It appears as though my home computer prematurely died last night. It was only three and a half years old, but I guess my pedantic rants and feeble movie reviews of even feebler movie were too much for its weak CPU to tolerate. I can't really blame it. I deserved it. This development, however, means that I'll be blogging far less in the coming week or two. Stifle your sarcastic sympathy. I'll have a new computer at some point (I guess), but until then I might have to just repost some oldies but goodies from my MySpace blog.
Here's an interesting news story from last week that seems to have been swallowed up and overlooked by Michael Jackson's death: Beginning next year, the Best Picture category at The Oscars will double from five nominees to a rather astonishing ten, something which was the norm back in the 30's, but which was last seen in 1943 when Casablanca won.
Ten nominees? Certainly there are some years in which outstanding films are controversially left out of the Best Picture race, but more often than not the list is already a bit on the thin side. I know this year still has six months left, but can you honestly name me five films thus far worthy of a Best Picture nomination? Try naming ten and you quickly get down to films like Star Trek and The Hangover---both entertaining, but neither worthy in the "Oscar tradition." The change in format, done largely to increase the show's sagging ratings of recent years, is being roundly criticized for fear that it will "diminish the award's value, encourage bloc voting for obscure titles and possibly yield a best picture that wins with less than 11% of the total votes cast."
I don't take the Oscars seriously and I don't get as excited about it as most people do. In fact, it's probably been a good three or four years since I watched the show at all. Even so, I fail to see how this populist approach to the Best Picture category benefits anyone except the producers of the Oscars and the producers of the five other films which would otherwise not have been nominated. I can imagine a scenario where you get a Cinderella-type movie that gets nominated out of nowhere and becomes "the little movie that could," generating lots of buzz and goodwill, but unlike the NCAA basketball tourney which thrives on game to game upsets, the Oscars doesn't really have that sort of build up and validation. There's not a bracket or a head-to-head showdown. If there was, THAT would certainly boost ratings. But I guess that's not classy enough for Oscar. Yet.
One other change the Oscars announced, one which I do endorse, is tighter regulation on which songs are eligible for Best Song. Based on the new rules, it's possible there may be no songs nominated in a given year (fingers crossed).
A few years ago, in order to make sure songs that were actually in context of a film were recognized versus just closing credit tracks, the Academy forced their music committee to watch all the submissions in context during a number of screening events. However, because these are limited screening events, not all members could attend and it created some strange omissions such as Bruce Springsteen's track for "The Wrestler" this year. Now, the Academy is making it even harder for songs to get in. If a track doesn't get an 8.25 vote overall it will not be considered at all. This could lead to only two nominees or even -- god forbid -- none in a calendar year.
The trailer for the vampire-themed movie Daybreakers has finally hit the nets...and it looks great. I admit I'm already partial to Willem Dafoe and Ethan Hawke, but throw in Placebo's excellent cover of Kate Bush's "Running Up That Hill" and I'm sold.
For reasons still not entirely clearly to me, last night I found myself at a massage parlor in Chinatown. And no...it wasn't that kind of massage parlor, as evidenced by the "No hankeepankee" sign in the lobby. No, this was a legitimate place of business, the kind that believes they can control your colon and kidney(s) by rubbing certain parts of your feet. I skipped the foot/colon rub and opted for the old fashioned 15-minute back rub.
It started out as relaxing, sure, but the last ten minutes basically consisted of a tiny man putting his elbow into my back in much the same way Randy "Macho Man" Savage might apply his flying-elbow move to the back of some unsuspecting wrestler. He then karate-chopped my ass and thighs which, if nothing else, convinced me I should hit the gym a bit more.
Sky Saxon, leader of the Los Angeles 1960's garage-rock band The Seeds, died early Thursday morning in Austin, Texas. His obit makes no reference to child molestation charges. Gee, I wonder why? Oh, right. Because he didn't.
The fascinating and sad fall of South Carolina Gov. Mark Sanford will be well remembered due to the odd circumstances leading up to his tearful and sincere apology today for marital infidelity. "Going for a hike on the Appalachian Trail" will now become a deeply ingrained metaphor for going off to have an affair. And no married man will ever be allowed to visit friends in "Argentina" again. But for me, the most curious aspect of this story is Sanford's contention that his "dear, dear" friend from Argentina is someone whom he became friends with eight years ago...but which only became sexual in nature within the last year. While he did lay his soul pretty bare in his painful confession today, it's this one point which I somewhat question.
In my experience, which is definitive (as we know), there's a small window...mutual in nature...in which if something sexual is going to happen between friends it either does...or it never does. Let me put it to you another way: If you're someone I've known for eight years or more...you are someone I do not want to have sex with. I may have at some point in the past wanted to, but certainly no longer. In fact, the thought repulses me. Dear, dear friends of mine from before 2001, the thought of sex with you is revolting. I know you too well. The magic is gone. Quite frankly, it's a struggle to just be friends with you. I guess what I'm saying is: 1) I'm not sure Sanford is telling the whole truth here. 2) Hot, attractive friends of mine who still fall within the window of opportunity...the clock is ticking.
But beyond that, check out the Argentinian Coat of Arms. I mean really check this shit out. I'm not going to explain what I see. I think it's obvious.
Michelle Malkin, among other conservative bloggers, is making a big deal out of a "coordinated" question between Obama and the Huffington Post at today's press conference. While Obama's set-up to the question obviously involved a bit of grandstanding, it was grandstanding in the best possible way...the way that tells those both here and abroad that he's wired into the situation in the only real way it's being communicated: the internet. Here's his set-up:
“Nico, I know you and all across the Internet, we’ve been seeing a lot of reports coming out of Iran,” Obama said, addressing Pitney. “I know there may actually be questions from people in Iran who are communicating through the Internet. Do you have a question?”
The journalist, Nico Pitney, then proceeded to ask one of the toughest, most pointed questions of the entire press conference:
“Under which conditions would you accept the election of Ahmadinejad, and if you do accept it without any significant changes in the conditions there, isn’t that a betrayal of the — of what the demonstrators there are working towards?”
Jesus---you'd think for such a liberal rag the guy from The Huffington Post could have served up a bit more of a softball, no? Malkin does admit that, "The question itself was unobjectionable," but she objects to the "embarrassingly obvious and patronizing coordination of the question." So...is Obama supposed to just ask without coordination, "Does anyone have any questions from the Iranian people? Anyone? Anyone?"
Quite frankly, if Malkin says the question is "unobjectionable," then that's code for "damn hard question I can't find any way to make a fuss about." So rather than make a fuss over a question that can't be fussed over, or make a substantive critique about the two-minute response Obama gave (she called it "bland and rambling"), she instead chooses to make a fuss over...the President coordinating the unfussable question. For the record, it doesn't seem that Obama knew what question Pitney would ask...only that he would be asking a question that had been received directly from an Iranian citizen.
Via Politico: Deputy press secretary Bill Burton responds: "We did reach out to him (Pitney) prior to press conference to tell him that we had been paying attention to what he had been doing on Iran and there was a chance that he’d be called on. And, he ended up asking the toughest question that the President took on Iran. In the absence of an Iranian press corps in Washington, it was an innovative way to get a question directly from an Iranian."
Yes, clearly this is yet another case of the liberal media cooperating with Obama.
Update: Sony Pictures Finally Reads Moneyball Script...Project Stopped
"Brad Pitt in a baseball movie based on a bestselling book and directed by Steven Soderbergh." That was probably the extent of the pitch needed to get the suits at Sony Pictures to greenlight the $50 million project Moneyball. Any why not? It's a good pitch.
But remember about a month ago when I wrote here that my mind was completely blown that they were actually making a movie about baseball...statistical analysis? I was on to something. It seems nobody at Sony bothered to dig beyond "Pitt, Soderbergh, and baseball," until today...just hours before principal photography was to start. Now, according to Variety, Sony has shockingly placed the project into "limited turnaround," effectively making Soderbergh a free agent capable of shopping it to a different studio if he wants to see this project saved.
Given the talent involved, given the unusual narrative structure which Sony seems to have balked at, given the subject matter, and given what now seems to be a production backstory worthy of its own movie, I pray Soderbergh doesn't strike out in his attempts to find a studio to pinch-hit for Sony.
Update: The Los Angeles Times now reports that Paramount and Warner Bros. have both passed on it, meaning this project is deader than a Bobby Witt fastball unless Soderbergh agrees to dramatic changes in the script. One sticking point, evidently, is Soderbergh's desire to film it in an improvisational documentary style. Lenny Dykstra, Darryl Strawberry and Brad Pitt doing improv. This movie may never get made, but you can bet your life there will be a tell-all book about this one day.
I'm always fascinated by the search strings which lead unsuspecting visitors to my blog, especially the ones that leave those visitors sorely disappointed. The latest entry to my search Hall of Fame is "Julianne Moore jerks son off clip." Evidently, according to Google, I'm the third most likely blog to contain this video clip from the incest-related movie Savage Grace. I could, in fact, go ahead and post the clip (readily available on YouTube), but instead I'll just post a picture of Moore as the sexy, killer super computer Aria in Eagle Eye.
From the "more bad shit happening halfway across the globe you wish you didn't have to hear about" department comes this story from Time:
South Africa's Rape Crisis: 1 in 4 Men Say They've Done It
South Africans received a horrifying measure of just how bad their country's rape crisis is with the release this week of a study in which more than a quarter of men admitted to having raped, and 46% of those said that they had raped more than once. The horrifying thing, of course, is that those are the men who admit to having committed the act of rape...many of which, according to the study, "see no problem with what they had done." With a culture that permissive to the abuse of women, it's little surprise that South Africa elected as their President earlier this year, Jacob Zuma, an unabashed polygamist, and a man who was acquitted in 2006 of raping the daughter of a family friend with the defense that, "the woman had dressed provocatively, in a traditional wrap-around kanga, and that it was against Zulu culture for a man to leave a sexually aroused woman unsatisfied."
I rarely give Morgan credit, since it's my unspoken job to pretty much do the exact opposite of that, but every now and then she comes through with something mildly redemptive. I found the video below on her blog and it's my new favorite thing of the week. If you work at a museum, you should see it. If you like cats, you should see it. If you have seven and a half minutes to kill, you should see. Just see it.
...which, some would argue, is not much of a stretch to begin with, it seems to me that the best way to quash a peaceful uprising would be to...DO NOTHING. I know it's cool to use violence when you're an evil dictator, and there is something fiendishly brilliant about helmeted men with batons on motorcycles, but the ultimate goal of any dictator is to remain in power for as long as possible through any means necessary. If I were going to lose an election, faking the election results would make perfect sense...naturally. But when people start protesting the results? The smart thing isn't to beat them into submission, it's to simply let them be. Let them peacefully march. Let them mass. Let them bitch and moan. In the end, peaceful protests don't accomplish much. The catalyst for real change isn't the marching, it's the predictable and violent reactions to it by the dominant power structure.
Not to take away from the courage of the Iranian people to stand up against great odds in the name of freedom, but is there much doubt that this would a somewhat dead issue by now had Ahmadinejad simply been a little less dismissive, a little more placating, and a lot less totalitarian? Certainly there would be outrage. Certainly there would be protests. Certainly there would be calls from other nations to investigate. But all of those outcomes are ultimately political challenges which can be overcome. And I guess therein lies the genius of civil disobedience...which is that it seems to naturally provoke the true nature of the side being opposed. In this case, peaceful protests have been met with thuggish violence. It's the scenes of innocents being taken from their beds and of unarmed students being shot dead in the street which will create change...if not now, then later.
If I were an evil dictator, I'd still be in power...and not an ounce of blood would have been shed.
With the arrival of summer, Boy Hates Girl will likely be posting less frequently in the coming weeks...a sure sign that I'm out and about taking full advantage of the world's greatest city. Tonight it's off to Brooklyn to celebrate the birthday of the one and only Koven J. Smith. Koven, this one's for you...but let me be Phil just once, okay?
It was only a matter of time, really. As a rising star in the world of high fashion, what with my quirky Banana Republic wardrobe---carefully infused with flecks from Mervyns and Kohls---I have finally been awarded fashion's highest honor. This month I appear on the pages of Vogue Magazine along with fellow fashion icons Justin Timberlake and Jessica Biel (Jezebel, as I affectionately call her). I like to think of my style as Jew Chic...a sort of nouveau take on Lagerfeld and Vera Wang, but with a bit more of a retro quality around the ass and waist.
Breaking: Spanish zombies scarier than American zombies.
Have you seen the 2007 Spanish movie [Rec]? Yeah, me neither. Supposedly it's a great horror film, though---95% on Rotten Tomatoes---and it spawned an American remake last year...Quarantine. Did you see Quarantine? Starring the girl who plays Dexter's sister on the Showtime series Dexter? The girl who ended up marrying the actor who plays Dexter in real life? Yeah, me neither. BUT---I did just see the teaser trailer for [Rec 2], and it looks...well, take a look for yourself.
It has a video game feel to it, much like a 1st person shooter, but that's not a bad thing for a zombie flick. Plus it's in a foreign language. Foreign language = extra scary.
No release date yet, but I'll keep you posted. In the meantime, [Rec] goes straight to the top of the DVD queue.
I trust (hope?) many of you are paying attention to the ongoing events in the aftermath of the Iranian election. If not, or if you don't really give a damn about important world events, don't worry, I'll be reviewing John Travolta as a talking dog in "Bolt" in an upcoming post (preview: seven barks).
One of the more complicated issues developing with regards to the contested election is the question of what exactly should the role of the United States be, if any, in dealing with the situation. President Obama finally spoke on the issue a few hours ago, giving a measured and thoughtful response which I think strikes the right notes. I'll embed the video below, but the key points are as follows:
1) The United States and the rest of the world is watching.
2) The United States is not going to mess around in the affairs of Iranians.
3) The United States believes in the right of peaceful demonstration.
4) The United States accepts, for now, that the election results will be investigated.
That sounds about right me to me. God knows I love Andrew Sullivan, and he's been working overtime at The Atlantic to cover this election---before, during and after (to his immense credit)---but there's still so much we don't know about what happened (and is still happening) that it's far too premature for any sort of definitive statement. Sullivan is practically championing a full-blown revolution on his blog. Indeed, even all of The Atlantic has changed their color in solidarity. Sullivan, however, is a blogger. He can tilt away all he wants. He recognizes this difference which is why he's agreed with the President's actions (inaction?) so far. The truth is, even if the election results are corrupt, as seems likely, American intervention would be widely viewed by the Arab world as a further extension of the policies of George W. Bush---a father knows best form of paternalism that may have its heart in the right place, but its head firmly stuck up its ass.
And what exactly would those advocating a different response suggest we do? Bill Kristol had a telling post at The Weekly Standard today. Ostensibly he's playing the role of "good guy" by urging his fellow Republicans to not root for Obama to fail on this oh-so-important foreign policy matter:
"The United States may be able to play an important role. The task now is to explain what the Obama administration (and Congress) should be saying and doing, and to urge them to do what they should be doing. Presuming ahead of time that Obama will fail to exercise leadership, and cataloguing this episode pre-emptively as another in a list of Obama failures, would be a mistake."
Even taking Kristol's words at face value, and I somewhat do, not ONCE in his entire blog does he suggest WHAT it is that Obama should be "saying and doing," arguably the only time Kristol has not had an absolute position on what should be done. He continues:
"We should hope Obama does the right thing, and urge and pressure him to do so--because then the United States will be doing the right thing, and the United States, and the world, will benefit."
Kristol strings these words together as though it's some great revelation...as though wanting our President to succeed is a new and ingenious way of helping our country. Hmm...so if we help our President to do good things...and then good things happen...this is good for us! Brilliant! But more to the point, WHAT IS THE RIGHT THING TO DO? He doesn't say. He doesn't care to say. It's easier to say "do the right thing" and then co-opt success when the right thing is done than to offer an opinion which could be wrong. After all, if the right thing isn't done, then it's just another foreign policy failure by Obama. If Obama succeeds, Kristol is the reasonable Republican who told other Republicans to help. If Obama fails, it's because he didn't listen to Republicans (even if he did, of course).
Perhaps Kristol's response to Obama's mini-speech will clarify his own position, and I certainly am anxious to hear it, but if it's for Obama to come out with authority and condemn the Iranian election as a total fraud, then Kristol will be wrong. Quite frankly, it's everyone's job BUT the President's to call the Iranian election a fraud. The President has to act a little less like a cowboy and a little more like a reasonable diplomat. Plus, let us not forget that our own country had an election eight years ago which is widely viewed overseas (and still by many here) as being a fraudulent result.
What's the expression about stones and glass houses?
And finally we arrive at the end of this long, drawn out countdown. Sorry it took so long to get here, but I'm big on delayed gratification. So, without further adieu...
#1 Friday Night Lights (2006)
There was never any doubt this would top the list---none whatsoever. The pilot for Friday Night Lights, directed by Peter Berg, is simply the pinnacle of great television. From the beyond perfect musical score by Explosions in the Sky, to various shots of the spare environment of west Texas, to a hand-held documentary-style production, one instantly becomes aware that this is not some run of the mill football show. It is a football show, and that's certainly an entertaining aspect of it, but it's not about football. The 2004 movie, also directed by Berg, was a solid adaptation of the book by H.G. Bissinger called "Friday Night Lights: A Town, a Team and a Dream." The key element the movie neglected, however, was the town. While the movie is much more of a "football" movie, Friday Night Lights the television show is much more about community, family and the shared experiences of both. The medium of serialized television serves these themes far better than a time-limited movie could ever do. Berg, second cousin of Bissinger, had desperately wanted to return to the material to do it justice. It's safe to say the only injustice now is that so many people have not seen the pilot.
About the pilot, The New York Times raved, "Lord, is “Friday Night Lights” good. In fact, if the season is anything like the pilot, this new drama about high school football could be great — and not just television great, but great in the way of a poem or painting." Tom Shales at The Washington Post called the pilot, "Extraordinary in just about every conceivable way." The San Francisco Chronicle said, "Friday Night Lights" is not good. It's great. Not to put too fine a point on it, but "Friday Night Lights" manages to be everything you don't expect it to be -- a finely nuanced drama instead of "Beverly Hills 90210," a portrait of small town life instead of a cheesy back-lot fantasy, and even a sports story with real authenticity, from the preparation to the game action." The critical raves are well deserved and seemingly endless, but it's that last point about defied expectations that's the most important. Friday Night Lights could very easily have become a Dawson's Creek sort of melodrama and, at times, it drifts into that territory in later seasons. But for purposes of the pilot, and essentially the full first season, FNL is simply better than you can imagine. Cheerleaders with hunky hothead football players? It's just not that simple, I promise.
Special honors go to the performance of Kyle Chandler as head coach Eric Taylor. Finding just the right blend of sweetness and toughness, Coach Taylor is the glue holding together a cast of equally talented performers. Some people's faces convey such earnestness, such empathy, such pain and such love that it's impossible to not feel for them...with them. The final scenes of the pilot are about as moving as anything I've ever seen, and Chandler's face reduces me to tears each and every time I watch. How good is the pilot? Despite having other episodes available to me to watch, I chose to watch the pilot four times before moving on to the second episode. The second episode, as luck would have it, is just as good as the pilot.
And there you have it. The best television pilots of all-time as revered by yours truly. Television is a special medium, one that often doesn't get the credit it so justly deserves. Some mock television as being commercial-driven and vapid, and certainly plenty examples exist to fit that description. But when television is done right, as these ten shows certainly demonstrate, television has the ability to leave film in its dust. Both forms have their limitations, but I'll take a great serialized drama over a great movie any day of the week. You'd be well served to give these pilots a chance.
Hands down he's the best Sesame Street character of all time, and the character on whom much of my adult life has been proudly based. But while Cookie Monster's unerring drive to consume cookies may be the guiding light for cookie consumers, he's far less useful to consumers of art. I hope by now you've all had the opportunity to see "Don't Eat the Pictures," the ridiculously entertaining Sesame Street special which was shot at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in 1983. It's pretty much unmatched for its humor and educational value and it should be required viewing if not for adults, then certainly for young children. Fortunately, 26 years after it first aired, Cookie Monster has learned little.
Exhibit A:
Just watch the first minute and a half of this clip from the 1983 special. Then feel free to rewatch it (as if you'll be able to stop yourself):
Exhibit B:
A tipster of mine pointed me in the direction of this recent appearance of Cookie Monster on The Letter of the Day Game Show. Unfortunately, you need to follow the link to see it. It's not embeddable. Make sure to select the episode for "The Letter P," a really "nice letter."
From Cezanne to Picasso...he just doesn't get it. In a world of constant change, it's good to know Cookie Monster still just wants to eat the damn pictures.
I have an unabashed love for both Guitar Hero and Rock Band...pretty much the greatest innovation in gaming since the innovation of gaming itself. I could wax on forever about the merits of these rhythm games, and perhaps in a separate post one day I will, but for now I'll just say that the ability to download the entire Pixies album "Doolittle" and play each and every track from it is just about the coolest thing ever. If you've ever wanted to play "Hey" but didn't possess the musical aptitude to do so (this guy right here), then Rock Band is the way to go. I'll be doing that in about three, two, one...
I got a call at work today from the father of one of my many frenemies. This particular frenemie is currently in the middle of a five-month-long hike somewhere along the west coast. He's usually out of contact for a week or two at a time, only popping his head up every so often to check with me if the Texas Rangers are still in first place (they are). His father, however, has never called me...not in the 20+ years I've known his son. For that matter, I'm not even sure how he had my work number in the first place! When I was told who was waiting on the phone for me, my only thought was that his son had been eaten by a bear. It made perfect sense at the time.
I admit it---I'm a sucker for stop-action music videos with a romantic bent, but you'd have to be pretty dense to not appreciate the following creation. It's actually a couple's self-designed wedding invitation. I was just planning on doing an Evite for mine. Jesus.
Update #1: The title of the Vampire Weekend song, M79, references the bus I take across the park on most days after work (or most bad weather days, anyway).
Update #2: Upon further review, I have no idea what the fuck this song is about or why it would make for a romantic song. The execution is romantic, but the lyrics...
So go, I know you would not stay It wasn't true, but anyway Racist dreams you should not have
No excuse to be so callous Dress yourself in bleeding madras Charm your way across the Khyber pass
Nothing says "marry me" like calling her a racist bitch.
Excellent point made today by John Cole at his Balloon Juice blog with respect to using "enhanced interrogation techniques" on Scott Roeder, the man who shot and killed abortion doctor George Tiller last week. According to the Washington Post:
"Scott Roeder called The Associated Press from the Sedgwick County jail, where he's being held on charges of first-degree murder and aggravated assault in the shooting of Dr. George Tiller one week ago.
"I know there are many other similar events planned around the country as long as abortion remains legal," Roeder said. When asked by the AP what he meant and if he was referring to another shooting, he refused to elaborate further."
Hmm. So what we have here is a domestic terrorist who claims to have knowledge of impending acts of violence by his cohorts, but he's refusing to cooperate with authorities. Odds are good he's just a fringe lunatic out to create an atmosphere of increased fear and paranoia for abortion doctors (as terrorists tend to do), but his threats can't be ignored, can they? Abortion doctors have been successfully targeted many times before...either through an organized effort or through solitary assassins. This is as close as we can get to the "ticking time bomb" scenario that supporters of torture are so quick to raise as the most significant justification for torture. I'd sure like to hear the absurd excuses they'd use to say this doesn't qualify. What if Roeder was an Arab American who was an extremist on the pro-choice side? What if he had murdered a pro-life advocate and claimed other attacks were planned?
But as Cole says:
"So when do we get to start torturing this guy? And of course, the answer should be “NEVER.” Torture is wrong. Torture is immoral. Torture is evil. Torture is illegal. Torture does more violence to our values than it does to the individual being tortured. Torture is unreliable. Torture is counter-productive- everything someone says after being tortured should be treated as suspect. Just do your job and investigate. No need to become as bad as the criminal."
I'll go from negative respect to zero respect if torture apologists will at least admit that Roeder's case qualifies for their so-called enhanced interrogation techniques.
I've got about a dozen "honorable mentions" that could easily have fit on this list anywhere between #2 and #10, so this second to last selection feels somewhat arbitrary. Nonetheless...
#2 Twin Peaks (1990)
David Lynch is a frustrating talent to say the least. There are times when his work is undeniably brilliant and uncompromising, but then there are other times when you get the feeling that the joke is really on you. Sometimes his stories are so incoherent, so weird, and so challenging that one is left to wonder if even he knows what he's doing. And Lynch's staple---weird people doing weird things---is only interesting and entertaining to a point...a point Lynch often plows right on past. In his canon of mixed results, however, his foray into network television stands out as both one of his most representative and most accessible works to date.
Much like Lost, the pilot for Twin Peaks has a cinematic quality to it which makes it feel much less like watching television and much more like being treated to a free Hollywood movie. The cinematography on Twin Peaks remains some of the best the medium has ever seen, benefiting a great deal from shooting on-location in the pacific northwest. In a nutshell, Twin Peaks looked and felt like nothing we'd ever seen before, and that alone makes it worthy of such a high ranking on this list.
The discovery of a body in the opening scene sets off a serialized mystery which captivated viewers and garnered, at first, high ratings for ABC. "Who Killed Laura Palmer?" is probably the second most memorable television mystery behind "Who Shot J.R.?". I assure you the answer in Twin Peaks is far more interesting. With quirky characters to spare (hello, Log Lady!), creepy and confusing elements (hello, Red Room!), and a dancing dwarf who talks backwards (fuck me), Twin Peaks is a must view. The pilot has had some rights issues and is not readily available, but CBS.com has each and every episode (sans pilot) available on their web site for free. The pilot, in a low-res spliced up form, can be found on YouTube...and I've embedded the first part below.
Last night I attended a limited-run performance of "Found" by The Story Pirates, a collaborative effort that combined the significant talent of a children's improv-style theater group with the quirky and bizarre humor from the discarded items that appear in the magazine Found. Pure genius. While I've been familiar with Found for a few years now, The Story Pirates were a real revelation. Last night's show was heavy on the adult humor, but the bread and butter for The Story Pirates is in bringing to life stories written by young children.
From their web site:
"The Striking Viking Story Pirates adapt and perform stories written by kids as a way of celebrating the words and ideas of young people, to promote literacy as a vital part of early childhood education, and to preserve the spark of youthful creativity often lost in the transition to adulthood.
Founded in 2003, the Pirates' programs have grown to reach tens of thousands of children each year. By focusing on the power of communication and self-expression, SVSP gives children the tools to become confident, literate students, and encourages kids to become more thoughtful and passionate writers and speakers— in and out of school."
Big thumbs up to that. They also have a weekly show which, if I can borrow someone's kid for an afternoon, I think I'll go see live:
"The cornerstone of our company is the Play/Write Program, a series of creative writing and drama workshops that lead to a sketch comedy show acted by adults and comprised entirely of stories written by kids. Described as “Monty Python meets Schoolhouse Rock,” our award winning musical sketch comedy show performs each Saturday at 2pm at the Drama Book Shop."
I leave you with two things. The first is a note from Found, and the second is a music video by The Story Pirates. Enjoy.
James Franco, the weird-looking-yet-women-like-him actor from the Spiderman movies and every Judd Apatow movie ever made, has canceled the commencement address he was to give at UCLA next week. The stated reason for his late cancellation is that it conflicts with his shooting schedule---but it's far more likely that he jumped ship due to pressure from a group of students who didn't think Franco was an appropriate choice for the esteemed presentation. After all, Franco is only 31 years old and just graduated last year, twelve years after he first enrolled. In short, many consider him to be more of a peer than a role model able to impart the kind of wisdom and advice associated with a commencement address. But worry not, UCLA complainers, your replacement speaker has been secured: Brad Delson, lead guitarist for Linkin Park, will now assume the role.
I don't think this is what the UCLA students had in mind.
Nolan Ryan, Hall of Fame pitcher and current team president for the Texas Rangers, has another accomplishment which he doesn't often talk about. Oh, sure, he's the career leader in no-hitters (7) and strikeouts (5,714), but he's also somewhat of a soap star. Back in 1975 he got himself a guest spot on the daytime soap Ryan's Hope (can you guess what the connection might be?) playing opposite Captain Janeway from Star Trek: Voyager. It's a hilarious scene if you know anything about Nolan Ryan whatsoever. Ryan was the very definition of a rube back then, which makes this scene oddly endearing. He's so damn polite.
Congratulations to IP# 160.79.184---you're the 5,000th visitor to Boy Hates Girl! The milestone hit at 12:19pm today and, although I don't know who you are, I know you're from New York and I know you're a regular reader of the blog. Thank you! If you come forward and identify yourself, you will receive an official Boy Hates Girl t-shirt. Just come by my apartment in Washington Heights to rummage through my dresser for something that fits. I'll even sign it. The mock-up to the right is what an official official T-shirt would look like. We expect to roll those off the assembly line in 2011.
I started BHG on September 30, 2008, just a little over eight months ago. It's been a fun project and I appreciate all the positive feedback I've gotten from both friends and strangers. It's a struggle to keep it updated with any kind of regularity, let alone carve out and maintain some sort of unique identity, but it's a fun project and I thank my small (but loyal) audience.
"On May 21, a judge of the U.S. District Court for the Eastern District of California dismissed a complaint filed by a woman who said she had purchased "Cap'n Crunch with Crunchberries" because she believed "crunchberries" were real fruit. The plaintiff, Janine Sugawara, alleged that she had only recently learned to her dismay that said "berries" were in fact simply brightly-colored cereal balls, and that although the product did contain some strawberry fruit concentrate, it was not otherwise redeemed by fruit. She sued, on behalf of herself and all similarly situated consumers who also apparently believed that there are fields somewhere in our land thronged by crunchberry bushes."
Next you'll tell me that Fruit Loops aren't actually loops of fruit.
"Judge England also noted another federal court had "previously rejected substantially similar claims directed against the packaging of Fruit Loops [sic] cereal, and brought by these same Plaintiff attorneys." He found that their attack on "Crunchberries" should fare no better than their prior claims that "Froot Loops" did not contain real froot."
You son of a bitch.
More importantly, however, there appears to be a law firm which specializes in failed cases to claim damages from cereals who advertise fruit in their name but which contain no actual fruit. This is as narrow a legal specialty as I've ever heard. I suppose they may next branch out and sue AngelSoft toilet paper for not containing actual Angel skin.
One week from this Friday the wonderful Josh Ritter will perform live, for free, at SummerStage in Central Park. I've seen Josh perform at least six or seven times over the last ten years and he's one of most charismatic live musicians you'll find. The last time I saw him was a little over a year ago here at The Metropolitan Museum of Art in an inspired joint performance with violinist Hilary Hahn. You can hear the entire show at NPR right here. This time he's upping the ante on unusual pairings by teaming up with The New York Pops. The show is from 8pm to 10pm and I will most definitely be there. If you'd like to join me, let me know.
In the meantime, here's a great video of Ritter performing "To The Dogs Or Whoever" on David Letterman. Ritter's style is hard to pin down, especially from album to album, but he's got the spirit of a young Bruce Springsteen coursing through his veins and that's definitely on display here. Enjoy!
Here's the very odd pitching line for Detroit's Dontrelle Willis against the Boston Red Sox this afternoon:
2.1 IP 0 H 5 ER 5 BB 3 K
It's not often, if ever, that you'll see someone pitch 2 1/3 innings of hitless baseball and still manage to give up five earned runs. Not sure I've ever seen a line quite like it.
CONCORD, N.H. – New Hampshire legislators approved a measure Wednesday that would make the state the sixth to allow gay marriage, and Gov. John Lynch said he would sign it later in the afternoon.
The Senate passed the measure Wednesday, and the House — where the outcome was more in doubt — followed later in the day. The House gallery erupted in cheers after the 198-176 vote.
The prospects for Gay Marriage passing in New York, however, are bleaker.
Courtesy of Brian from Posthip, I give you The Obameter, a handy reference for checking in on the many, many campaign positions, pledges and promises made by Barack Obama before taking office. I'm not thrilled with their casual use of the word "promise," as I believe that implies a heightened level of certainty and definitiveness which is not contained in the more flexible "platform position," but it's still a well-researched website from Politifact.
The first thing you'll notice about the 2-hour pilot for Lost is how intensely cinematic it feels. Co-creator J.J. Abrams, most recently the genius behind the relaunch of the Star Trek franchise (review forthcoming), immediately thrusts the audience into the action with a thrilling sequence filmed on-location in Hawaii. It looks every bit as good as a feature film...and it should. With a rumored budget somewhere between $10 and $14 million, it's the most expensive pilot in television history. It's also money well spent.
The pilot for Lost is one of those episodes where you actively want to show it to other people simply because you know it would be impossible for them to not get hooked. There's a certain pleasure in the shared experience of addiction, and an even greater pleasure in being the pusher. The #1 show on this countdown, due to be revealed in about a week or two, is the single best example of this phenomenon I can offer, but Lost is a close second in that category. I've seen the pilot at least five times now, each time drawing in a new and unsuspecting victim. Quite frankly, I'm sure I'll be seeing it a few more times before the end of my life.
Unless you've been living in a cave (or on a beach, or in a hatch, or on a sub, or in the past, or in the future), the story of Lost is fairly well known by now. A plane crashes into the ocean---a terrifying sequence shown in the pilot---and then the motley group of survivors slowly realize the "uninhabited" island they've washed up on is not your usual island. I'll spare the spoilers, but I will say for those who have not seen Lost that there are several "what the fuck?" moments in the pilot which gave me chills. Principally, the pilot works on three storytelling levels. It works as a Castaway-type drama as our protagonists struggle to deal with the aftermath of the plane crash; it works as a sci-fi mystery as pieces to the puzzle that is the island are slowly revealed in just the right measure; and it works, above all else, as a human drama.
If there's one thing J.J. Abrams does best, it's elevate a fairly standard idea to excellence by simply caring enough to care about his characters. In everything Abrams does, including Mission Impossible III, he takes great care to infuse authentic human emotions into his characters. Sometimes they're Hollywoodized, sure, but it's rare when Abrams isn't successful in moving me over his characters. Action is cool if it looks good and is exciting, but when you genuinely have emotions at stake over the outcome, something which Abrams manages to create, it's an entirely different experience. Over the course of the two-hour pilot we're introduced to each of the main characters via flashback, a narrative device that is maintained in one way or another for the entirety of the series. It works as well as almost any flashback I've seen in either television or film. It's not just some lazy gimmick. It's an integral part of the story.
The pilot itself was nominated for six Emmys, twelve total in its debut season, and the show won six Emmys including Best Directing, Best Casting, Best Score, Best Editing, Best Visual Effects, and Best Drama. If you're not a Lost watcher, it's never too late to start. ABC has every episode online for free---in HD, no less. This upcoming season will be the finale and the show has yet to disappoint.
It appears as though my home computer prematurely died last night. It was only three and a half years old, but I guess my pedantic rants and feeble movie reviews of even feebler movie were too much for its weak CPU to tolerate. I can't really blame it. I deserved it. This development, however, means that I'll be blogging far less in the coming week or two. Stifle your sarcastic sympathy. I'll have a new computer at some point (I guess), but until then I might have to just repost some oldies but goodies from my MySpace blog.
