot. As the teens joke and laugh about killing Bobby, we’re reminded that they’re just kids—and all too unaware of the very real consequences their actions will have. After Bobby is killed, the group begins to unravel and the weight of their guilt pushes them all towards exposure and persecution. Clark directs this dark drama with a savvy understanding of what drives his over-sexed, underworked protagonists. At one point one of their mothers lambasts them all for their aimless existence, little realizing just how far their “idle pursuits” will go. Great, naturalistic acting from the young cast makes Bully a devastating and affecting cautionary tale for parents and teens alike.
Vanilla Sky (2001) These days, perhaps no other actor is as misunderstood (and underestimated) as Tom Cruise, whose bizarre personal life has overshadowed his once titanic career. The downward slide may’ve begun with this much-maligned Cameron Crowe drama; some viewers were so incensed that theaters offered refunds! I’ll never really understand why so many people trashed or passed over the film; in any case, its melancholy tale of lost love and shattered dreams appealed to my emotional state when it was released (I’d fallen hopelessly for a friend who never reciprocated my feelings). Adapted from the Spanish film Abre Los Ojos, Vanilla Sky tells the story of David Aames, a wealthy playboy whose hedonistic existence is interrupted by the arrival of Sofia (Penelope Cruz, reprising her role from the original film), a beguiling woman for whom he falls in love almost immediately. This doesn’t sit well with Julie (Cameron Diaz), David’s “friend with benefits” who is not-so-secretly in love with him. The day after his magical evening with Sofia, David makes the mistake of accepting a ride from Julie, who drives them both off of a bridge. She dies; his face is horribly mangled. Despite this, David is able to make his relationship with Sofia work; but bizarre and surreal events soon threaten his happiness, forcing him to question the very nature of reality. It’s this trippy aspect that confused and frustrated so many, although to me it was explained sufficiently by the ending (which I won’t reveal here). Then again, I enjoy even the mind-bendingly bizarre works of David Lynch, so I suppose my tolerance for inscrutable weirdness is higher than most. In any case, Vanilla Sky is a fascinating romantic mystery with nuanced performances and a killer soundtrack. It’s also one of my friend Josh’s very favorite films, so I’m not the only one who feels it’s unfairly denigrated.
The Rules of Attraction (2002) The works of Brett Easton Ellis have always been polarizing, inspiring admiration in some and seething protests from others. The gruesome satire American Psycho became a lightning rod for feminists, who felt it’s scenes of rape, torture, and murder celebrated violence against women. In 2000, Mary Harron pulled off the seemingly impossible task of adapting that book to the screen, to widespread acclaim; the time was ripe for another Ellis film, and Roger Avary’s spirited take on The Rules of Attraction was it. But if Psycho’s mix of social parody and bloody murder was off-putting to some, Attraction was even more bedeviling. The film starts with Lauren (Shannyn Sossamyn) getting raped, then goes backward to reveal how she, gay Paul (Ian Somerhalder) and drug-dealing Sean (James Van Der Beek) came together and eventually fell apart. Though the movie is chock full of sex and drugs, the story’s cynical tone negates any potential glamour, and the heart-breaking suicide scene and homoerotic content were sure to repel more mainstream viewers. But for those willing to endure its excesses, Rules is an endlessly engaging, detailed study of aimless youth and its consequences. The talented cast performs with humor and gusto, and Avary has lots of fun with filmmaking techniques, from a tour de force split-screen sequence leading up to Lauren and Sean’s first meeting to a dynamic European vacation montage compiling hundreds of hours of footage into three minutes. For all its darkness, this blackly comic film also includes one moment of pure joy: an inspired bedroom dance between Paul and old lover Richard (Russell Sams) set to George Michael’s “Faith.” That scene alone makes The Rules of Attraction worth checking out.

Twi-Hard With a Vengeance

2009-01-15T09:05:00.000-08:00

What follows is an excerpt from Misty Evening, the worldwide bestseller about vampires, and undying love, and shit.

CHAPTER NINE: HOT, HOT COCOA

It was dawn, and Belle awoke to the sound of gentle rain tapping at her window. It was always raining in Spoons, the small town where she lived, but she didn’t mind it so much now that she had him. For a moment she thought, again, that she had simply imagined it, that her wondrous time with Edmund had been nothing more than a pleasant and exciting dream. But then she saw him standing there, gazing upon her with his big, expressive eyes, the retinas colored mauve (which she now knew indicated that he was happy, or was it constipated? She couldn’t quite recall) and she knew that it had all been as real as anything. Belle shuddered pleasurably.
“Oh, Edmund,” she sighed. “You didn’t leave me.”
“Of course not,” he replied with a dry chuckle. “Silly girl.”
“So, so silly,” Belle agreed. She frowned. “What are you doing with a silly girl like me, anyway?”
“I already told you,” Edmund said, crouching down beside her bed and stroking her shoulder with his cold, clammy hands (which still managed to make Belle feel warm as fire). “I adore you. You are everything to me, the sun, the moon, and the stars.”
“I know,” Belle said. “I know that you’ve said that before, and that you’ve followed me everywhere for the past eight months and watched me when I didn’t know you were watching—which could be seen as stalker-ish but with you I just think it’s romantic—and that you wrote me that poem, and painted me that mural, and gave me that mix CD…”
“Four mix CDs,” Edmund corrected. “And don’t forget the sonnet I wrote you.”
“Oh, right,” Belle amended. “But still, I just can’t believe that you, who are so gorgeous and magnificent, so strong and alluring, would fall in love with someone as painfully ordinary as me.”
“Shh,” Edmund said. “I want to just smell you for a moment.” He began to inhale deeply as he hovered over Belle’s face, moving down the length of her body gradually and closing his eyes as if to better lose himself in her scent.
“Again, that could be creepy but with you it’s… um, not,” Belle said.
“Shh,” Edmund repeated. “You smell like lilacs. You smell of freshly fallen rain and of… calf brains.”
“What?” Bella asked, looking down.
“It’s a compliment,” Edmund said. “I enjoy slaughtering cows and devouring them alive, remember?”
“Oh, right,” Bella answered. “Of course.” There were times when she forgot that Edmund was more than just a man—albeit a very beautiful and intelligent one with great taste in clothes and a mean two step. He was also an immortal vampire. Who drank blood and stuff.
“Thank you,” Edmund said, evidently done inhaling her aroma. “That was quite wonderful for me. Was it good for you?”
“It was,” Belle answered. “Do you know what I think would be even better?”
Edmund looked at her expectantly, turning his head to the side and letting his luscious brown locks fall across his creamy white forehead. It took everything she had to breathe normally and continue with her train of thought. God, he was a hottie.
“If you and I were to share a hot, steamy…” Belle began.
“Belle,” Edmund interrupted. “We made a pledge, remember? At school. No copulation until after marriage or, failing that, death. Though in my case it’s too late for that…”
“Oh!” Belle exclaimed. “I didn’t mean to suggest that. I meant a hot steamy cup of cocoa.”
“Of course,” Edmund said. “I should never have thought you’d be proposing otherwise. Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Belle said.
“You wouldn’t ever propose that—would you?” Edmund asked.
“Oh no,” Belle replied. “No way. No way, Jose. You wouldn’t ever propose that… right?”
“Me?” Edmund asked. “Goodness no. Not at all. Nope. I’d never propose anything of the sort. Crazy talk.”
“Right, crazy talk,” Belle said. They both giggled nervously. Of course, Edmund’s giggle was far more rapturous and refined to Bella’s ears. And the way he threw his head back, and thumped his smooth, gentle hand across his tight, muscled chest… It was so utterly exquisite. Bella tried not to dwell on it so as not to faint again. She’d already had seven fainting spells the previous day alone, just from him rubbing her back in a circular motion and helping her take off her snow boots.
“Well,” Belle said finally, breaking the silence. “I should take a shower before I go downstairs.”
“Right, of course,” Edmund answered.
They stared at each other for a moment.
“Um, so I’ll need to… um… yeah.”
“Un… dress?” Edmund asked.
“Uh, yeah, that,” Belle agreed.
“Right,” Edmund said. “So I’ll just be right outside, um, waiting.”
“Okay,” Belle said. “Yes, yes, you do that while I… uh… remove my—you know. And stuff.”
“Okay, yeah,” Edmund said. In an instant he was out of the room. Belle undressed and slipped into her powder blue bathrobe, then walked into the hall to find Edmund waiting.
“Well, I’ll just be going into the shower now.”
“Right, yes,” Edmund stammered. “You go take your shower, um, with the nakedness and the hot, hot water, and I’ll just be right here, waiting.”
“Okay,” Belle said. After a moment she turned and walked into the bathroom. She slammed the door shut with unusual force.
“You okay?” Edmund called.
“What? Oh, I’m fine,” Belle answered. “Sorry I just—closed it a little too hard, I guess.” Belle fidgeted with the knob, pressing the lock in. But it just popped out again. She cursed under her breath, then made a mental note to add a quarter to her swear jar later.
“Everything alright?” Edmund asked from the other side.
“Yes, yes,” Belle said. “I’m just having trouble, um… locking the door.”
“Oh.”
“But it’s fine, because it’s just you and me here, and you’re not going to come in, obviously.”
“Obviously.”
A beat.
“Unless you… want me to?”
“What?”
“What?”
“What?”
They both stood frozen.
“Okay, well, you enjoy your shower!” Edmund called, and then ran down the stairs.
“You okay?” Belle called.
“Yes!” he replied, now sounding much farther away. “I’m just going to take out your trash for you and then maybe get the cocoa started!”
“Oh-okay,” Belle answered. “Thanks!”
“Don’t mention it!”

When Belle came downstairs later, Edmund was nowhere to be found. She called his name but heard no answer; then she noticed with a start that two steaming cups of cocoa were set on the table. Neither one seemed to have been touched.
Belle didn’t have much time to think about this, however—the phone rang an instant later.
“Oh, hi, Jen,” Belle said, yawning loudly.
“It’s Jan,” Jan answered, irritated.
“Whatever,” Belle replied. “You’re not a vampire.”
“Huh?”
“Uh, nothing,” Belle said quickly. “What’s up?”
“Omigod Omigod Omigod,” Jan said. “You will not believe who asked me to the semi-formal.”
“Who?” Belle said, twirling her hair and wondering where Edmund was.
“Matt.”
Belle didn’t answer. She glanced at the mirror in the hall. Should she get highlights?
“Isn’t that amazing?” Jan asked.
“Who’s Matt again?”
“Um, like, one of your best friends and the guy I’ve been crushing on for a year.”
“Oh, right,” Belle said, with no trace of enthusiasm. “The one who was into me but then I sent him your way because I only like dead guys.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Hey Jan, really sorry but I gotta go. I don’t know where my boyfriend is and he and his vampire family are way more interesting than any of you boring ‘normal’ kids.”
Jan was still talking when Belle hang up. Now, where could Edmund be? Belle wondered. A moment later the door flew open.
“Belle!” Edmund exclaimed. “Thank God you’re safe!” He embraced her tightly and covered her with kisses. Cold, sexy, undead kisses. Mmmm.
“Of course I am,” Belle stammered, trying not to faint from the sheer excitement of Edmund’s lips on her face.
“Oh, Belle,” Edmund sighed. “I was so afraid one of the others had gotten to you.”
“The others?” Belle asked.
“Yes, the bad vampires,” Edmund said. “The ones that actually kill people and whatnot. I just had a spectacular battle with their leader, Jamie.”
“Oh no!” Belle cried. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” Edmund said. “But barely. That fight took every ounce of my strength. It was really quite spectacular.”
“Was it?” Belle asked.
“Oh yes,” Edmund said. “There were exploding cars and breaking glass. A lot of blood, too. When his head came off, it was just like a fountain—but anyway, none of that matters now. You’re safe.”
“Still, I’m kinda bummed I missed it,” Bella said. “It sounds really exciting, especially after spending the last few months not doing much of anything besides thinking about you and frying fish for my dad.”
“Nonsense,” Edmund said. “You wouldn’t want to see any of that extreme fighting or fiery destruction. All you need to worry about is being right here with me, drinking cocoa. A woman’s place is at home, with her vampire by her side.”
“Mmm,” Belle murmured as Edmund started kissing her again. “I love the patriarchy.” That night they had a very passionate evening of Scrabble and lukewarm cocoa. It was like a dream. A sexy, teenage wish-fulfillment dream. With vampires.

Twi-Harder

2009-01-13T10:28:00.001-08:00

A brilliant fusion of horror fantasy and teen angst. A depiction of star crossed romance embodied by a vampire and a human girl. An imaginative series that’s captured the imaginations of millions of fans the world over. I’m talking, of course, about Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Joss Whedon’s cult classic television show about an ordinary 16-year-old girl entrusted with an extraordinary mission. The show was by turns scary, funny, and moving, and imagined the strained experience of high school as a kind of literal hell. As for that other recent vampire phenomenon, Twilight—the book series and hit movie that have inspired a legion of “Twi-hards”? After reading the original book, I’d have to say that it has (if you’ll pardon the pun) considerably less bite.
Written by Mormon author Stephanie Meyer, these best-selling young adult novels are the kind of out-of-nowhere phenomenon the media just loves to celebrate (especially with J.K. Rowling’s vastly superior Harry Potter books now only a memory). From reviews of the movie, I knew that Twilight was less about bloody carnage and more about wistful gazes, with young Bella’s romance with “good” vampire Edward taking center stage. But as I read the novel, I was surprised by just how much of it was given over to hokey romance novel prose, and by how glacially paced it turned out to be.
Twilight is told from the perspective of Bella Swan, your average insecure teen girl, who’s just made the unhappy transition from life with her mom in Phoenix to life with her father, Charlie, in perpetually overcast Forks, WA. (Why she forced herself to do this is never made explicitly clear, especially since she seems so miserable about it.) Her thoughts as she enters her new school are much like any teen’s: all she wants to do is fit in, have friends, and not stand out. Anyone can relate to these feelings, so I started to understand why teen girls became enamored with the story. Of course, everyone loves a bad boy, too, and that’s exactly what Bella finds in the form of Edward Cullen, a pale, impossibly beautiful young man whose family is met with confusion and awe by the town. (All of them are described as runway model gorgeous, including their adopted father Dr. Cullen.) After initially thinking he despises her (he casts her death stares the first day in class), she soon learns that he’s both incredibly enamored with her and hiding a big secret: he’s an immortal vampire, and though he’s sworn himself to a life of non-violence against humans (feeding only on animals) his affection for her is tempered with bloodlust.
The slow pacing is meant to develop a rich romance between the two, but the characterization Meyer should be giving us is oddly stilted. Bella is relatively well developed, but she’s maddeningly insecure and neurotic; no matter how many times Edward tells her she’s desirable she refuses to accept it. Edward is compelling, yes, but in some ways he’s a one-dimensional and smug figure: he’s said to smirk so often and to treat Bella in such a borderline-condescending manner that I started to think he was kind of a prick. The entire book is sorely lacking in fully realized characters. Bella’s normal “friends” at high school are so bland it’s hard to believe she cares about them at all. The only truly likable character is Jacob Black, a Native American boy who reveals that his tribe has forbidden the Cullens to set foot on their reservation because of their supposed vampirism. (He doesn’t believe it, but Bella does.) He’s sweet, friendly, and exactly the kind of teen boy Bella probably should be involved with. (In later books they apparently develop a romance—never mind that he turns out to be a werewolf.) Bella’s fascination with Edward, meanwhile, is ludicrously over-the-top; though I like a hot vampire as much as the next guy, I doubt I’d ever lavish such soppy, relentlessly effusive sentiments on one. Bella is so thoroughly infatuated with Edward that the relationship begins to feel distinctly unhealthy. It’s clear that Bella has yet to develop a fully realized sense of self; by subsuming herself so completely in Edward, she loses all sense of her own identity. The other odd thing about Meyer’s depiction of the lovers is how “chaste” and yet relentlessly sexual it is. Sex is never explicitly discussed in the book (though I hear that later installments deal with it more directly) but it’s all over the descriptions of Edward and his interactions with Bella. Bella goes on and on about his beautiful face and gorgeous muscular chest; she denies that he elicits any fear from her but admits that he stirs up “other feelings.” The closest we come to talk of sex is what’s unsaid. When Edward spends the night with Bella, she tells him she won’t be able to sleep with him around and he asks “what else” they should do. She of course suggests another round of questions. Never mind what I would suggest if there was an undead Adonis in my bedroom. Given Meyer’s Mormon background, and staunch refusal to give her characters a sex life despite pressure from the publisher, some have suggested that the books are veiled abstinence propaganda. I don’t know that I’d go that far, but given all of the heavy breathing and nuzzling and caressing that transpires between these two, it’s hard to see why they never succumb to their baser urges. (Did Meyer leave out the part about the Forks High School Celibacy Club?)
About three quarters of the way into the book, we finally get some real conflict. A trio of vampire outsiders comes into town, and one of them, James, immediately sets his sights on Bella. Edward’s obvious urge to protect her provides the perfect challenge for this “tracker,” and he’ll stop at nothing to attack her. A chase ensues, with Edward’s siblings Alice and Jasper spiriting Bella away to Phoenix while Edward and his brother Emmet try to head off James. Action is minimal, though, and none of the supporting cast is ever really fleshed out, including our villain, who’s menacing enough but amounts to little more than a stock figure. Bella’s meant-to-be-heartbreaking bluffing of her dad (she tells him she hates life in Forks and is leaving, so that he won’t come after her) would be more resonant if their relationship had been better established; all we really know is that they like each other, she cooks for him, and he’s still in love with her mom. At the climax (which comes with an admittedly clever ruse courtesy of James), Bella is rendered barely conscious, and since we’re limited to her point of view, we get scarcely any details about the vampires’ battle. I suppose it’s not giving away much that Bella survives (after all, this book has three sequels), waking up days later. Edward tells her that Alive and Emmett had to kill James, which we know from his explanation earlier means tearing the vampire apart completely. But guess what? Bella slept through all that. Thanks for the letdown, Meyer. The book closes with an epilogue at the prom, which Edward has “tricked” Bella into going to. (Because she’s such a klutz, she never goes to dances; somehow, Alice’s doing her hair and makeup and putting her in a lavish dress, with Edward showing up in a tux, didn’t tip her off to where they were going. You’re not too quick Bella, are you?) After a brief interlude with Jacob, who’s come to warn Bella about Edward and his family on behalf of his dad (and who clearly carries a torch for her), the couple pledges their undying love for each other and yada yada yada. It’s all-too-obviously setting up another book, and as such feels distinctly unsatisfying and un-final. However, after slogging through this mess of flowery prose, repressive sexuality, and cardboard characterization, I think I’ll pass on the rest of this “saga.” When it comes to angsty vampire tales, I’ll take Buffy Summers over Bella Swan any day.

Kiss My Bass

2009-01-08T14:37:00.000-08:00

This week could have been a real downer, marking the end of the holidays and the beginning of the great gray beast known as January. But luckily TV was there to cushion the blow: Gossip Girl and Nip/Tuck both returned! (Gossip Girl’s only been off the air since just before Christmas, but Nip/Tuck was MIA for nearly a year! Stupid writer’s strike.) Neither debut was particularly exciting, but it’s good to see both series back on the air. After all the drama of the last GG, it was perhaps inevitable that this one would feel anticlimactic. Dan and Serena *finally* got back together, but more importantly—Rat Boy is gone! Greasy grimey Aaron will never be seen again. (Huge sigh of relief.) Apparently the producers didn’t like the character any more than we did, so they decided to ax him after the last ep. Of course, we all knew Serena was ready to ditch him for Dan anyway, and it’s nice that they just embraced and resumed their coupling rather than put us through any more will-they-or-won’t-they bullshit. Not that the obstacles are over for the twosome: Rufus scolds Dan for being alone in the apartment with Serena (?!) and Dan suspects his ire at Lily is at the heart of it. The two snoop around seeking answers, only to uncover a map of Boston and a 617 number (yeah 617—represent!). Turns out Rufus hasn’t been looking for “an artist”—he’s been calling adoption agencies. Of course we all know why, but Rufus is forced to tell Dan the truth—that he has a half brother he’s never known. (And yes, we now know that it’s a boy after Lily let the pronoun slip.) Which means: More Ickiness For Them. They share a half sibling! It’s bad enough that their parents are locked in a deathless star crossed romance, but this one could be a real buzz killer. Dan nearly tells Serena, but Rufus calls him last minute and asks him not to, declaring, “It’s not your secret to tell.” Still, Serena’s not likely to stay in the dark for long, not in this gossipy crowd, anyway.
Speaking of Serena, why do I get the feeling that everyone around her is secretly standing on milk crates so that she won’t look so freakishly tall? Watch carefully and you’ll note that while Blake Lively is often seen walking away or towards other characters, they’re never seen full length beside her. Guess the producers don’t want the cast looking like Cousin Itt next to Lurch. (Not to compare Lively’s looks to Lurch’s—the girl’s a regulation hottie.)
Meanwhile, Little J was saddled with a pretty lame B plot—a vain attempt to save dorky Nelly from the hands of her heartless Mean Girl “friends,” particularly Queen B Penelope. (Side note: this show really needs to diversify. The only two characters of color are Asian doormat Nelly and black—and usually silent—bitch Isabel. Two of the biggest Gossip Girl fans I know are black women—so get a clue, Josh Schwartz and co.!) After witnessing Nelly being forced to wipe yogurt off of Penelope’s shoe at Pinkberry (and don’t even get my roommate Patrick started on the inclusion of Pinkberry), Jenny intervenes, using Nelly’s Gretchen Weiner-like knowledge of the clique to win her better treatment. After threatening to text Gossip Girl sordid deets (i.e. Penelope’s affair with one of her daddy’s colleagues), Jenny is offered the chance to lead the group—but flatly turns it down. Her efforts are lost on Nelly, though—the little wuss still wants to be one of the club! She rushes off to be Penelope’s slave again, while Eric congratulates Jenny on her newfound strength and integrity. The best parts of this mostly forgettable arc: Blair dismissing the girls’ high school squabbles as beneath her and Jenny’s transformation out of those horrid bangs and raccoon eyes. She’s also re-enrolled at school, which means her wayward rebellion phase has officially passed.
In Chuck and Blair Land, we first see Chuck in—an opium den! Patrick wondered if opium dens even exist anymore, but I can’t think of a more appropriate place for him to be. (Complete with geishas, of course.) He’s been AWOL since leaving Blair that note last episode, but his uncle, Jack Bass, finds and brings him back to Manhattan. The actor playing Jack—sexy in that older man way—looked so much like Bart that I thought the two actors must be related, but apparently the resemblance is just casting serendipity. He seems like a charming, fun character—like Chuck without the standoffish vibe. Good thing he’s around, because he and Blair add backup when Chuck’s dragged before the dean for smoking pot (!). Of course, Chuck calmly torpedoes their efforts to save him with his all-too-glib attitude, though he does score a lot of sympathy for the whole mourning thing. Meanwhile, Blair's all concerned about being admitted to a ritzy women's org (ergo her lack of concern over the Mean Girls' kerfuffle) but realizes almost as soon as we are that they're unforgivably lame biotches. For one thing, these middle-aged chicks are all wearing ARGYLE! Every single one of them! The only one who can get away with that kind of wardrobe is Chuck. For another, it's not long before they're trading pithy bon mots about Serena and especially Chuck. Blair finally stands up and tells them all that her friends are great people and that she loves Chuck-- then races off to his side! Go Blair. Whatever you can say about her, the girl's got integrity these days. Near episode’s end, though, Blair makes a doozy of a revelation, asking Jack not to tell Chuck anything about “what happened between us.” Say what? In the latest incident of Gossip Girl incest, she and Chuck’s uncle hooked up! Which makes sense, in a weird way: Chuck wasn’t available, Jack was, and the whole thing has that quasi-comforting Next Best Thing vibe. Of course, Chuck—who nearly falls off a roof before being coaxed down by Blair’s tearful declaration of love for him—probably won’t take too well to all of this. “I’m Chuck Bass!” he shouts on the roof, before adding, “Nobody cares.” (Honestly, the line didn’t really work for me. It seems like they only did it because it would look good in promos.)
At episode’s end, Rufus has finally convinced Lily to join him in a search for their long lost son; Lily had explained earlier that the adoption was closed, so they’ve got an uphill battle finding the kid. Lily joins him in a car with only one suitcase, as compared to the eight or so she brought for their ill-fated weekend getaway; “That was a fun trip,” Richard explained. “This is business.” Still, Lily wore heels; have fun clomping around Beacon Hill’s cobblestone streets in those, Van Der Woodsen! Next week’s installment looks promising, with plenty of drama involving Blair’s dalliance with Uncle Jack.

The Films of 2008: My Favorites

2009-01-06T11:59:00.000-08:00

Sorry this list is a little late, but New Year’s week was a bit hectic for me. (Jacob came into town; much merriment—and a touch of drama—ensued.)
Cloverfield—The first film I saw last year is still my favorite. Yes, it’s high concept, but more importantly it’s ferociously entertaining, using special effects sparingly and generating gargantuan amounts of suspense and terror. By depicting a monster movie scenario via shaky camera work and naturalistic performances, Cloverfield accomplishes the difficult feat of making its Godzilla-esque premise believable. Some criticized producer J.J. Abrams and co. for exploiting 9/11 imagery to unnerve their audience, but the best horror filmmakers have always used real fears to underlie fanciful stories.
Forgetting Sarah Marshall—Hands down, my favorite comedy of the year. Writer director Jason Segel established himself as a rising talent to watch with this hilarious and relatable film. All the pain of breakups is made as real as it is hysterical, as hapless Peter (Segel) tries to escape to Hawaii, only to run into ex Sarah (Kristen Bell, always perfection) and her vain new rock star beau (Russell Brand). Luckily, adorable and caring hotel clerk Rachel (Mila Kunis) is there for support—and maybe more. By now, we all know the raunchy/sweet, improvisational MO of the Judd Apatow gang movies (he produced this), but Forgetting Sarah Marshall distinguishes itself with strong storytelling and vivid characterizations that go just far enough to amuse without devolving into Cartoon Land.
Iron Man—If not for a Certain Acclaimed Blockbuster, this would easily be 2008’s best superhero film. As is, it’s a fantastic film that delivers the action goods without sacrificing story or character. Robert Downey, Jr. brought his career roaring to new heights as the funny, evolving Tony Stark, who has a traumatic experience in Afghanistan and decides to change from weapons magnate to advocate for peace. The scenes with Stark developing his super suit have the same sense of wonder and discovery that made Spider-man such a delight. Meanwhile, Gwyneth Paltrow imbues Stark’s long-suffering (and smitten) assistant Pepper Potts with enough depth and likability to remind us why she became a movie star in the first place.
Sex and the City—No, I’m not one of those gays who gathered around the television for each week’s installment of the HBO megahit. But I was game to see the big screen version with my friend Elon (a devoted fan) and was pleasantly surprised by just how good this movie is. Yes, it’s an entertaining and often witty romp filled with glitzy fashions. (This has to be the biggest ode to conspicuous consumption since The Devil Wears Prada pretended to condemn materialism while celebrating it in every frame.) But it’s also a surprisingly dark and affecting look at broken hearts and the enduring power of love and forgiveness. Besides, the cast’s lived-in chemistry with each other is an alluring entertainment in its own right.
The Strangers—The horror genre is in a weird place right now. We’ve got torture porn, a trend that mercifully seems to be on its way out (though I anticipate annual Saw sequels through 2015). We’ve got a seemingly endless stream of remakes, most of which are as bland as they are unnecessary. But here’s a movie that’s simple, stark, and incredibly effective. The best elements of Halloween—from the shadowy camerawork to the masked killers and spooky sound design—combine into a power house scare show that knocked this horror junkie off his feet. Liv Tyler’s vividly emotional performance as the victimized Kristen helps sell the harrowing this-could-happen-to-you-scenario. Why’d the killers pick them? “Because you were home.” That lack of rhyme or reason may be The Strangers’ biggest scare of all.
The Dark Knight—What can I say about this massively popular, tremendously lauded film that hasn’t already been said? That it’s deftly plotted? Politically relevant? Fabulously acted—especially by Heath Ledger as an indelibly vivid Joker? Said, said, and said. Aaron Eckhart probably hasn’t received enough attention for his complex and sympathetic portrayal of Harvey/Two Face, though, and I will say that the action sequences are killer—just because a movie is deep and dark doesn’t mean it can’t have bad-ass set pieces.
The Pineapple Express—Compared to the humanistic Forgetting Sarah Marshall, The Pineapple Express is business as usual for Judd Apatow: broad characters, wackiness, and a secondary plot. It’s a 21st century stoner movie with an action template: Dale (Seth Rogen) and his dealer Saul (James Franco), two sorta-buddies, are forced to go on the run after Dale inadvertently witnesses a murder. What elevates this farce beyond being merely entertaining is Franco’s outstanding performance (he inhabits this lovable flake in the deepest way possible) and that trademark dash of sweetness that balances out all the drug and sex jokes. By the end, Dale’s come to see Saul as more than the “loser” who supplies him his weed—he respects and cares for him as a friend. Altogether now: awww.
Milk—It took years of development and half a dozen false starts, but the wait was worth it for this biopic of legendary gay activist Harvey Milk. Sean Penn gives a bravura performance as the charismatic Milk, who overcame the odds to become America’s first openly gay man in office; the film tells the story of his years in San Francisco, where he became “the Mayor of Castro Street” and helped mobilize an entire generation to fight for gay rights before his tragic assassination by a disgruntled colleague. None of the criticisms that have been lodged at this film—that it’s built on biopic clichés and is occasionally preachy (both of which are more or less true)—have diminished my tremendous affection and respect for it. It’s a hopeful and inspiring tale, full of detail and brilliant acting—standouts in the latter category include Emile Hirsch as queer spitfire (and future AIDS Quilt creator) Cleve Jones and Josh Brolin as the conflicted and murderous Dan White. As Milk says in the movie, “You gotta give ‘em hope”—and that’s exactly what this beautifully rendered film does, at a time when the gay community (youth especially) needs it more than ever.

Making Spirits Bright

2008-12-19T07:04:00.001-08:00

In the spirit of the season, I thought I’d tally my favorite Christmas movies and television of all time. For me, specials are an integral part of the holidays, particularly Halloween and Christmas. (Though I’m grooving on A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving more and more these days.) Memories of watching these in years past make me feel like a kid again, and help recapture the magic that’s so easily lost in adult life. (Trust me, after the week I’ve had, I know what I’m talking about!) Here, then, are my most indispensable Christmas treasures…
A Charlie Brown Christmas: Once someone made the mistake of disparaging this special in my presence. I immediately counted off all the reasons that it rocks: it uses real children’s voices; it has a classy jazz score; and it dares to talk about the *religious* aspects of the season. I could also add that it’s unbelievably funny (Snoopy’s animal impressions kill me every time) and heart-warmingly sweet. “It’s not such a bad little tree. All it needs is a little love.” Thanks, Linus.
How the Grinch Stole Christmas: For a beloved children’s book author, Dr. Seuss sure has been crapped on a lot. Don’t even get me started on the garish, irritating big screen version of this story (not to mention the Mike Myers desecration of The Cat & the Hat). But this half hour animated special is pure perfection. Chuck Jones’ legendary visuals and Boris Karloff’s signature voice combine to create an indelible character who’s as believably nasty (“the noise, noise, noise!”) as he is affecting once he makes the decision to save Christmas rather than massacre it. Like Charlie Brown, Grinch is bold enough to attack the rampant consumerism that turns Christmas into little more than a greed fest. Plus, “You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch” is one of the best (unconventional) Christmas songs ever written.
Rudolph, the Red Nosed Reindeer: Call this special corny if you will (and you’re pretty much right), but it still works on many levels. The crude but delightful stop motion animation, inspired songs, and vivid characters add up to a classic of children’s entertainment. Rudolph is an endearingly dorky hero, a “Misfit” who finds a way to put his would-be handicap (i.e. the glowing schnoz) to good use. Really, everything that’s bizarre, cheesy, or flawed about this special is part of what makes it so memorable. For example: what the heck is wrong with the doll on the Island of Misfit Toys? (Nothing as far as I can tell.) How gay is Hermie the elf? (Gotta love the swoop of blond hair.) And, for lack of a better word, why does Santa act like such a… dick in the beginning? Besides being riotously entertaining, Rudolph also boasts as many if not more quotable lines than A Charlie Brown Christmas. “She thinks I’m cuuuuute!” “Herbie doesn’t like to make toys!” And perhaps the most poignant line in the history of anything ever made: “I haven’t any dreams left to dream!” But don’t worry, Dolly: as Clarice the cute doe says, there’s always tomorrow for dreams to come true.
Mickey’s Christmas Carol: I can still remember the first time I saw this. I was at daycare, and I dug it so much that as soon as my dad picked me up, I asked if we could go to the video store so I could rent it and see it again! I’ve never been a big fan of Mickey and the gang per se, but they’re all put to good use here, with a story that works as both kids’ entertainment and a surprisingly thoughtful rendering of the novel. Plus, Goofy as the ghost of Marley is pretty flippin’ funny.
The OC: Josh Schwartz’s much loved soap contributed to the cultural zeitgeist when it popularized Chrismukkah, the interfaith celebration Seth Cohen (Adam Brody) used to bridge his parents’ backgrounds. (It’s the reason this Jewish Christian has held a Chrismukkah party for the past six years.) One of the best annual episodes is “The Chrismukkah That Almost Wasn’t,” which uses the celebration as a backdrop for some earth-shattering Cohen family revelations… but more importantly introduces the “yarmalclaus.” (How much do I love this Santa cap/yarmalca hybrid? I bought one online.) But my all time favorite Chrismukkah episode is the last season’s “The Chrismukk-huh?,” which takes its cue from It’s a Wonderful Life. Ryan (Ben McKenzie) and girlfriend Taylor (Autumn Reeser) fall off a ladder and get knocked out… then imagine themselves in a Ryan-less Orange County. (Unsurprisingly, everything’s different… and bad.) Ryan not only learns how much better he’s made everyone’s lives, but not to blame himself for Marissa’s death and move on—while also reaffirming his newfound affection for Taylor. It’s as fun and fanciful as it is heartwarming.
The Muppet Christmas Carol: Though I enjoy watching all of the entries on this list year after year, there are two I can’t let a Christmas pass without: this 1993 movie and the next film. I’ve always loved the story of A Christmas Carol (naturally—a spooky kid like me prefers *ghosts* in his Christmas fare), and for my money, this is the best and most sumptuous adaptation ever made. Michael Caine makes a terrific Scrooge, with a performance that is fully realized and adult—never mind that his costars happen to be puppets. The songs, by Paul Williams, are nothing short of exceptional (I spent considerable time and effort tracking down the soundtrack last Christmas). The production design and costumes bring Charles Dickens’ world to incredible life. (the Ghost of Christmas Future? Genuinely scary.) And of course the Muppets themselves bring their signature blend of wit and warmth to the proceedings; Gonzo as “Charles Dickens” is a particularly inspired touch.
The Nightmare Before Christmas: Also released in 1993, this Tim Burton classic (directed by animation vet Henry Selick) plays like it was designed with me in mind. After all, what would make a Christmas movie better, in my opinion? A healthy dose of Halloween. Nightmare tells the story of Jack Skellington, the “Pumpkin King” of Halloweentown, who decides to try his bony hand at Christmas… with disastrous results. This macabre musical pays homage to famous forebears like Grinch and Rudolph to render a fantastical world believable. It’s such a joyously weird movie, and yet it works—as cutting edge entertainment and as a very sweet Christmas tale.

Entertaining 'n Green

2008-12-11T09:50:00.000-08:00

Last night I saw Shrek: The Musical, the latest in the seemingly endless stream of family-friendly movie adaptations to hit Broadway. While it wouldn't have been my first choice, my office offered us all free tickets, and I'm never one to turn down a trip to the theater. I was pleasantly surprised to find that Shrek is entertaining and smart, although the "music" part of this musical is ironically the weakest. (The show is directed by Jason Moore, with music direction by Tim Weil.) The production hews closely to the film-- and doesn't skimp on fantastical elements like rivers of lava or amorous dragons. It's to the director's credit that the production moves at a brisk pace, despite occasional slow spots, and feels focused and controlled rather than jumbled or chaotic (no easy feat when you're wrangling big costumes, elaborate special effects and sets, and a large cast). Brian D'arcy James stars as the titular ogre, whose solitary existence is disrupted by a sudden influx of fairy tale creatures banned from the Duloc kingdom by Lord Farquad (Christopher Sieber in an outstanding performance). Shrek heads to Duloc to demand he remove the fairy folk from his swamp, and winds up agreeing to rescue the Lord's would be queen, Fiona (stage veteran Sutton Foster) from a dragon guarded tower. Along for the ride is the sassy Donkey (Daniel Breaker), who is as amusingly obnoxious/ingratiating here as he was on screen. It's unfortunate that the music by Tony nominated composer Jeanine Tesori is so forgettable, but the show as a whole isn't lacking in wit or heart. David Lindsay-Abaire's book hits just the right notes of clever, adult-friendly satire and emotional depth, even if the lyrics he contributes are often as mediocre as the notes that accompany them. Still, any show that begins with a line like "This little Piggy needs some Paxil!" deserves our respect. Some may complain, as they did with the movie, that the over-kids'-heads jokes are on the wrong side of edgy, but the children I saw this with seemed totally enthralled. (And why wouldn't they be? Tots today are practically weaned on Shrek.) The show's grandeur and sense of spectacle are just excellent. From puppetry to shifting sets to fabulous costumes, the production provides a massive dose of eye candy without being gaudy. And the whole affair is bolstered by the uniformly good acting: James and the winningly quirky Foster are solid leads, though their supporters truly steal the show. Sieber delivers virtually his entire performance as the diminutive and pompous Farquad *on his knees* , with hilarious spindly legs attached to his costume. (The entertainment value of this transparent and yet effective "illusion" extends to many of the play's tricks; we may see the legs of the man steering the dragon, for instance, but we hardly care, and these behind-the-scenes peeks only add to the joy of the experience.) Even ignoring the physical exhaustion Sieber must go through, his portrayal is simply terrific. He's funny, filled with bluster and personality, and even vulnerable (the writers add a clever back-story that explains the villain's motivation). Meanwhile, Breaker accomplishes the not-easy feat of making Donkey (so memorably voiced by Eddie Murphy in the film) his own: amusing and energetic without seeming annoying. Avenue Q originator John Tartaglia is also in the cast, essaying Pinocchio, the Magic Mirror, and (as puppeteer) the Dragon, but his in-the-flesh-portrayal of the wooden boy is maybe too derivative of Mad TV's fey man-child Stuart. Still, the fairy folk are always a kick to watch, and deliver the closest thing to a gay pride anthem one could imagine in a children's musical, "Freak Flag." (The kiddies may have questions about what the Big Bad Wolf means by "cross-dressing.") By the end, we've been consistently amused and even touched by the story. I won't be running out to buy the cast recording, but I was impressed by the overall production. It's commercial, to be sure, but well produced enough to engage kids and avoid nauseating their parents.

Best. Episode. Ever.

2008-12-10T08:54:00.000-08:00

Okay, maybe that's a bit of a hyperbole, but this week's Gossip Girl was damned good. And not just because it was all about Chuck. And Chuck and Blair. But also because we finally learned-- oh wait, I'm getting ahead of myself. It's the aftermath of Bart's death, and Lily is understandably freaked. Not only is her bitchy mom Cici back in town for the funeral, but she's racked with guilt considering she was about to break up with her husband when he got killed. Rufus knows this, as the two share a brief interlude in Central Park. (I'm such a dork for thinking this, but I kept wondering if they were under the same arch from Cloverfield.) He tells her that he's there for her, and will wait "as long as it takes this time, be it six months or six years." Of course, knowing these two and their inescapable attraction, it's doubtful it'll be six episodes before they're all over each other. Cici spots the pair leaving together and smirks knowingly. (We later found out that she deliberately followed her daughter. Speaking from experience, when moms get nosy it just never ends well.) Lily tells Rufus she has yet to listen to a voice mail from Bart, but insists she'll do it on her own. She stops outside the park to do so, which in my opinion is ill advised. I mean, if my dead husband had left me a potentially bitter message, I sure as shit wouldn't listen to it in public. Then again, considering her kids know something's up with her, I guess she wants to avoid their prying eyes. Poor Lily. She hears Bart coldly declaring that he wants to talk to her "not about how my wife is making a fool of me with her old lover . . . I know why you were in that sanitarium." (Again with the "sanitarium." Seriously, was she a knife wielding killer in a Shatner mask, or what?) Meanwhile, Chuck's been AWOL-- all anyone knows is that he's been getting food delivered to his room at the hotel, so he's still alive-- and when we see him he's got tousled hair and an even more intense than usual expression. He's at a shady bar meeting dad's old PI, who claims he's going to sell the file on Lily to the highest bidder. Cut to the church for the funeral, where Dan and Rat Boy (aka Aaron) have an extraordinarily cunty exchange on the front steps. "Surrena's on her way," Dan announces. "I just got the same message," Aaron says. "I got it first," Dan shoots back. "I don't have good reception here," Aaron counters. (Comparing cell service instead of pistols, are we, boys? Seriously, they were this close to "my dad can beat up your dad." Although, frankly, Rufus could probably take Wallace Shawn's adorable but diminutive Cyrus. But I digress.) Eric asks Jenny if she's seen Jonathan, his ex boyfriend. "No, are you guys back together?" she asks. "No, but I thought he might want to be here," Eric says vaguely. Umm... okay. I'm cool with Eric's story lines not being front and center, but could they at least make sense? Sometimes I feel like he's on his own, separate show, and we're just catching glimpses and having to piece it together. Maybe he should get that rumored spin-off. Anyway, drama ensues when Chuck arrives, schnockered out of his mind, with Nate and Blair helping him out of the limo. It only gets worse when Chuck spots Dan and screams at him that he has no business at the funeral, because Rufus is responsible for Bart's death. Dan naturally has no clue what that's about, but he agrees to leave and keep the peace, even though Serena protests that she wants him there. "It's okay, let him go," Aaron says helpfully. (Sure it's okay with you, you little greaser. Blech. I fucking hate Aaron. Anyway.) Lily tries to reason with Chuck, but he calls her a "whore" and skulks off. (*Day-um!*) She protests that he should be "with his family" and he responds, "I have no family." Clearly the kid's hurting, and Lily, Serena, et al's feelings are not high on his list of priorities. Back at the apartment, Chuck's still storming around and avoiding offers of help, i.e. Blair suggesting he eat something. Nate tells Blair "You're really good with him," but she tries to downplay it. Meanwhile, Cici spots Chuck stomping up the stairs and decides there's more going on than meets the eye. She urges Lily to confront him about "what he knows"; Lily reluctantly agrees. She finds Chuck ransacking Bart's office and assures him that he's well provided for in the will. He declares that it's the file on Lily he's after, but of course it's long gone now. And his bitter declarations that Lily's to blame for Bart's demise lead her to slap him across the face. (Although, it was kind of a weak slap. Sort of a let-down, not gonna lie.) Meanwhile, Cyrus is so inspired by all the funereal sentiments on life's preciousness that he insists he and Eleanor marry the very next day. Blair is predictably aghast, but manages to go along with it in support of her mom. There's also an all-too-brief interlude in which Jonathan surfaces, much to Eric's delight. (Again, explanations, please. Why'd they break up in the first place? And didn't Bart imply the kid was screwing his coach or something? Give me some closure, Gossip Girl!) Chuck rushes out following his confrontation with Lily, and none of the kids can stop him. "I already lost my stepfather; I don't want to lose my brother, too," Eric says sweetly. "When are you going to figure out that we are *not* related?" Chuck asks coldly. The look on Eric's face is totally heartbreaking. (I loved the budding brotherly relationship between Chuck and Eric; I bet it will be patched up within a couple of episodes. If there's one thing Josh "The OC" Schwartz loves, it's surrogate brothers.) Out on the street, Blair insists that Chuck either stay or let her come along. "You're not my girlfriend," Chuck snaps, and Blair makes a heartfelt speech about how they're not a conventional couple but "We're Blair and Chuck, Chuck and Blair." And she finally utters the words, "I love you." Chuck simply says that that's too bad, hops in the limo, and leaves. BIG moment for those two, though! (Last week I complained that I wanted to see their storyline advance, and this week I got my wish.) At Eleanor and Cyrus' small and private wedding, held at their apartment, Blair arrives in a tizzy because of the encounter with Chuck. She tells Cyrus that she made a fool of herself and that "only a masochist could love such a narcissist." (Ah, Blair, always with the vocab words.) Cyrus hugs and comforts her, and also declares "I love you." (Seriously, this episode could be really sweet. I'm surprised I didn't cry.) The actual ceremony is very cute to watch, especially since it involves a Rabbi. (What? I'm Jewish. I love that stuff.) Rat Boy asks Serena if she'd like to go to Buenos Aires with him for the holidays. He alludes to her feelings for Dan, which she predictably attempts to downplay. But sure enough, she's soon telling Dan about the development, and he asks her, "Do you want me to ask you to stay?" (I thought of Dawson's Creek and Pacey painting the big "ASK ME TO STAY" wall for Joey. But Serena wouldn't do something like that; imagine what paint could do to her clothes!) Serena hints at their potential reunion, but Dan manages to bow out in the lamest way possible: by saying he got THE WRONG MUFFIN from the shop and has to go back. You read that right: the wrong muffin. WTF? Dan, are you trying to be a douche? I mean, really. At least lie convincingly, preferably in a way that doesn't involve muffins. Of course, a chat with Jenny-- who, btw, made the dress for Eleanor's wedding in a cute make-nice gesture-- convinces him he's being a moron and he rushes to Serena's to convince her not to go with Aaron. Unbeknowst to him, Serena's had a chat with Lily and, finding that her mom's still in love with Rufus, gives her blessing to proceed. (Having previously cock-blocked her over the whole "I don't want to date my stepbrother" thing.) So when Dan arrives, his overture is promptly rejected, and Serena insists she's going to "try and make it work" with Aaron. (Yeah, good luck with that, honey. I mean, the man uses more product than you do, and still looks gross. Ugh.) Meanwhile, Lily has told Rufus she "doesn't want to wait 6 years" and wants to finally take that trip they were about to go on last season, before Lily decided to put her daughter first. It inspires Rufus to play that one damn song from his old band Lincoln Hawk. (Did they even have any other songs? No wonder they were one of the Top 10 Forgotten Bands of the 90s. They only recorded a single track!) But Cici arrives and finally tells Rufus the Big Secret, insisting that he and Lily won't have a chance if this revelation isn't out in the open. Earlier we saw Chuck confront Lily with it, and she begged him not to tell anyone, and not to "turn your back on the people who care about you." Chuck seemed to take that advice to heart, both by burning the file (we still didn't see what it said) and showing up in Blair's room unannounced. "What are you doing here?" she demands, before hugging him on the bed as the music swells. Very touching moment, though of course Chuck still didn't utter the L word himself. Later we saw them sleeping side by side, fully dressed, which was really touching. Meanwhile, Rufus tells Dan that he and Lily will never be together, and Dan immediately calls Serena... but it's too late. She ignores the call and promises Aaron she'll give them a chance, as they ride off to the airport. Meanwhile, Lily is waiting happily for Rufus at Grand Central (with like four bags, of course, a girl like her doesn't travel light!) but her face falls when she sees his. "Just tell me," he says, "was it a boy or a girl?" Dum dum duuuuum! I was sort of thinking the secret involved a baby. But does anyone really believe this will keep them apart forever? Maybe just long enough for Serena and Dan to make a go of it, which should be shortly after her return plane hits the tarmac. Finally, Blair wakes up to find a note from Chuck: "You deserve so much better than me. Don't come looking for me." Awwww. Gossip Girl says something bitchy (like she always does), and the show ends. Plenty to keep us wondering until the show returns in January. I can't wait to see what happens with Chuck and Blair, especially: this episode set up new and emotionally rich potential for both characters, especially Mr. Bass (who is, as the PI put it, "about to become the richest kid in New York City"). Hurry back, Gossip Girl-- you know we love you!

How the Ball Bounces

2008-12-04T14:24:00.000-08:00

This week's "unmissable" Gossip Girl turned out to be, if not missable, then slightly underwhelming. For one thing, I can't imagine there was a single viewer who hadn't figured out that Bart was going to die at the end, so no surprises there. Not that the hour wasn't entertaining. After all, any episode that features even one scene of Blair and Dorota bantering is worth its weight in gold these days. (The interplay between that duo is quickly becoming a show highlight; "Shouldn't you be polishing something?" was Blair's latest snappish remark.) First things first: Bart. In his final episode, he's trying to make amends for the whole "private investigator" fiasco, claiming that his snooping days are over. Lily isn't convinced, and when she finds out he is, in fact, still seeing his PI, she tells his assistant he's uninvited from the Snowflake Ball. Yes, that's right-- the Snowflake Ball. Now, Josh Schwartz's last show, The OC, had plenty of dumb party names-- "the SnowC," anyone?-- but "the Snowflake Ball"? Really? Gag me. Anyhoo, Bart's uninvited, which gives Lily the perfect chance to cozy up to Rufus (yet again). You just know these two are made for each other, but between the whole Serena/Dan thing (Serena didn't want them to become Greg and Marcia, and who could blame her?) and her marriage to Bart, there have been myriad obstacles in their way. Chuck spots them having an intimate chat, and immediately calls Papa Bass to tell him to get to the ball, pronto. He also confronts Lily and Rufus, and tells Lily to 'splain herself when Bart arrives. (Speaking of Chuck and Bart, I was bemused when Bart angrily told Chuck, "Don't think I don't know who opened that safe [with the dossiers inside]; I know you know the combination." For one thing, if he knew Chuck had the combination, why didn't he change the friggin' lock? And is it really Chuck's fault Lily's pissed at him? The issue is that he had the dossiers made in the first place.) Of course, before Bart can get there-- but not before we see him conversing with the PI in his limo, where it's announced that there's juicy new dirt on Lily-- he has a car accident and dies, as reported by Lily near episode's end. But enough about the grownups-- onto the craaaazy kids! First up: Serena and Dan, another clearly-meant-to-be pair. Aaron's ex Lexie shows up and promptly flummoxes Serena; Serena walks in on Lexie ranking on the photos of her and writing her off as a blond airhead. The three unite with Dan for an awkward walking tour of Brooklyn, where Dan and Lexie hit it off immediately (much to Serena's chagrin). It only gets worse when Aaron lets it slip that Lexie is, as they say, "fast." He couldn't incite Serena's jealousy more if he tried, although he seems utterly oblivious to the effect this casual revelation will have on her. Serena turns to Blair for advice, admitting that she and Aaron haven't done the deed yet; Blair encourages her to do so, while the rest of us scream "No! Who knows what diseases that skanky boy is carrying! You can do so much better, Serena! *SO MUCH BETTER!*" (Okay, maybe that was just me.) At the ball, Serena manages to tell Dan everything she shouldn't, i.e. "your date is gonna try and get into your pants tonight" and "I'm gonna have sex with Aaron myself." When Dan doesn't act horrified, Serena gets all self righteous and says, "I thought sex meant more to you than that." S, ppplease. Like Dan's gonna be horrified that his date puts out; besides, you told him you were doing the nasty yourself with Rat Boy-- er, Aaron! Luckily, Serena comes to her senses and apologizes, and the two agree that their first time was one of the best nights of their lives. Rumor has it they're getting back together this season; it's not hard to imagine based on this episode. Besides, as my roommate commented, they're the heart of the show's franchise-- "they're Tom Brady." Meanwhile, the Jenny/Nate/Vanessa triangle comes to a head. Vanessa admits she stole the letter from Nate and Jenny is understandably pissed. When Blair's trio of ex-Mean Girl BFFs approach Jenny about designing Penelope's dress for the ball, Jenny agrees in exchange for good pay-- and when she lets it slip that Nate and Vanessa are an item, the girls hatch a scheme for revenge. My first thought was pig's blood, but that's not what they have in mind; instead, Jenny presents Vanessa with a dress as a seeming peace offering, only it's undetectably sheer. At the crucial moment, the girls have a spotlight shine on Vanessa, embarrassing her in front of the whole school. Jenny immediately regrets it, having just witnessed Vanessa break things off with Nate in deference to their friendship. Unfortunately, she's too late to stop the stunt, and both Vanessa and Nate give her the cold shoulder. Nate says the feelings he expressed in the letter no longer apply; "You're not the person I thought you were." At least Jenny tells off the girls, whose attempts to intimidate her fall flat; she's no longer the scared little girl in need of approval. In Chuck and Blair land, their storyline was mildly amusing, but didn't really break any new ground. The two make a bet: they'll each select dates for each other. If Chuck likes his, Blair gets his limo for a week; if Blair likes hers, Chuck gets Dorota. (Poor Dorota. Bandied about like a piece of property!) But the two dates, "doppelgangers" for Chuck and Blair, fall for each other and exclude the twosome. Personally, I think they could have gone further with the resemblances; "Chuck 2" didn't even talk through his nose! But anyhow. Blair and Chuck have another one of their "we're made for each other but can't be together for some vague reason" talks and then decide they at least "have tonight" and dance. Yawn. I love them, but at some point they need to stop playing games and actually make another play at a relationship. In any case, nothing earth-shattering really happened besides the announcement of Bart's death. Next week's show, which promises to reveal more "secrets"-- and Lily slapping Chuck!-- should be more interesting.

"You gotta give 'em hope"

2008-12-04T08:53:00.000-08:00

Last night I saw Milk, the fantastic new film from Gus Van Sant. Sean Penn stars-- in a buzzy, Oscar-worthy performance-- as Harvey Milk, America's first openly gay man to win public office. Penn shares the screen with a strong ensemble that includes James Franco as Milk's long-suffering lover/campaign manager Scott and Josh Brolin as conflicted politician Dan White (whose resentment of the flamboyant and successful Milk boils over into rage and murder). The standout-- besides Penn-- is Emile Hirsch as colorful, fiercely energetic Cleve Jones, who's brought out of his youthful aimlessness and inspired to become a powerful activist. (Jones went on to create the AIDS Quilt; I was lucky enough to meet the man at a recent New York Times Talk and was in awe of all the history he's lived through-- and influenced.) Hirsch expertly embodies this empowered, plucky queer, to such a degree that I really think he's a young actor to watch. (He already garnered strong notices for his starring role in Penn's film Into the Wild.) The movie starts like a Shakespearean tragedy, immediately establishing that its hero will eventually be assassinated, along with San Francisco mayor George Moscone (Victor Garber). Penn is narrating his life story onto a tape labeled "just in case," well aware that his audacious activism has made him a target. We flash back to 1970, when Milk flirts with a cute young man (Franco) in the subway and the two spend the night together. They eventually move to San Francisco, where Milk opens up a camera shop on Castro Street that quickly becomes a community center. Galvanized by the city's homophobia (police, Milk notes, are none too pleased with the neighborhood's new found status as a gay mecca) and by successful efforts to mobilize gays to boycott hostile businesses, Milk decides to run for office. After a string of failed attempts, he finally wins when district rezoning lets the Castro elect him to the Board of Supervisors by a landslide. The campaigning takes its toll on Milk's relationship, however, and Scott leaves when he tires of playing second fiddle to politics. (He remains a friend and ally, however; the emotional chemistry between the actors is richly drawn, and their intimacy is palpable.) Milk soon finds new love with Jack (Diego Luna), a troubled Spaniard; but he has bigger concerns, like growing animosity with would-be ally, Supervisor White, and the need to defeat Proposition 6, which would block gays from teaching in public schools. (The parallel with this year's Proposition 8 is undeniable, especially when Milk declares anti-6 fliers that don't even mention gays as bloodless and ineffectual; the same criticism was lodged at anti-8 commercials.) Milk is up to these challenges, though, expertly using his charm and innate skill at playing the political game to achieve his ends. Van Sant portrays the events with clarity and real human drama, working from Dustin Lance Black's shrewd and insightful screenplay. At times, the movie can feel a little After-School-Special-ish in its gung-ho approach to activism, but that's a minor quibble for a film so rich and beautiful. Van Sant imbues the film with detail and compassion, and it's a gift to both film buffs and gay youth, who are sure to find inspiration and hope in this tale of a gay man who was determined to destroy the closet and win civil rights by any means necessary. I, for one, feel like getting involved again; Prop 8's passage proved that the battle is far from over. Harvey would be proud.

30 Years of Memories

2008-11-24T13:57:00.001-08:00

I'm addicted to Halloween-- the holiday and the movie, a seminal horror classic that spawned seven sequels and a remake (and sparked my love affair with Jamie Lee Curtis). So it should come as no surprise that when I heard about a 30 Years of Terror convention marking the three decades since the original film's release, I was determined to go and experience it for myself. My best friend Ashley gamely accompanied me to this geek-fest, which took place primarily in Pasadena, CA. (This area stood in for Michael Myers' slashing grounds of Haddonfield, IL in the first two films and in last year's remake.) On Friday the 31st (Halloween) we took a 6 hour (!) bus tour covering locations from various "Halloween" films and other horror classics; on Saturday we went to the convention center to meet cast and crew from all 9 films. While Friday's tour was something of a debacle (originally they weren't going to break for "lunch" until 6pm, and was it really a good idea to schlepp out to Hollywood at day's end-- perilously close to rush hour?), Saturday was a pure delight.
The stops on Friday included...
The Myers House (from Halloween, henceforth "H1," and Halloween II, henceforth "H2"; you get the idea). It's been repainted blue (really quite nice looking) and moved up the street from the original location. Our tour guide thought we could take pictures on the porch, but apparently she'd been misinformed as an angry employee came out and started yelling at us. Some things are more scary than Michael Myers! Nearby was Nichol's Hardware Store from H1, which is a Pasadena landmark.
The alley and Mrs. Ellrod's house from H2. I'm glad I'm tall as I was able to see over the fence and look at the window where Michael peered in at Mrs. Ellrod.
The street where Laurie and Tommy took their walk-- and where the ill-fated Ben Tramer (mistaken for Myers and hit by a car) burned to death. In typical fashion, Ashley announced that she was going to "reenact" the burning and started waving her hands around and going "Woosh!" I don't think I'll ever watch that scene the same way again.
Michael's elementary school and Haddonfield High from the remake, which are actually right across the street from each other. Pasadena in general is a beautiful town. Ashley kept talking about how she wanted to live there someday.
Laurie (Jamie Lee Curtis)'s house. It still looks the same and the owners even provided us with pumpkins for photo ops. I loved sitting in the same spot as Jamie Lee.
The Strode and Myers houses from the remake. The new Myers house was also Angela's house on My So Called Life.
The cemetery from H1. I heard some fan reciting the groundskeeper's lines word for word, which was funny.
Sierra Madre, where scenes from H2 and H3 were filmed. We saw the Buccaneer bar from III as well as the storefront where the annoying Silver Shamrock mask commercials played in the movie. (It's now a Domino's.) The highlight of this spot by far was watching Dick Warlock and his son Lance reenact the "Boom Box Boy" scene in H2. (In the film, Warlock's Michael Myers bumps into a boy carrying a boom box, played by his son in an in-joke cameo.) Everyone laughed as Dick walked forward in that very purposeful Myers way. Lance kept bumping into cars on his way over to Dick and joked, "It was the 70s, there were no cars back then!" It was also funny to watch confused locals wondering why a crowd was filming an old man bumping into someone and walking.
The Doyle and Wallace houses from H1 and 2. The Wallace house looks totally different, but the Doyle house is instantly recognizable for its front landing. Ashley got me to say "The keys, oh, the keys!" and dig in my jeans while she took pictures. (She's heard me imitate Jamie Lee's frantic squealing in H1 for years.)
On Saturday was the convention itself, where we met...
Dee Wallace from the remake, "ET," "The Howling" etc. She was very nice. You had to buy one thing to get a photo with her and when I told her I was getting the Frighteners trading cards ($5) she said, "Good choice, a low cost item and you still get what you want!" She joked to Ashley that she should marry me and Ashley replied, "He doesn't like girls." "I like girls," I protested. "I can, um, go both ways." "Aww, a switch hitter!" Dee laughed. It's not every day that Dee Wallace comments on your sexual orientation, but there you have it.
Scout Taylor Compton, the new Laurie. Ashley had just bought the hoodie she wears in the movie, so she complimented her on that. She was so unbelievably nice and took pictures with us and signed my soundtrack, all for free. Just a really great girl. Her Gothy looking boyfriend was there with her, which was cute.
The security guard from Halloween II. He wasn't very talkative, and unfortunately he hasn't gotten any thinner! But everyone else from that film was super nice. Gloria Gifford, Mrs. Alves, was really sweet. We joked with her about how Haddonfield Memorial is America's worst hopsital. Ashley and I explained our feelings about the "forgotten children" when we watched the movie a couple nights earlier. "It was an abandoned hospital offscreen," she said, and I cracked, "It was an abandoned hopsital onscreen." Good point," Gloria said. She also signed a "Haddonfield Memorial Hospital prescription" for me and wrote "Time's up" (one of her lines in the film) on it. Tawny Moyer, Nurse Jill, was nice, and explained how they did the famous "knife raising" scene, in which Michael stabs her in the back and lifts her up and off her feet. There were wires attached to her and crew working a pulley to lift her up just offscreen. Finally, Leo Rossi, Bud, was a very nice guy, and his wife was sweet, too. I know I shouldn't be surprised when people are different from the characters they play, but it still struck me how the guy who played the horndog douche bag in H2 was such a standup guy in reality! (Funnily enough, at one point on the bus tour they played Bud's dirty rendition of "Amazing Grace" from the movie: "Amazing Grace, come sit on my face / Don't make me cry, I need your pie.")
Lew Temple from "Halloween" 2007 and "The Devil's Rejects." One of the things I loved about this convention was how people I wasn't necessarily dying to see turned out to be some of the greatest and most fun. Earlier we met Tom Towles, the sherrif from "House of 1000 Corpses" and one of the cops in "Halloween" '07, who was also quite pleasant. Lew had a cowboy hat on and chatted us up about random stuff. Ashley's friend actually directed a short film that Lew had seen, because he's friends with its star Brian Austin Green. He also talked to us about the "Banjo and Sullivan" CD that came out for "Rejects" and how Fatboy Slim remixed a song for European clubs(!) He signed my "Halloween" soundtrack with his asshole character's line "I wouldn't want to bum the freak out." (Ironically, Temple appeared in a rape scene that was cut from the theatrical version of the movie. When I got the "unrated" DVD, I found the sequence so disturbing and repulsive that I traded it in for the original cut.)
Jenny Greg Stewart, the new Lindsay. She was so cute and, not surprisingly, so little! She told us her mom only let her watch the scenes that she was in. When Tyler Mane first did a scene with her and Tommy, they didn't recognize him, but he took off the mask and then they did. I asked her if it was true that she was genuinely scared in the first scene with Michael, and she said yes, but in later scenes when crew checked to see if she was "okay," she told them, in a very adult voice, "Guys, I'm just acting." (This is why I love kids.)
We sort of tried to talk to Daeg Faerch (young Michael in the remake), but he was really quiet and barely looked up from the phone he was playing with. We ended up just talking to his (vaguely creepy) stage mom. We did see him later talking to Kristina Klebe (new Linda). She said, "You've gotten so big!" It was cute.
I only met Danielle Harris (from H4, H5, and the remake) for a second, on her way out. I didn't actually think she seemed all that friendly, but then again I sort of caught her at a bad time. In any case, Scout was by far my favorite of the "new" Halloween girls.
John Graham (Bob in H1), who's actually gay. I told him I knew one of his friends back in NYC, who was amused when I said, "You know John Michael Graham??" "Well, that's how you knew my name," John laughed. He had the original glasses from Halloween with him and let me put them on for a photo, which was great. I told him how, when I saw the Halloween re-release a couple years ago, some queeny guy shouted, "Take the glasses off!" He thought that was funny.
Alan Howarth (who collaborated with John Carpenter on scores for the first three Halloweens and did his own for parts 4 and 5) was fun to talk to, and was sitting with his gorgeous model/actress daughter. Howarth told me that they were instructed to set the Halloween III jingle to "London Bridge" because it was copyright free. He also said that the music for H2 was all laid over an original tape of the Halloween score, which made sense to me as that soundtrack plays like an 80s remix of the first one. We later saw Howarth perform some Halloween music live, which was kinda neat-- he had a keyboard, synthesizer, and a Mac onstage with him. Tommy Wallace (who worked on the first two films and directed the third) was very nice, and seemed pleased when I told him H3 is actually my friend Roman's favorite film in the series, and that I rather like it, too! Ashley told him that his TV movie It scared her so much she had to sleep in her parents' bed-- at age 13!
We also talked with Nancy Loomis, who I'd met a couple years before at a convention in Worcester. We'd talked about teaching, so I asked her about that again. She's now interested in studying to direct theater professionally, and continues to sculpt.
William Forsythe was a cool guy; Ashley actually thought he was flirting with her a bit and got that vibe from some of the other actors, who were probably happy to see a cute blonde girl at the convention! I told Forsythe he was great in Devil's Rejects and asked him if it was true he got hurt just before filming the Halloween remake. He said it was already in the script that he'd have a cast on his arm, but he broke his leg and had to ask for a leg cast to wear, too. "I think it worked for the character," he explained, "because then he was really like a cockroach." "The ultimate mooch," I agreed.
The very last person we met was Leslie Easterbrook, who played one of the cops in Halloween '07, Mother Firefly in The Devil's Rejects, and starred in the Police Academy movies. She looked good; she seems to have slimmed down a lot since Rejects. I caught her by the elevators and introduced myself; she was very warm. She asked me where I was from and asked how the bus tour was. "Honestly, it was kind of a debacle," I said (it really was, I just left out the boring details and concentrated on the locations for you guys). Ashley was next to me and agreed. "They weren't even planning to give us a lunch break originally," she said. "You two are the first ones to be honest about that," she said. "Must be 'cause you're from New York!" As we left the convention center, I saw her sitting with fans smoking a cigarette. It was such a funny image I wish I'd snapped a picture. Overall, the convention was a very cool chance to see the sites of Halloween and meet the people involved-- almost all of whom were extremely personable.

Gossip Watch: Thanksgiving

2008-11-19T15:20:00.000-08:00

It's Thanksgiving in the Upper East Side, and Gossip Girl served up a heap of drama to go with the turkey and pumpkin pie. (Apologies for all the horrid puns I'm sure to make in this recap.) Blair was in fine form all episode, working herself into a tizzy at the thought that her mom was getting engaged to Cyrus (Wallace Shawn); guess the "truce" didn't last! Her moments with maid Dorota were particularly fun; "Who do you work for?" she amusingly demanded, when Dorota clearly knew more about Eleanor and Cyrus then she was letting on. I also love that Dorota's ring tone is "I'm a Slave 4 U." Blair and Dorota flee the house to boycott Thanksgiving, and when Dorota asks where exactly they're going, Blair snaps, "I don't care if we have to wander the streets all day like characters from a Jane Austen novel, I won't stand for this!" (Only on Gossip Girl do teenagers make so many literary references outside of English class.) Meanwhile, Nate had to deal, once again, with his huge douche bag of a father. Seriously, between the embezzling, cokehead dad and the cold, enabling mother, this kid has the world's worst parents. Daddie Dearest emerges from hiding and asks Nate to come live with them outside of the country. But the FBI is snooping around, asking Vanessa what she knows about Nate, so she enlists Chuck's help (!) to stage an intervention of sorts with their estranged pal. This nicely served as a way to reunite all three characters, and in the end, shockingly, Dad actually did the right thing and turned himself in. Of course Nate had to convince him to do so; it's classic "kids parenting the parents" television. Dan similarly helped his own father see the light regarding wayward Jenny, who began this episode hiding out with Eric at Serena/Lily/Chuck et al's place. In a rather heartfelt storyline, Rufus finally told Jenny how much he loved and missed her, and this softer approach made her see the light at last. "I don't want to not be your daughter," she said, tearing up her emancipation papers and crying. (And, OMG, I totally cried, too.) But before this warm and fuzzy reunion could happen, we had some intriguing dynamics with Eric and Serena's own family. First Bart gives Eric a tip regarding his little-seen boyfriend Jonathan-- implying that he's sleeping with his coach(?!). When Eric asks Chuck about this WTF-worthy comment, Chuck explains that his father retains a private investigator to look into the lives of everyone he knows. Eric thinks this is a little creepy and weird ('cause it is), and Chuck decides to show him Bart's secret safe, filled with all sorts of forbidden goodies. "Are those actual bars of gold?" Eric asks in disbelief. I half expected there to be a girlie mag and a slingshot in with this stash of midlife adolescent escapism. Chuck leaves Eric to pore over the spoils, and he finds three leather bound files on himself, Serena, and Lily. Of course, this is hardly a shock to us, since we know from an earlier episode that Bart had a file on Lily with some sort of Big Shocking Secret in it, but now Eric's even more freaked than before. (Side note: the boy dyed those off-putting blonde locks. I heartily approve.) He brings the files to his mom and Serena, who are suitably aghast. Lily confronts Bart and he simply says he was protecting them, but Lily rejects the excuse and takes the kids out of the house. (Seems like everyone's abandoning Thanksgiving today! Good thing Mickey D's is open.) Of course, the file does serve a function for Serena, who hands it to that icky Aaron character that she's enamored with. (God knows why.) He ran into Dan earlier at Convenient Plot Point Junction-- sorry, the grocery store-- and had his suspicions raised when Dan balked at the comment that "Serena doesn't drink anymore." See, apparently Aaron's sober, and Serena immediately downplayed her hard-partying past to win his approval. (All this for rat-faced stalker boy. Blech.) At least Blair sees the folly in this, urging Serena not to settle for someone who won't put her first to begin with. But Aaron's newfound desire to be exclusive sets Serena's heart aflutter, so she first lies, then admits the truth and hands Aaron the convenient attache case. But he says he doesn't need to look at it; he wants to know everything about her firsthand. ("Fuck that," my friend Patrick commented. "I'd want to read the file!") So, unfortunately, this bit of intrigue hasn't broken them up-- at least, not yet. (Le sigh.) Meanwhile, Lily and Eric visit the same diner where they wound up last year, and we learn a bit about Lily's secret: she was in "a sanitarium," much like Eric was. He's upset his mother didn't tell him this, but she maintains that she wanted to be strong for him. Eric says he looks forward to hearing more about it when she's ready. (Again with the kid parenting.) It's a sweet moment between them. "How did you get to be so wise?" Lily asks. "The nanny," Eric cracks. (Love that kid. Since he and Jonathan appear to be dunzo, I hope he gets another, worthier boyfriend soon-- one who's actually cute!) The pair decide to leave the diner and go to Rufus and Dan's, which also provides a reunion for Vanessa and Jenny. I couldn't remember why exactly Vanessa was even mad at Jenny, but apparently it was because of Nate. He and Vanessa rekindled their flame earlier, with Nate saying he hadn't heard from Jenny "in weeks"; Jenny says the same thing about Nate, and Vanessa insists they shouldn't "let a boy come between us," anyhow. Famous last words: next thing we know, Vanessa's found the letter Nate sent Jenny several episodes back (she's yet to read it since running away from home for two weeks). Vanessa opens and reads it, discovering that Nate felt he "had to stay away" from Jenny because of Dan, but didn't want to-- and couldn't stop thinking about her. The plot thickens; maybe Vanessa will actually turn out to be kind of interesting? (I hope so, because I've pretty much given up on her being the one that dies.) Back in Blair land, the girl's pleasantly surprised to find her gay dad (John Shea) back to visit, with Eleanor insisting she needed his approval for "the man who could become your stepfather" before accepting Cyrus' proposal. What's more, he has his famous pumpkin pie (the one Cyrus horrified her by criticizing earlier) in tow. All together now: Awwwwww. But while there's plenty of bonding going on at the end of the hour, there's the Vanessa bit of intrigue, too, along with Bart creepily idling outside Dan's apartment in his limo. "You know how I said I didn't want to know why Lily was in that sanitarium?" Bart asks someone on the phone (which is very helpful for us viewers). "I changed my mind. I want to know everything." Dum dum dum!!!! (Side note: why does everyone refer to it as "a sanitarium"? All I could think about was the movie Halloween. Was Lily across the hall from Michael Myers?) So concludes another kinda-heartwarming, kinda-dark and weird Gossip Girl Thanksgiving, with previews promising an "unmissable" episode in two weeks. Yep, someone's gonna kick the bucket... and my money's on Bart.

Gossip Watch

2008-11-11T09:39:00.001-08:00

Trying something new this week with a recap of every one's favorite ludicrous teen soap opera, Gossip Girl. I'm not ashamed to say I love this show, especially living in New York which is practically one of the characters. And I love Chuck Bass (Ed Westwick). Looove me some Chuck Bass. Can't quite explain it; objectively he's the least attractive of the male leads, and yet there's just something about the guy. Maybe it's his outrageous wardrobe. Maybe it's the way he always talks through his nose. (With regards to Joel McHale.) Maybe it's that he always acts like he owns everything and everyone he comes in contact with. All I know is that if Westwick is unlucky enough to ever cross paths with me, I will probably end up doing something that will embarrass us both in equal measure. Anyway, on to the recap. Last night's episode continued the spiraling "Jenny goes rogue" plot line. Jenny spent the episode trying to get her clothing line off the ground, with mostly disastrous results. Her would-be partner, Agnes (Willa Holland, who I loved on The OC but who played a total bitch here-- and seriously, what's with the name "Agnes"? Was she born in 1945?) was by turns unreliable and treacherous. Jenny tries to go it alone with a potential agent, only to have Agnes catch wind and burn her entire collection in a barrel conveniently placed by her apartment. (I found it hard to believe that she could scoop up every piece in the whole collection at once, but whatevs.) "You're out of your mind!!!!" Jenny screamed. I know it sucks, little J, but how often do you get to scream those words? Not very. Meanwhile, Blair spent the episode trying to sabotage her mom's new relationship, having instantly decided that the guy (the always wonderful Wallace Shawn) was inappropriate. Blair really is one of the show's best characters; she always gets the best dialogue. Although it was amusing that part of the plot revolved around her 18th birthday, since Leighton Meester looks like she's been on the wrong side of 18 for several years. Anyhoo, this subplot came to a sweet end when Shawn's character won her over, with the help of Cyndi Lauper (!). As for those two star-crossed, currently off-again lovers, Dan and Serena? Well, Dan became convinced that he was the next Deepthroat or something; asked by New York Magazine to dig up dirt on Bart Bass, he stumbled onto some sort of shady real estate scam-- and when he pressed Bart for details, the guy let it slip that someone died, too! Fortunately, Chuck appealed to Dan's decency and he killed the story, while also giving Bart a copy of his thinly veiled account of Chuck's inner turmoil. Finally Bart, who up to now has earned the World's Shittiest Dad title, talked to his son and told him he never blamed him for his mom's death. It was another sweet moment in an episode that demonstrated the heart that (occasionally) boosts Gossip Girl beyond mindless escapism. Serena's storyline was less heartfelt and more mind numbingly saccharine. Up until now I'd been willing to tolerate her "cute" flirtation with a former summer school pal, Aaron; but his "free spirited" philandering, transparently manufactured "scruffy" look, and meant-to-be-sweet-but-actually-just-creepy gestures really got my goat in this episode. At one point he showed Serena a cheesy "installation" involving curtains and photos of her that he'd spent all night constructing; "where does he hang her teeth?" I wondered aloud. These scenes are watchable because Blake Lively is both gorgeous and lovable, but I'd love for her to ditch this rat-faced hipster trash. I sure wouldn't kick Penn Badgley out of bed for the likes of him! At episode's end, Jenny was making the predictable decision to seek emancipation from her parents, even while Dan urged Rufus to get her back home by any means necessary. I'm not sure how I feel about the way this Jenny arc is headed; she's an essentially sweet girl but the writers have gotten her mired in so many bad decisions and cliched rebellion (i.e. her horrendous bangs and raccoon eye shadow) that I'm afraid the character as we know it may never recover. At least next week's ep looks promising: Serena's underused gay bro Eric is back, with newly darkened hair, and so is Blair's suave gay father ("Lois & Clark's" John Shea, who happens to hail from my hometown of Springfield). Just as long as the title is better than last year's lamentable Thanksgiving ep's "Blair Waldorf Must Pie," we should be all set.

Rest in peace, Michael Crichton

2008-11-06T13:57:00.000-08:00

Over the summer I did a post on Jurassic Park, one of my favorite childhood films. I was saddened to hear this week that JP creator Michael Crichton, a best-selling author noted for his cautionary science fiction (and for creating TV's hit ER), died after a long battle with cancer. He was 66. I remember reading about Jurassic Park's genesis in the movie "making of" book. (I took that book with me everywhere that summer of 1993; it's worn and falling apart now.) Crichton said that he had the idea to do something with dinosaurs, but wanted to wait until the "craze" died down. It never did, so finally he just decided to write his book! Of course, no one could have predicted how the novel and subsequent film adaptation would bring interest in dinosaurs and palentology to new heights. I remember reading the book in preperation for the movie; I was only ten at the time and I felt proud of myself for reading such a long book! While the novel is darker and more complex than the fast-paced movie version, it laid the foundation for an adventure that really did thrill audiences the world over. As someone who spent hours poring over toys, books, and trading cards related to Jurassic Park and its sequel, The Lost World, I really have to say: thanks, Michael. You were a brilliant creative mind and you will be missed.

I don't have much to add...

2008-11-06T13:55:00.000-08:00

Except to say wow. I truly am proud to be an American right now.

One Sick "Mother"

2008-10-27T14:07:00.001-07:00

Italian horror director Dario Argento is an acquired taste. Sure, the guy's a legend: "Suspiria" (1977) is hailed as a classic and all of his films are respected for their elegant visuals and freakish scares. But truth be told, watching an Argento film can be a trying affair. There's the bad dubbing. The occasionally flat acting. The incomprehensible plots-- his movies are beautiful and eerie, to be sure, but you may find yourself wondering "What exactly is this about again?" Which makes "Mother of Tears," the long awaited final chapter in the "three mothers" trilogy that began with "Suspiria" and continued with 1980's "Inferno," something of a pleasant surprise. Critics have complained that this movie lacks the bold colors and artful visual aesthetic Argento's known for. But what "Mother of Tears" lacks in those departments it more than makes up for in coherence and naturalism, along with a healthy dose of indelibly gory images. Argento's daughter, the beautiful and talented Asia, stars as Sarah, a young woman who finds out that she alone can stop the return of the last of the witches-- the titular Mother of Tears. Spurned on by the ghost of her "white witch" mother, Asia must unravel the mystery and use her new-found powers to vanquish this evil hag. The dialogue scenes are much more realistic and lively than in previous Argento movies, and the movie as a whole is much more streamlined and easy to follow. But it certainly doesn't skimp on the shocks. As the Mother rises, attracting hordes of creepy Eurotrash witches, anarchy breaks out throughout Rome. Scenes of rioting people and even a mother tossing her baby into a river are suitably unnerving. But they're nothing compared to the bloody kills perpetrated by the film's demons and witches: gouged out eyes, intestinal strangulations, and more are not for the faint of heart. And don't even get me started on the creepy monkey! (Don't ask, just watch and see for yourself.) While the finale left me somewhat underwhelmed-- I was hoping for more of an empowered climax for Sarah-- on the whole I enjoyed this scary and polished effort from Italy's master of the macabre. At nearly 70 years old, Argento is showing no signs of stopping as he enhances his legacy ever more.

Queers for Fears

2008-10-24T09:48:00.001-07:00

Until recently, horror movies and gays weren’t seen as very compatible—despite the fact that an inordinate number of gay men I know are rabid fans. (And you all know yours truly is certainly one of them.) But the list of notable gays in horror film goes beyond fringe films like Hellbent to encompass men who’ve contributed to some of cinema’s greatest screamers. Here's my run-down, originally written for Next Magazine. (You can read my piece on the hottest men in horror in next week's issue.)

James Whale—Back in the very early days of horror, James Whale created not one but two landmarks: Frankenstein and its campier, entertaining sequel The Bride of Frankenstein. Whale worked to inject subtext into the films, which are, after all, about a misunderstood and persecuted outsider. The director was memorably portrayed by openly gay Sir Ian McKellan in Gods and Monsters, a fictionalized account of Whale’s final days.

Vincent Price—An accomplished stage actor and gourmand, the regal Price will forever be associated with horror after appearing in scores of macabre movies. Price was an effective presence in films ranging from Hammer Horror classics like Masque of the Red Death to the gimmicky romps of William Castle. Although Price’s homosexuality was never confirmed, it was a source of intense speculation, and his campy performances and passion for the finer things in life have made him something of a gay icon.

Tony Perkins—The ultimate mama’s boy, Psycho’s Norman Bates, was portrayed by a man just as troubled by his own “dark side.” Perkins had been a teen heart throb and a Tony-nominated actor before taking on the role that would define (and somewhat derail) his career. Looking back at Hitchcock’s classic, we can see subtle moments suggesting Norman was, if not one of us, then certainly a repressed kindred spirit.

Clive Barker—Prolific horror/fantasy novelist Barker created an unforgettable screen monster with Pinhead, the demonic villain in the classic Hellraiser. This S&M inspired baddie took whips and chains waaay beyond pleasure into the realm of horrifying pain. Barker went on to produce Gods and Monsters and has seen many more of his novels adapted for the screen.

Don Mancini—The writer behind Child’s Play resurrected his wise-cracking killer doll, Chucky, with two increasingly queer sequel spoofs: Bride of Chucky, starring Jennifer Tilly and a then-unknown Katherine Heigl, and Seed of Chucky, with a sexually confused, Ed Wood-inspired character named Glen/Glenda. Bride of Chucky also features a likable gay character and a man candy lead (soap actor Nick Stabile). Let’s just say my tape of Bride of Chucky is a little worn around the Stabile’s gratuitous shirtless car wash scene.

Kevin Williamson—The man who revitalized the horror genre with Scream explored gayness more overtly on his groundbreaking soap Dawson’s Creek, but some viewers picked up on subtext in his slasher satire, analyzing the close relationship between killers Billy (Skeet Ulrich) and Stu (Matthew Lillard). (This element was overtly spoofed in the homophobic Scream take-off Scary Movie.) Meanwhile, we have Williamson to thank for introducing us to hunks like Ryan Phillippe (I Know What You Did Last Summer), Josh Hartnett (Halloween: H20), and Milo Ventimiglia (Cursed).

David DeCoteau—I feel almost ashamed to mention him in the same breath as legends like Tony Perkins and Clive Barker, but no run down of horror queers would be complete without mentioning DeCoteau. He’s transformed gaysploitation horror into, if not an art, then into a profitable formula. Straight-to-video cheapies like The Brotherhood, Voodoo Academy, and Leaches transform B-horror conventions into an excuse to put boys in their altogether instead of girls. DeCoteau certainly has a knack for casting quality eye candy: The Brotherhood 2’s Sean Farris went on to star in this year’s homoerotic ultimate fighting hit Never Back Down.

When Good Cakes Go Reeeeeally Bad

2008-10-07T14:07:00.001-07:00

I have recently found what just may be the most awesomely awesome blog ever: Cake Wrecks! (You can visit it in my Links section; I gave it coveted "right under Ashley's blog" status.) The concept is simple (but wonderful): a gallery of ill-conceived, misshapen, or just plain awful cakes. Some are well-crafted, yet undeniably creepy. (Who wants to eat the eerily realistic dead puppy? No one?) Some are laughably bungled, like the girl whose friends asked for a black high heel and instead got a black high... hill. (I hear those are really popular with the 18-24 set.) And then there are those that look even more horrendous when you see what they were modeled after. Above top, the detailed rendering of a dog the customer wanted, and below... what they got. (Don't you just hate it when Fido melts?) Now go on and check it out!

This is why Entertainment Weekly is my favorite magazine...

2008-09-25T09:57:00.000-07:00

Up-to-the-minute and yet sublimely silly. This cover is just genius.

Is anyone else getting scared?

2008-09-25T09:22:00.000-07:00

I was at the gym this morning watching the news. No making up dialogue this time; what they were actually saying was far too serious. The hole that the American economy is in is over 15 Trillion dollars. This new "bailout" they're talking about will possibly cost taxpayers $38,000 a year by 2010. Excuse me? I seem to recall already owing $5,000+ in credit card debt and $15,000+ in student loan debt without the government piling more on! The Bush administration and these greedy capitalist pigs got themselves into this mess, which has in turn hurt all of us, and now we're supposed to bear the burden of digging them back out? This is so ludicrously wrong on so many levels. Adding to the ire is John McCain trying to pull out of Friday's debate with Barack Obama, supposedly because putting the campaign on hold and helping out in Washington is "the patriotic thing to do." Or maybe, just maaaaybe, McCain is unprepared for the debate, nervous about the polls now showing Obama in the lead, and hoping for some more distracting PR? (In a sense, America's financial crisis is the new Sarah Palin! Only much less attractive.) I agree with Obama: this is exactly the right time to hear from both candidates on what they intend to do to fix this giant mess. I only prey that whoever wins protects our wallets, and not just the bank accounts of ludicrously wealthy businessmen.

W. is coming

2008-09-25T09:21:00.000-07:00

http://movies.yahoo.com/movie/1810026489/video/9880120

Visit this link for a new trailer and a clip of George's first meeting with Laura (Elizabeth Banks, who I've always loved). I'm really getting psyched for this movie.

Happy birthday, Jim!

2008-09-24T10:48:00.001-07:00

Since this blog is named after the Kermit the Frog song "It's Not Easy Being Green," I thought it would be appropriate to give a birthday shout-out to the late Jim Henson, who would have been 72 today. Your rich creative legacy will never be forgotten!

Exit politics, enter histrionics

2008-09-22T13:52:00.000-07:00

This weekend I went to see Lakeview Terrace, the new drama starring Samuel L. Jackson as an ornery cop who harasses his new neighbors, an interracial couple played by Patrick Wilson and Kerry Washington. Though the movie earned poor reviews, I still thought the subject matter looked interesting, and Patrick Wilson didn't hurt, either. (I've been in love with this guy since Angels in America. He's damned talented, too.) I myself found the movie to be enjoyable and relatively well done, although I agree with critics' assertions that Neil LaBute's movie (his first time directing someone else's script) just scratches the surface of the provocative issues it raises-- and ultimately devolves into a fairly typical Hollywood potboiler, rather than a truly insightful look at race relations. (At least it's less pompous than the overblown and overrated Crash, which acted like it was the Definitive Look at Race in America-- when in reality it was pretty much a glorified soap opera about bitchy Los Angelenos.) Tellingly, the movie opens not with our nominal heroes, Chris and Lisa (Wilson and Washington) but on Abel Turner (Jackson). One morning Abel wakes up to find new neighbors moving in next door. He watches them with a quiet, nosey intensity; first he thinks it's a May-December couple, as Lisa giddily shows the place to her dad Ron (Harold Perreau). But when he realizes the white "mover" is actually the husband, his surprise and disapproval are written all over his face. Abel introduces himself to Chris with an unsettling car-jacker fake out, then drops some passive aggressive comments about his rap music. "No matter how much of that noise you listen to, when you wake up in the morning, you'll still be white," Turner says. (No, it's not a subtle picture.) Before long, Abel is needling his neighbors left and right, with everything from piercing security lights that he refuses to turn off to a blunt directive that Chris and his wife should move somewhere else. At Chris and Lisa's dinner party, Turner manages to demean and embarrass virtually everyone present within a few minutes. The couple try to fight back, or at least learn to live with the hostility, but events inevitably come to a head-- exit racial politics, enter thriller histrionics. The film is essentially built around Jackson's performance: at this point, he can do this type of steely, aggressive character in his sleep, and the part is by far the most developed one in the movie. We get some insights into what drives him (his grief over his wife proves particularly trenchant), even if we still don't like him. Chris and Lisa, on the other hand, are likable but bland; the actors have good chemistry and bring what they can to their characters, but there's ultimately not much for them to do but react to Abel and have fights with each other. The arguments are generic and shed little light on the very real difficulties interracial relationships can pose; those issues were better explored in 2006's romantic dramedy Something New, with Sanaa Lathaan and Simon Baker. More interesting is the subplot involving Abel's two children; in one scene, Celia (Regine Nehy) and Lisa share a sweet vignette by the pool, only to have it violently interrupted by Abel, who wants to know what his neighbor is "teaching" his daughter. It's too bad the kids vanish from the film with little resolution (shortly before the climax); the narrative of their rocky relationship with Dad could have been a bit more profound than the film's central conflict. In the end, we're left with a decent enough movie that tackles important, rarely handled issues, but on a fairly surface level. Lakeview Terrace is passable entertainment with a higher-than-average IQ, but it could've been so much more.

I'm diggin' it

2008-09-22T13:45:00.000-07:00

I previously wrote about Oliver Stone's W. and it's arresting first poster. I saw a series of ads (including these two) on the way to work today. However the movie turns out, this is a very well done campaign.

Head Games

2008-09-19T13:02:00.001-07:00

So I was at the gym this morning (I haven't been going as often as I'd like to, but I'm working on it) and for the first time I was facing the TVs. Normally I don't work out on that side because there's an intimidating lineup of super-fit people running on the treadmills (I can manage a mere brisk walk myself), but today they were absent. The sound was off, of course; I was listening to my iPod, anyway. (By the way, Weezer makes pretty good workout music. Who knew?) But I found myself inventing dialogue for the people I saw up on the screen. (Please note that I stole a few of these jokes. It was my brain, so I think I'm allowed to rip things off.) First it was Kyle MacLachlan on Live With Regis and Kelly; it took me a while to realize that he wasn't just a guess but a special co-host. What could he and Kelly be discussing? They had shown a montage of pictures of Kyle and his wife and new baby. KELLY: And how was the baby conceived, Kyle? Were you and your wife flailing in a pool? KYLE (chuckling): No, Kelly. It was a bit more romantic than that. KELLY: I have to tell you, Kyle, Showgirls was a big influence on me as a young woman. KYLE: Yes, I hear that from a lot of people. It's an extraordinary film. KELLY: The scene when Gina Gershon falls down the stairs, was that really her or did she have a stunt double? KYLE: Well, I don't know, Kelly. I wasn't on the set that day. KELLY: Because that was quite a fall. KYLE: Well Gina was athletic from a very young age, so it easily could have been her. KELLY: Now Kyle, you costarred on Twin Peaks with David Duchovny. Was he a sex addict then? I mean, could you tell? KYLE: I'm not sure. I was a bit of an addict myself in those days. I still am, to be honest. KELLY: Really? Remind me to get your number. We should meet up after the show. ....At this point I had pretty much exhausted my knowledge of Kyle MacLachlan, so I turned my attention to the news station. They were running footage of Sarah Palin because of the "TrooperGate" scandal. (Side note: can we declare a moratorium on "Gate" as the go-to scandal nickname? It was kind of cute when they did "MonicaGate," but now it's gotten really old, especially since it never makes any sense.) Sarah was speaking. SARAH: I firmly believe that man coexisted with the dinosaurs. Yes, approximately 4,000 years ago. The Flinstones was actually a remarkably accurate depiction of life during that time. What's that? No, I can't say for sure whether The Jetsons will be accurate. There are researchers looking into that right now. They are predicting that the future is going to be much more futuristic than we had originally thought. ...A while later John McCain joined her. JOHN: Yes, she's really something, isn't she. She's a woman! Yes. Sarah believes, as I do, that God created the AK47 so that man could fight the dinosaurs... and the homosexuals. ...After that I gave up on the game, except for a brief imagining of what Kid Rock and his hoochie girls might be saying in his new video. (KID: Yeah, yeah! HOOCHIE GIRLS: We're shaking our booties! Mm-hm!) I was somewhat horrified by MTV's My Super Sweet Sixteen, though: onscreen, legends revealed that the episode's twitlet had a $26,000+ birthday. I found myself trying to remember what I had gotten for my sixteenth birthday. A Fozzie Bear puppet, maybe? And who were these families dumping thousands on their daughters' birthday parties while the rest of the country faces increasingly bleak economic circumstances? More importantly, why wasn't I auditioning shirtless hotties for my birthday party wait staff? If you're looking for a point to this post, by the way, there really isn't one-- it's thesis-less. Just a peak inside my head. Hope you enjoyed. Have a good weekend, all.

What a rip!

2008-09-16T19:36:00.000-07:00

I’ve always been amused by rip-offs. In a popular culture filled with derivative crap, these are some of the most blatant examples—and sometimes the most perversely enjoyable, for their sheer “oh no they didn’t!” awfulness. The first rip-off I can remember seeing was Mac and Me. For those of you unfamiliar with this little 1980s gem, its sole purpose was to promote McDonald’s… while ripping off ET. (Well, that’s not entirely true; Coca Cola backed the movie as well, so numerous references to them pop up.) A boy in a wheelchair (gag me) befriends a grotesque little lost alien and nicknames him “Mac” after his favorite Mickey D’s sandwich. (Great, as if the kid doesn’t have enough to deal with being in a wheelchair, now he’s a prime candidate for childhood obesity.) The two have adventures… or something. I honestly can’t remember a thing about this stupid movie, besides one scene with the mom getting dropped off at Sears (product placement #3!) and a later scene in which the boy’s female friend, dressed in her McDonald’s uniform, gives Mac’s dying mother a sip of Coke from a McDonald’s cup. According to IMDB, the film ends with the onscreen legend “We’ll Be Back,” but since it bombed, they, well… weren’t. What follows is my loose and by no-means-complete list of other notable rip-offs.
Battlestar Galactica—Calm down fanboys, I’m not talking about the critically acclaimed new version, which is apparently some of the most brilliant TV around. I mean the atrocious cheesefest original, which according to some was “like Star Wars every week!” even though it lacked that film series’ quality acting, writing, special effects, or anything. (Yes, there was a time when the Star Wars franchise was well written and acted.) The similarities to Star Wars were so glaring that George Lucas and co. supposedly considered taking legal action. Which is understandable, because we all know Lucas would neeeeever allow his Star Wars legacy to be tarnished.
Friday the 13th—Perhaps no horror film has inspired as many imitators as Halloween, the 1978 horror classic whose massive success ushered in a new era of “slasher films” with holiday based titles: Mother’s Day, April Fool’s Day, Happy Birthday to Me, New Year’s Evil, Graduation Day… the list went on and on. But the first was this slapdash concoction, a dull and irritating film that somehow managed to become a “classic” in its own right. Once again we’ve got killer POV shots, a mysterious stalker, and a creepy “holiday” setting, plus lots of promiscuous teens and one plucky virgin. Audiences were so starved for another Halloween that they flocked to this film, despite the fact that director Sean S. Cunningham and star Adrienne King were a far cry from John Carpenter and Jamie Lee Curtis.
Sunset Beach—Okay, I confess, I loved this show. But in the grand tradition of daytime soaps, which have ripped off everything from The Exorcist (Days of Our Lives) to the death of Princess Diana (the kooky Passions, which was forced to scrap that storyline because of the uproar it caused), this sadly short lived sudser ripped off with abandon. The two I remember the most were its aping of MonicaGate, with an intern/politician affair and prosecutor Ken LaMoon (har, har); and a Scream-ish “Terror Island” storyline, with a masked killer stalking the cast. But it didn’t stop there; in a late-in-the-game bid to jazz ratings, the show had an earthquake and a tidal wave, which capsized a cruise ship filled with characters enacting their very own Poseidon Adventure.
Dawson’s Creek—Even nighttime soaps have a tendency to rip things off, as evidenced by this teen melodrama (another favorite of mine). In Season 2, the characters enacted kinky Titanic-esque scenarios like a nude portrait session (“Except, I’m Jack and you’re Rose,” Joey remarked to not-yet-out Jack) and steamed-up car make out session. In Season 4, a dramatic Perfect Storm take-off served as a larger-than-life backdrop for the deathless Dawson/Joey/Pacey triangle (cause hell hath no fury like horny, jealous teens!) and a goofy Blair Witch episode was less than successful.
Lipstick Jungle/Cashmere Mafia—Is it possible to rip off yourself? Seems that way, given that these two Sex and the Wannabes are from Candace Bushnell and Darren Star, the minds behind the original single gals in the city series. Viewers saw through one of these duds (the cancelled Cashmere Mafia, which deserved to die for the title alone), but Lipstick Jungle is back with the beyond-bland tag line “Bright lights, big city, best friends.” Personally, I prefer Saturday Night Live’s pitch perfect parody, Lady Business: “Now that I’m here there are gonna be some changes. Meetings are no longer mandatory—they’re womandatory!” At least the creators of that sketch acknowledged just what it was they were ripping off.

Check it out

2008-09-09T13:54:00.000-07:00

Since the name of this blog is inspired by Kermit-- along with the picture at right-- I figured it would "behoovie" me (as they say in Strangers With Candy) to include the following link. It will forever change the way you look at Kermit, Christian Bale, and possibly the world.

Remember the rules

2008-09-09T07:10:00.000-07:00

This weekend I picked up a new copy of Gremlins, Joe Dante’s 1984 horror comedy. In this Steven Spielberg-produced classic, creatures run amok in the Capra-esque town of Kingston Falls on Christmas Eve; it’s the kind of odd mix (of humor, heart, and horrific satire) that shouldn’t work but does. The premise is beyond ludicrous: Gizmo, a cute as a button “Mogwai,” multiplies with water, and these new, meaner creatures transform into vicious armor plated beasties once they eat “after midnight.” (What are we talking about here, 12am-6pm? And what about time zones? A technician wonders about this in the sequel, and is brutally mauled for his trouble.) As a kid, I was absolutely obsessed with this movie and especially its sequel, the unbelievably entertaining Gremlins 2: The New Batch. You know how kids have their comfort movies and books that they can watch or read over and over again and never get tired of? Gremlins 2 was mine, though the original got its fair share of viewage—after twenty years, the VHS was finally showing its age this weekend, which is why I broke down and bought the DVD at Virgin Megastore. But I didn’t just watch the movies; I bought the puppets, trading cards, and toys, and drew my own Gremlins comics and stories. In elementary school, I got upset when I tried to draw a rabbit and everyone in my class—including my teacher—was convinced I’d drawn a Gremlin! I can also remember asking Santa if Mrs. Claus could sew me up a Gremlin puppet (only Gizmo had gotten one at this point), as my horrified parents shook their heads “no” in the background. (They’d already been forced to tear apart the house looking for the missing Nutcracker I was convinced “Santa” could find years earlier.) I’ve never really thought about just what it was that so fascinated me with Gremlins. I was always a “spooky” kid—the one whose preschool teachers deemed him in need of evaluation because he was always talking about witches and monsters—so Gremlins definitely served my appetite for the latter. And maybe, like The Nightmare Before Christmas, Gremlins subversively spoke to my need to make Halloween extend all year long; at one point, Kingston Falls’ DJ yells, “Hey kid, this is Christmas, not Halloween!” Besides, I was a Catholic school student, and the oppression of my environment was brilliantly skewered by the Gremlins’ anarchist sensibility. These creatures are gleefully nasty, spitting in the face (at times literally) of order. Mrs. Deagle, the cantankerous bitch (as unforgettably embodied by Polly Holiday) gets her comeuppance in one of Gremlins’ most famous scenes; her automated wheelchair zips up the stairs and out the window, and for a kid who nearly had a nervous breakdown because of his third grade teacher, this ghastly demise probably filled a deep psychological need. On another level, fresh scrubbed cutie Billy (Zach Galligan, an appealing actor who went on to not much of anything else) was an early indicator of my sexual identity. (From the sounds of his sibilant commentary on Gremlins, Zach and I might have something in common.) Beyond all this self analysis, though, Gremlins was just an original and fiercely entertaining franchise. The movies are campy and extremely dated, but they hold up surprisingly well. Slickly produced and cast, they offer laughs and chills and go out of their way to be as wild and enthralling as possible. I’ll always have a place for them in my heart, and I have a feeling my own children will, too.

A real gym bunny (??)

2008-09-08T19:38:00.000-07:00

So I’ve decided to get in shape—at long last!—and so have joined the Chelsea Piers Gym, right by my work. (“Does your gym inspire you?” ask their ads. Umm, I dunno, but that dude in the Speedo sure does.) I went in the morning, to get a workout in before my shift. It was quite nice, actually. Not many people there. The views were pretty cool, too. Naturally I worked up a sweat—I haven’t been to the gym since the mid-90s!-- but it felt good to finally be doing something to improve my own health. I stuck to the treadmill and the cycle; I was a little freaked out by some of the wacky, intense machines being used by other people. A blond woman in her 30s was on her back, moving her legs which were slung in some kind of weird strap configuration. I thought she looked like Chelsea Handler, and then wondered what if it was her? But then I figured Chelsea must have her own private gym. I mean, can you imagine how annoying it would be if you were her and at the gym, getting mobbed by random muscle Marys? “Oh my God, I loooove your show! What do you think of Sarah Palin?” And you’re trying to be nice, and accommodating, and think up some quip about Palin but really you’re just sweaty and annoyed and needing to be left alone so that you can do your Cardio. (By the way, I checked and it wasn’t her.) Afterwards I hit the showers. (Wow, I’ve never written that before. Doesn’t it sound soooo butch?) I’ve always been a modest person, and so the locker room freaks me out a bit. I’ve never understood how guys tuck in their towels so that they cling perfectly to their bodies. Whenever I try that—and I did today, believe me—the towel always falls off really easily. Luckily there weren’t many people at the gym at that time, so I wasn’t too freaked. But when I returned to the locker area, there was a gorgeous, buff boy sitting on the bench—not the kind of person I want seeing me naked in my current state. I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized I was in the wrong row, and my stuff was in the next one over. Thank God for small miracles! Maybe in a few months I’ll be ready to do the Full Monty in front of the cast of Another Gay Sequel, but not right now.

I am Jack's anxiety

2008-08-11T19:33:00.000-07:00

So I'm waiting for Jacob to get here; he's visiting for the week and he called a little while ago to say he had landed at JFK and was on the way. Now, anyone who knows me knows my feelings regarding this kid are complicated. I definitely still have feelings for him, but at the same time I know that he's hardly the ideal match for me; it's just that old habits die hard, I guess. A couple weeks ago I had this big "revelation" (thanks in large part to Ashley) that no matter how much Jacob changes-- and to be sure, he's changed a lot since we met a year ago-- he'll never be the kind of guy I need, not in a relationship, anyway. And I thought this would finally help me move on and let go and yada yada yada, but now that he's coming I'm not so sure. I guess I'm afraid that old feelings are going to overwhelm me and make me all lovelorn and moody. It's like my head and my heart are two very separate entities and one is not listening to the other! But really, I think this week is going to be good for us and perhaps the realities of what our relationship is now, as opposed to what it was or I might wish it is will help me really and truly move on, after all. I think this visit will be good for both of us. Maybe I can finally snap out of it and realize that Mr. Right is still out there-- I just have to keep the faith.

My interest is piqued...

2008-08-05T09:43:00.000-07:00

Last week the first teaser for Oliver Stone's biopic W., about everybody's favorite President, hit the internet. Stone's films are always controversial, and early word has it that this movie will be about as "fair and balanced" as a Fox News telecast, but I have to say the trailer looks great. (Look it up on YouTube and you'll see what I mean.) From choice lines like "All you ever do is drink, do drugs and chase tail-- what do you think you are, a Kennedy?" to the fabulous cast-- Josh Brolin as W., James Cromwell and Ellen Burstyn as his parents-- it looks like a compelling package, even if it turns out to be wildly inaccurate. The spot also gives us first glimpses of Elizabeth Banks (who I've adored in everything from The-40-Year-Old Virgin to Slither) as Laura Bush and Thandie Newton as Condoleeza Rice, among others. This excellent poster is equally intriguing. I'll be in line for this come fall, just days before that other significant November event.

X Marks the Underwhelming, Poorly Written, Homophobic (!) Spot

2008-08-04T13:16:00.000-07:00

At the beginning of The X Files: I Want to Believe, the first new adventure for Mulder and Scully since the series ended in 2002, we follow two parallel events: a frightened young woman, chased by menacing men; and a team of FBI agents seeking something out in a snow field, assisted by a strange old man (Billy Connoly). The inter-cutting is more confusing than scary, and the final revelation in the snow, as Agent Dakota Whitney (Amanda Peet) digs with her bare hands, strangely unassisted by the team of men holding pick axes (apparently standing there just so Xzibit's Agent Mosley Drummy can bark, "Hold the line!") is decidedly underwhelming. It's an arm. A partially frozen arm. In the snow. It's what Dexter finds on an off week-- we waited six years for this? Sadly, this sub-par opener sets the tone for the rest of the film, a slow-moving, convoluted whimper of a movie-- when fans were clamoring for a bang. Soon we're back with our heroes, oft-expressionless Fox Mulder (David Duchovny) and gravely skeptical Dana Scully (Gillian Anderson), no longer with the FBI but inextricably drawn into the snow field goings on because-- well, because there's no movie otherwise. It's nice to see the two reunited on screen, along with some sly winks at all the die-hard "X-Philes" in the audience: Mulder's bowl of sunflower seeds, a photo of his abducted sister Samantha tacked on the wall. (If only the film had contained more of these unobstructive but enjoyable in-jokes, I might have been more forgiving.) They're soon on the case, naturally, trying to track down a missing FBI agent with the help of the aforementioned (supposedly psychic) old man, a pedophile priest desperately seeking redemption. Naturally, the Catholic Scully is particularly hard on him; I wish the movie had gone a little deeper with this subplot, since so many real-life Catholics have been repulsed by the church-wide sex abuse scandal. Instead, we get a standard-issue procedural lacking the sense of urgency that a race to save a missing agent deserves; Peet and Xzibit's bland characters do little but service the plot (the latter's character may as well be named Agent Angry Black Guy), and if the film needed FBI agents, why not Robert Patrick and Annabeth Gish's Doggett and Reyes, from the later years of the show? (That's right, I just wrote that I would have preferred Annabeth Gish. In a movie I paid to see.) Actually, I wish there had been more returning characters, but I suppose that would have been tough since so many fan favorites-- Cigarette Smoking Man, Krychek, even the Lone Gunmen-- went off to that Big Sci-Fi Convention in the Sky. The best parts of the movie are those focusing on Mulder and Scully's relationship-- more intimate than ever, for all you S-on-M action junkies-- and their continuing struggles with issues of faith and trust. Duchovny is serviceable as Mulder, while Anderson shines again as the more complexly drawn Scully. Her subplot involving a dying boy is relatively affecting, avoiding any undue treacliness; unfortunately, the script does neither star any favors. From ham-handedly obvious dialogue-- "I feel a connection to this boy," Scully declares in blatant defiance of the Show Don't Tell rule-- to plot holes large enough to fly a UFO through, The X Files:IWTB seems like the work of someone who's gotten awfully rusty when it comes to Screenwriting 101. While Scully briefly alludes to Mulder hiding out since fleeing charges in the series finale, she fails to mention how she managed to get off the hook entirely, rising to chief surgeon while Mulder grew a Grizzly Adams beard in a remote cabin. Also left unexplained is why, exactly, a Catholic hospital let Scully engage in a highly controversial stem cell research procedure. (We know it involves "stem cell research" because the phrase "stem cell research" is uttered around 49 times.) To make matters worse, series creator Chris Carter-- here the writer/director-- makes the dubious decision to cast a Sinister Gay Couple as the villains: when Xzibit asks "Guess who he's married to in the state of Massachusetts!", I wanted to chuck my X Files lunch box at the screen. (Also, one of the two men was abused by the priest as a boy. Thanks for perpetuating that spurious connection, Chris.) In the end, the Big Reveal is as murky and lackluster as the rest of the movie, though-- spoiler alert, I suppose-- the movie finishes strong with a hopeful little coda involving Scully. Maybe it's our fault for not watching Harsh Realm, but Carter seems out of practice when it comes to writing and producing a good story. Like any series, The X Files produced some turkeys, but at its best, it was thoughtful and compelling entertainment that could alternately thrill, amuse, and provoke. I Want to Believe barely does any of those things; throwaway gags involving W. and the end credits are the best things in the film. I chuckled as I got a last look at Mulder and Scully, but after this strained affair, I'd prefer the two ride into the cult phenomenon sunset for good.

Thanks for Everything, Michelle Pfeiffer

2008-07-24T13:20:00.001-07:00

Last night Patrick and I attended a special post-Pride showing of Superheroes: Fashion and Fantasy at the Met. The exhibit showcases comic book inspired fashions as well as original costumes from movies like The Dark Knight, Iron Man, and Spider-man 3. My personal favorite, of course, was Catwoman's leather outfit from Batman Returns (1992). (The astoundingly tiny costume can be seen below next to an example of Catwoman-ish couture.) When I was growing up Batman Returns was one of my favorite films; it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say I've probably seen it close to 100 times. While writing my recent post on Jurassic Park, I realized that these two films' butt-kicking female heroines were very inspiring to me in ways that take on added significance from my current perspective. I'm not sure what, exactly, makes female superheroines so appealing to gay men, but they come up again and again in many of our childhood experiences; openly gay writer Phil Jimenez, for example, had a lifelong fascination with Wonder Woman when he took on scripting duties for her comic a few years back. Maybe it's because they, like us, are feminine individuals who defy expectations by being every bit as empowered and aggressive as their more masculine counterparts. And with their provocative outfits and lithe bodies, they express their sexuality in ways that challenge conventional mores. Catwoman certainly does the latter; always a fetching character, she explodes onto the screen in Returns with a skintight leather bodysuit and punishing whip that would make Betty Page proud. Michelle Pfeiffer's utterly brilliant performance (the kind that so often gets ignored by the stodgy Academy) depicts a woman who jarringly transforms from meek and mousy secretary Selina Kyle to mischievous dominatrix Catwoman. Surviving a murder attempt by her boss Max, Selina is revived by a horde of alley cats and returns home in a post-traumatic haze. In one of the most bizarre and astonishing sequences I've ever seen, Selina proceeds to trash her apartment, eliminate anything cutesy (up to jamming stuffed animals down the garbage disposal), and manufacture a stunning ensemble equipped with cat ears and razor sharp talons. "I don't know about you, Miss Kitty, but I feel so much yummier," Pfeiffer purrs in a voice miles away from the flustered Selina's. The next day she shocks Max-- and an intrigued Bruce Wayne (Michael Keaton)-- by showing up at work, alive and well, with a claim that the night before is a "complete blur." She's also got a new, frizzy hairstyle and dark eye makeup. "Well, I remember the day I forgot to wear my underwear to school and the name of the boy who noticed was Ricky Freeberg," Selina offers. "He's dead now." Catwoman's next appearance cements her status as a postmodern feminist icon. "Be gentle, it's my first time," she tells an unruly mugger before kicking his ass. "Thanks," his would-be victim starts to say, before Catwoman cuts her off with a restraining paw. "Always waiting for some Batman to save you," she says mockingly. "I am Catwoman. Hear me roar." She then back-flips away in a jaw-dropping stunt. To say that I loved this character would be a gross understatement. She was one of the most amazing things I'd ever seen-- powerful, funny, and with an uncompromising sexuality that seemed alluringly adult and exotic to my nine-year-old self. Like many of the women who saw the film, I think I wanted to be her. (My straight male peers were just as in love, in a whole other way; in a chat I had earlier today, my friend Lucas wrote, "Dude, but every straight guy loves Catwoman, too.") I remember my dogged pursuit of the inexplicably rare Catwoman action figure as well as doing an impression of her grand entrance; standing before Batman and the Penguin, she says simply, "Meow." (File that as Sign # 2,576 that Should Have Given My Mother a Clue.) I know I wasn't the only one who was inspired; one of my dad's coworkers took his little girl the same day we saw the film, and when Catwoman made her final, triumphant appearance at the end, she stood up in the theater and shouted, "Yay, Catwoman!" Last night, as I looked at the stitched together outfit on display, I told Patrick simply, "That's a part of my childhood, right there." I'll always be grateful to this character (and those who created her) for showing all of us just how powerful we could really be.

All About E

2008-07-22T09:34:00.001-07:00

Greetings, East Siders. Gossip Girl here with the latest dish. I hear that J and E, everyone's favorite frienemies, may be done for good. Seems J got a nasty email from E yesterday-- something about how "creepy and stalker-ish" he was being to a mutual filmmaker friend of theirs. Details are sketchy at best, but I have a feeling this has way more to do with E's sour grapes at being "abandoned" by his onetime pal than it does with anything J might have done. Either way, it looks like J's cutting all ties now. E may just find himself self-destructing all by his lonesome. A word of advice from yours truly, though: you don't know what you've got till it's gone. Have a pleasant meltdown, E. xoxo Gossip Girl