Two things from behind the camera that have bothered me as of late...
Item #1. AMC's first foray into filmmaking resulted in some boffo ratings for the cabler. IMDB reported yesterday:
In a rare instance of a cable television show beating the broadcast networks in the ratings, Sunday night's telecast of Broken Trail, starring Robert Duvall, wound up as the highest-rated program of the night, drawing 9.8 million viewers. AMC's first part of a two-parter (the second installment aired on Monday), drew more than twice the number of viewers who tuned in to watch Desperate Housewives on ABC (4.5 million). It was the first original film produced for the movie channel -- and produced the biggest ratings in its history.
This, quite frankly, rocks. AMC certainly isn't a channel I head to for serious movie watching anymore - they rarely show stuff in widescreen, but the commercial interruptions are basically the dealbreaker for me. It wasn't always like this; AMC used to be a bitchin' network on which to catch old movies. These days I head for either Turner Classic Movies or the Fox Movie Channel.
That said, it's great news that AMC pulled such mind-bogglingly fantastic numbers right out of the gate and it goes to show the kind of draw well-marketed & produced cable programming can have. Granted, it was reruns most everywhere else, but still...nearly 10 million viewers?!?! Impressive.
Today, IMDB reported the numbers for Night Two:
AMC's telecast of the second part of its Broken Trail miniseries once again drew a huge audience Monday night. The show, starring Robert Duvall, attracted 9.7 million viewers, according to Nielsen Research, down only slightly from 9.8 million on Sunday. Ratings trackers, however, pointed out that some 74 percent of the audience was 50 years old or older, the demographic group that advertisers traditionally snub.
So let me get this straight. Because basically a bunch of old people tuned in, the numbers don't count!?!?!? Because it wasn't largely the coveted 18-49 demographic!?!? A network snagged 10 million people over two nights and it's somehow irrelevant because they don't own iPods!?!?
Good lord. The day the Morgue has even a thousand readers - and if they're all checking in from the grave - you can bet I'm going to seek out an advertiser or two.
Check out Jeanne's review of Broken Trail here and Matt Seitz's review here.
The miniseries/long movie/whatever it is has a DVD release date of Sept. 5th. AMC will play it again, in its entirety, on Thursday, July 6th at 7 PM CST.
Item #2. One of the few summer movies that's on my "Must See" list is Strangers with Candy. While I've never been an obsessive fan of the Comedy Central series the movie's based on - a little Jerri Blank can go a long way - I'd be lying if I said I didn't find the whole concept to be a sick, subversive scream.
Amy Sedaris is a total original and I love watching her on Letterman. But last week Dave had her on the show to promote the movie, and strangely absent from their conversation was the fact that Letterman produced it!!! Yes, Worldwide Pants is the producer of Strangers with Candy and it was never once mentioned, alluded to, or scribbled on one of Dave's notecards. Conflict of interest? Hell yes!
I guess since The Late Show isn't considered journalism, they can get away with that sort of thing, but you'd think it might have come up in conversation somewhere. That old bastard Letterman acted as if he hadn't even seen the damn thing.
I'll still go see the movie, but consider me rubbed somewhat the wrong way.
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Monday, June 26, 2006
Selfish Preservation
My father went under the knife for some major surgery this afternoon. Since he lives several states away, it's impractical to be there with him - although the distance is probably less of a factor than the fact that I’d have had to deal with his wife.
Without going into detail, suffice it to say I’ve very concrete reasons for having cut this person out of my life – I’ve cut her out to the point where it’s now been about four years since I’ve even been in the same room as my dad. I’m happy to talk, deal with or see him so long as she’s not around. He knows this but doesn’t want to acknowledge it, even though I’ve made it very clear in both word and action these are “my” rules; rules which I feel I’ve earned the right to lay down and have respected and understood.
Talking with him late last week, he seemed fairly positive about the surgery, which if you knew him kinda sorta says something - he’s not the most exuberant person I’ve ever known. But upon asking how I might contact him post-surgery, he said he would have her call me.
Very awkward silence on my end of the line and then after a split-second thought, “Ummm, yeah. Sure. I guess. Whatever.” More awkward silence from his end this time. And then some terribly awkward, rushed goodbyes and "I love yous" from both ends. In the aforementioned split-second it occurred to me that I do not have to pick up the phone – all I need do is keep an eye out for a certain area code on the Caller ID and check the messages afterwards.
Which is exactly what happened about an hour ago. Even her voice is like my own personal heebie-jeebie inducing boogeyman. I was fine with the message's content – which detailed his room number and so forth - up until the very end in which she said, “I’ll try back later”.
Why!?!? I’m not going to answer then either. There’s nothing that verbally needs to be exchanged between the two of us. My silence ought to say plenty. Even if, perish the thought, something had gone wrong in surgery, there are other people in his life (like his brother) who can contact me and provide the same information without me having to go through her.
So now you, loyal reader, can judge for yourself whether I’m a world-class prick or just a guy whom early life fucked over enough times that he's been reduced to playing stupid, bullshit high-school games like the one outlined above.
UPDATE: The phone has now rung two more times since the initial message.
Without going into detail, suffice it to say I’ve very concrete reasons for having cut this person out of my life – I’ve cut her out to the point where it’s now been about four years since I’ve even been in the same room as my dad. I’m happy to talk, deal with or see him so long as she’s not around. He knows this but doesn’t want to acknowledge it, even though I’ve made it very clear in both word and action these are “my” rules; rules which I feel I’ve earned the right to lay down and have respected and understood.
Talking with him late last week, he seemed fairly positive about the surgery, which if you knew him kinda sorta says something - he’s not the most exuberant person I’ve ever known. But upon asking how I might contact him post-surgery, he said he would have her call me.
Very awkward silence on my end of the line and then after a split-second thought, “Ummm, yeah. Sure. I guess. Whatever.” More awkward silence from his end this time. And then some terribly awkward, rushed goodbyes and "I love yous" from both ends. In the aforementioned split-second it occurred to me that I do not have to pick up the phone – all I need do is keep an eye out for a certain area code on the Caller ID and check the messages afterwards.
Which is exactly what happened about an hour ago. Even her voice is like my own personal heebie-jeebie inducing boogeyman. I was fine with the message's content – which detailed his room number and so forth - up until the very end in which she said, “I’ll try back later”.
Why!?!? I’m not going to answer then either. There’s nothing that verbally needs to be exchanged between the two of us. My silence ought to say plenty. Even if, perish the thought, something had gone wrong in surgery, there are other people in his life (like his brother) who can contact me and provide the same information without me having to go through her.
So now you, loyal reader, can judge for yourself whether I’m a world-class prick or just a guy whom early life fucked over enough times that he's been reduced to playing stupid, bullshit high-school games like the one outlined above.
UPDATE: The phone has now rung two more times since the initial message.
Saturday, June 24, 2006
Pimping Myself
So, you want to be a screenwriter? Whether you’re a novice or a professional, the new SA Film Forum is for you! It’s educational, informative, and a great networking opportunity. So, don’t miss out. Come be a part of something new and exciting.
The San Antonio Film Commission would like to invite you to the "SA Film Forum," a series of educational and informational forums that will be held monthly at the downtown Central Library, located at 600 Soledad Street.
SA Film Forum: "Screenwriting: Format, Form and Function of the Screenplay"
Tuesday, June 27th, 7:00 PM - 8:30 PM
Central Library, 600 Soledad (in the library’s auditorium, located on the first floor) Parking is available in the library parking garage.
The topic of the second forum, moderated by Primadonna's Nikki Young, is "Screenwriting: Format, Form and Function of the Screenplay" and will feature screenwriters from San Antonio including Vaughn Taylor ("Long Ride Home"), Pete Barnstrom, Kevin Williams ("Sandwich"), Ross Ruediger ("Ravenswan"), TJ Gonzales (NALIP fellow) and Stacy Schoolfield (former reader, Austin Heart of Film Screenwriting Festival).
The San Antonio Film Commission would like to invite you to the "SA Film Forum," a series of educational and informational forums that will be held monthly at the downtown Central Library, located at 600 Soledad Street.
SA Film Forum: "Screenwriting: Format, Form and Function of the Screenplay"
Tuesday, June 27th, 7:00 PM - 8:30 PM
Central Library, 600 Soledad (in the library’s auditorium, located on the first floor) Parking is available in the library parking garage.
The topic of the second forum, moderated by Primadonna's Nikki Young, is "Screenwriting: Format, Form and Function of the Screenplay" and will feature screenwriters from San Antonio including Vaughn Taylor ("Long Ride Home"), Pete Barnstrom, Kevin Williams ("Sandwich"), Ross Ruediger ("Ravenswan"), TJ Gonzales (NALIP fellow) and Stacy Schoolfield (former reader, Austin Heart of Film Screenwriting Festival).
Friday, June 23, 2006
Pimping Ricky
The Morgue has talked up the uber-coolness of Rick Reynolds and his temple, The Church of Rick, in the past. The Church has recently morphed into something a little different that he's calling "The Happiness Project". Unless he's a total charlatan, he's been working hard on this and providing his readers with daily updates. I hope this works for Rick, but he still seems bummed much of the time.
He's currently having a cash flow problem, so maybe you can help him out by purchasing one or both DVDs of his one-man shows that are available through the site (1 for $15 or both for $25). While I do not know if this will put money in his pocket - I haven't discussed the matter with him - I can only assume that it will. Before you think I'd recommend the parting of hard earned cash soley to help someone out, think again.
I caught his first special Only the Truth is Funny on Showtime back in the early '90s. It repeated a few nights later so I taped it, and over the years that tape wore down to the point where Rick could easily have been mistaken for Kevin Spacey. Earlier this year I won an even crappier VHS screener copy on eBay to replace the old fuzzy copy which I loaned to someone whom I don't think ever got around to watching it, hence it never made its way back into my hands. (Maybe they did put the tape on and thought it was a rare rehearsal copy of American Beauty?) I myself haven't exactly been basking in moolah as of late, but I plan to order both shows within the next month.
I don't know the right way to explain my love for Only the Truth is Funny, other than how I did above in saying it's something I'm able to return to time and again over the years and never tire of viewing. (Click here to check out some IMDB user comments.) Even though Rick's life appears to have changed considerably since that show, it remains a timeless monologue that everyone with working gray matter should experience. It's both screamingly hilarious and gut-wrenchingly poignant in its honesty. You'll definitely laugh, it's possible you might even cry, but mostly you'll come away from it thinking "I'm so glad that guy doesn't live next door to me".
He's currently having a cash flow problem, so maybe you can help him out by purchasing one or both DVDs of his one-man shows that are available through the site (1 for $15 or both for $25). While I do not know if this will put money in his pocket - I haven't discussed the matter with him - I can only assume that it will. Before you think I'd recommend the parting of hard earned cash soley to help someone out, think again.
I caught his first special Only the Truth is Funny on Showtime back in the early '90s. It repeated a few nights later so I taped it, and over the years that tape wore down to the point where Rick could easily have been mistaken for Kevin Spacey. Earlier this year I won an even crappier VHS screener copy on eBay to replace the old fuzzy copy which I loaned to someone whom I don't think ever got around to watching it, hence it never made its way back into my hands. (Maybe they did put the tape on and thought it was a rare rehearsal copy of American Beauty?) I myself haven't exactly been basking in moolah as of late, but I plan to order both shows within the next month.
I don't know the right way to explain my love for Only the Truth is Funny, other than how I did above in saying it's something I'm able to return to time and again over the years and never tire of viewing. (Click here to check out some IMDB user comments.) Even though Rick's life appears to have changed considerably since that show, it remains a timeless monologue that everyone with working gray matter should experience. It's both screamingly hilarious and gut-wrenchingly poignant in its honesty. You'll definitely laugh, it's possible you might even cry, but mostly you'll come away from it thinking "I'm so glad that guy doesn't live next door to me".
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Underrated Flix Intoxicate
Head over to Mr. Middlebrow's casa, A Drinking Song, and check out his collected handiwork of "125 films that deserve a second look".
As I said in his talkback, this is a great list of stuff for anyone looking to avoid the multiplex crap or the "New Release" section of your video store this summer (or indeed any time of the year).
As I said in his talkback, this is a great list of stuff for anyone looking to avoid the multiplex crap or the "New Release" section of your video store this summer (or indeed any time of the year).
Dusty
It is filthy here!
Cobwebs, corpses, and copious amounts of empty caskets[1].
Perhaps this will change later today?
We'll see.
(Or rather you'll see - it won't be a huge surprise for me one way or the other...)
[1] Maybe I should move the corpses into the caskets?
Cobwebs, corpses, and copious amounts of empty caskets[1].
Perhaps this will change later today?
We'll see.
(Or rather you'll see - it won't be a huge surprise for me one way or the other...)
[1] Maybe I should move the corpses into the caskets?
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Post-Parting Depression?
These two vids might help!
The Doctor Who Children in Need Special was created and broadcast for charity last November. It's highly unlikely it'll ever be broadcast on Sci Fi [1] (however I imagine it'll make its way onto the eventual Season 2 DVD box set).
Basically it's a 7 minute bridge sequence - set soley in the TARDIS - that connects "The Parting of the Ways" and "The Christmas Invasion". It's a noteworthy piece as it's somewhat imperative to the storyline: The two stories don't dramatically connect without it, especially in regard to the Doctor's behavior from one to the other, not to mention that when TCI begins, Barcelona is no longer in the cards. All of this is explained in the special.
It's here on YouTube - check it out. Might be gone tomorrow.
And here's a funny little sketch from the Brit show Dead Ringers, which explains the truth behind Christopher Eccleston's decision to leave Doctor Who:
Now I'm taking some time off from the Morgue - no new articles for this week. Take care, folks!
[1] It does seem to me, however, that an edit of the CIN Special (7 min.) and "The Christmas Invasion" (60 min.) together could be made that would snugly fit into a 90 min. Sci Fi programming block. As is, the 60-minute X-mas special is going to be an awkward fit for them.
The Doctor Who Children in Need Special was created and broadcast for charity last November. It's highly unlikely it'll ever be broadcast on Sci Fi [1] (however I imagine it'll make its way onto the eventual Season 2 DVD box set).
Basically it's a 7 minute bridge sequence - set soley in the TARDIS - that connects "The Parting of the Ways" and "The Christmas Invasion". It's a noteworthy piece as it's somewhat imperative to the storyline: The two stories don't dramatically connect without it, especially in regard to the Doctor's behavior from one to the other, not to mention that when TCI begins, Barcelona is no longer in the cards. All of this is explained in the special.
It's here on YouTube - check it out. Might be gone tomorrow.
And here's a funny little sketch from the Brit show Dead Ringers, which explains the truth behind Christopher Eccleston's decision to leave Doctor Who:
Now I'm taking some time off from the Morgue - no new articles for this week. Take care, folks!
[1] It does seem to me, however, that an edit of the CIN Special (7 min.) and "The Christmas Invasion" (60 min.) together could be made that would snugly fit into a 90 min. Sci Fi programming block. As is, the 60-minute X-mas special is going to be an awkward fit for them.
Friday, June 09, 2006
Exit Stage So Very Right
The Doctor: You know what they call me in the ancient legends of the Dalek homeworld? The Oncoming Storm.
Surely there isn’t a wasted minute in “The Parting of the Ways”, Christopher Eccleston’s final stand as Doctor Who. Nor are there any missed opportunities at exploring the full range of emotions the season has been building toward. Action, suspense and Daleks? Yup, it’s all there. Maybe most remarkable is how all of these aspects gel together flawlessly.
The Doctor: That’s right! I sang a song and the Daleks ran away!
The sheer number of Daleks on display, and the sequences in space with the Dalek army swarming on Earth and the Game Station, are a fanboy’s wet dream. The last time this many Daleks were seen at once on Doctor Who was in the Patrick Troughton era, but that was in the 60s and they were a bunch of toy models, shot on a tiny set.
That story, “The Evil of the Daleks”, seems to be the direct inspiration for much of “The Parting”: It was the first and only appearance of the Emperor Dalek, who reappears here, and it also concerned the Daleks being corrupted by the “human factor” - that concept is given a fresh spin by Russell T Davies. Unfortunately, “Evil” is one of the classic stories that was scrapped by the BBC – only episode two still exists. I saw it for the first time recently when the “Lost in Time” DVD set was released and found it a heartbreaking viewing because it was outstanding 60s Who and yet I know I’ll likely never get to see the other six episodes that comprise the story.
Rose: That’s how good the Doctor is!
The Dalek factor aside, the highlights of the episode begin with the Doctor tricking Rose into going back to her time period on Earth. The hologram scene that follows is pure, magical magnificence. A shimmering image of the Doctor turns, looks directly at Rose and says, “Have a good life. Do that for me, Rose - have a fantastic life.” This goosebump-inducing moment must rank in the Top Five moments in the whole of Doctor Who. Rose’s reaction to realizing what he’s done to (for?) her – “You can’t do this to me. You can’t! Take me back…take me back!!” – reduces me to tears. Her subsequent scenes back in her own time with Jackie and Mickey pack equally strong punches - most notably when the trio sit in the café and Rose gives the “He showed me a better way of living your life” speech, and then later on in the TARDIS when Rose reveals to Jackie that she met her father and was with him when he died.
The Emperor Dalek: Then prove yourself, Doctor. What are you - coward or killer?
When the Doctor builds the Delta Wave, a device that will kill all life in its path, and it comes down to fuck or walk…he chooses to walk. This is certainly a noteworthy decision, as the events that add up to a saved day were outside his sphere of knowledge. He was willing to sacrifice humanity to the Daleks rather than destroy everything outright. It was a choice he'd made once before – and it led to him mistakenly believing he'd ended the Time War. It was a choice/mistake he wasn’t prepared to make a second time. Godlike though the Doctor may often appear, it’s a bizarre twist that brings his best friend to him, in a form that itself is godlike in both appearance and ability.
Rose: I looked into the TARDIS and the TARDIS looked into me…I am the Bad Wolf. I create myself.
Deus Ex Machina? Perhaps. Perhaps the Bad Wolf revelation is even the ultimate execution of the phrase. Does Rose’s “absorption of the time vortex” or her “looking into the heart of the TARDIS” make any sense? It does if you buy into a mythology that’s clearly a creation of the fantastic and you don’t dissect it too much. There’s something about the operatic way the whole thing is handled that makes any possible lack of logic ultimately forgivable.
One thing I’ve always wondered - did Rose bring everyone on the Game Station back to life, or just Captain Jack? It’s hard to believe she was feeling selective at the moment, and yet it’s equally difficult to believe she’d have brought Lynda with a Y back to life. (Catfight & ~snicker~!!!) Speaking of Jack, his goodbye kissing of both Rose and the Doctor near the beginning of the story, and his feeling that he was "much better off as a coward” is a beautifully executed moment. Back when I wrote an entire entry on Jack, this scene was hugely influential in my overall opinion of his character.
The Doctor: Before I go, I just want to tell you…you were fantastic. Absolutely fantastic! And do you know what? So was I.
Regeneration. What can be said? Most notably – in the history of the series – this is the first time the Doctor has regenerated standing up. Usually he’s laying on the ground, next to death. I think I read somewhere that Davies very much wanted to do the first “vertical” regeneration. Well, he did and afterwards you got your first look at the 10th Doctor – David Tennant.
The Doctor: New teeth. That's weird. So where was I? Oh, that's right - Barcelona!
Surely there isn’t a wasted minute in “The Parting of the Ways”, Christopher Eccleston’s final stand as Doctor Who. Nor are there any missed opportunities at exploring the full range of emotions the season has been building toward. Action, suspense and Daleks? Yup, it’s all there. Maybe most remarkable is how all of these aspects gel together flawlessly.
The Doctor: That’s right! I sang a song and the Daleks ran away!
The sheer number of Daleks on display, and the sequences in space with the Dalek army swarming on Earth and the Game Station, are a fanboy’s wet dream. The last time this many Daleks were seen at once on Doctor Who was in the Patrick Troughton era, but that was in the 60s and they were a bunch of toy models, shot on a tiny set.
That story, “The Evil of the Daleks”, seems to be the direct inspiration for much of “The Parting”: It was the first and only appearance of the Emperor Dalek, who reappears here, and it also concerned the Daleks being corrupted by the “human factor” - that concept is given a fresh spin by Russell T Davies. Unfortunately, “Evil” is one of the classic stories that was scrapped by the BBC – only episode two still exists. I saw it for the first time recently when the “Lost in Time” DVD set was released and found it a heartbreaking viewing because it was outstanding 60s Who and yet I know I’ll likely never get to see the other six episodes that comprise the story.
Rose: That’s how good the Doctor is!
The Dalek factor aside, the highlights of the episode begin with the Doctor tricking Rose into going back to her time period on Earth. The hologram scene that follows is pure, magical magnificence. A shimmering image of the Doctor turns, looks directly at Rose and says, “Have a good life. Do that for me, Rose - have a fantastic life.” This goosebump-inducing moment must rank in the Top Five moments in the whole of Doctor Who. Rose’s reaction to realizing what he’s done to (for?) her – “You can’t do this to me. You can’t! Take me back…take me back!!” – reduces me to tears. Her subsequent scenes back in her own time with Jackie and Mickey pack equally strong punches - most notably when the trio sit in the café and Rose gives the “He showed me a better way of living your life” speech, and then later on in the TARDIS when Rose reveals to Jackie that she met her father and was with him when he died.
The Emperor Dalek: Then prove yourself, Doctor. What are you - coward or killer?
When the Doctor builds the Delta Wave, a device that will kill all life in its path, and it comes down to fuck or walk…he chooses to walk. This is certainly a noteworthy decision, as the events that add up to a saved day were outside his sphere of knowledge. He was willing to sacrifice humanity to the Daleks rather than destroy everything outright. It was a choice he'd made once before – and it led to him mistakenly believing he'd ended the Time War. It was a choice/mistake he wasn’t prepared to make a second time. Godlike though the Doctor may often appear, it’s a bizarre twist that brings his best friend to him, in a form that itself is godlike in both appearance and ability.
Rose: I looked into the TARDIS and the TARDIS looked into me…I am the Bad Wolf. I create myself.
Deus Ex Machina? Perhaps. Perhaps the Bad Wolf revelation is even the ultimate execution of the phrase. Does Rose’s “absorption of the time vortex” or her “looking into the heart of the TARDIS” make any sense? It does if you buy into a mythology that’s clearly a creation of the fantastic and you don’t dissect it too much. There’s something about the operatic way the whole thing is handled that makes any possible lack of logic ultimately forgivable.
One thing I’ve always wondered - did Rose bring everyone on the Game Station back to life, or just Captain Jack? It’s hard to believe she was feeling selective at the moment, and yet it’s equally difficult to believe she’d have brought Lynda with a Y back to life. (Catfight & ~snicker~!!!) Speaking of Jack, his goodbye kissing of both Rose and the Doctor near the beginning of the story, and his feeling that he was "much better off as a coward” is a beautifully executed moment. Back when I wrote an entire entry on Jack, this scene was hugely influential in my overall opinion of his character.
The Doctor: Before I go, I just want to tell you…you were fantastic. Absolutely fantastic! And do you know what? So was I.
Regeneration. What can be said? Most notably – in the history of the series – this is the first time the Doctor has regenerated standing up. Usually he’s laying on the ground, next to death. I think I read somewhere that Davies very much wanted to do the first “vertical” regeneration. Well, he did and afterwards you got your first look at the 10th Doctor – David Tennant.
The Doctor: New teeth. That's weird. So where was I? Oh, that's right - Barcelona!
Monday, June 05, 2006
Girl, You'll Be a Woman...Soon
Enter Bree Osbourne (Felicity Huffman), the central character of Transamerica, who reminded me why I came up with the theory in the first place. Just when it seemed as though every variation on the theme had been exhausted, along comes a little movie like this which proves there are still remarkable stories to tell involving these sorts of people.
Bree used to be Stanley and now is on the verge of having the big operation. She’s unlike other filmic transgendered characters in that she doesn’t frequent the club scene, listen to disco, sleep around, take drugs or compete in drag competitions. Her closest friend is her therapist and she works part time at a Mexican restaurant and part time from home as a telemarketer, and her life isn’t much more exciting than that. Until one day she gets a call from a son, Toby (Kevin Zegers), whom she didn’t even know existed.
Through a mildly convoluted series of events, she’s forced to leave L.A. and go to New York to bail him out of jail for prostitution. Not only does she not tell him upfront that she’s his father, but she also fails to tell him that she’s a transsexual. It’s a credit to Huffman’s performance that it doesn’t occur to Toby that something’s a little “off” about her and the viewer doesn’t question it either. (Of course, maybe that’s the genius of casting a woman in the role in the first place.) It's also noteworthy that Toby is presented as the far more troubled of the two - in the "fucked up" department, Bree's pretty normal next to her son.
The pair set off on a road trip back to L.A. The journey is predictable only in that they learn an awful lot about themselves and one another along the way. The movie plays as a drama, but with some peculiar, dark comedic bits peppered throughout. Much of the background music consists of country tunes, which made me think that country artists have come a long way over the years – and there is nary a k.d. lang song to be heard.
Huffman first blew me away a couple years ago in the short-lived Showtime series Out of Order. Compared to Lynette on Desperate Housewives (for which she received an Emmy), her portrayal of Order’s Lorna is sorta like comparing Orson Welles’ Charles Foster Kane to his wine commercials – he does both like no one else could, and yet it’s still all about the material.
Huffman’s as good as she possibly could be on Housewives, given what she has to work with. Transamerica, on the other hand, is serious acting. I wasn’t sure what to think when the movie began, but by the second or third scene, she sold me. It’s somewhat reminiscent of Julie Andrews in Victor/Victoria – a woman playing a man playing a woman, although the comparison ends there. It was a brave role for her to take; the shape of Huffman’s face is indeed somewhat masculine, and a less humble actress might even have been insulted by the offer of the role. Yet I think of some of the other great character actresses working today, like Laura Linney or Joan Allen, and while they possess the acting chops, I don’t believe they have the physical features it takes to pull off this role.
There’s a lengthy section of the third act that takes place in Phoenix, where Bree’s parents and sister live. It begins as you might expect, but manages to go into areas I didn’t see coming. The first scene with her mother reminded me of the brief scene with Patrick Swayze’s mother in To Wong Foo – and maybe what happens in this movie is what would have happened in that film if his mother hadn’t closed and locked the door upon seeing her son wearing a dress.
Friday, June 02, 2006
Bad Wolf (Part Two)
This may be the toughest Doctor Who entry I’ve yet to attempt.
What is there to write about? The skewering of reality TV? I already kinda did that this week in the Coyote Ugly entry. The three series (Big Brother, The Weakest Link & What Not to Wear) our trio of time travelers are each dropped into are sent up with equal amounts of affection and ridicule. That the hosts of each series (Davina McCall, Anne Robinson and Trinny Woodall & Susannah Constantine, respectively) agreed to join in the fun by providing their vocal talents is an indication, I guess, that the whole thing is played for laughs more than as a serious condemnation of reality TV. Or maybe it goes to show the kind of respect the Doctor commands over in the UK - actors, celebrities and presenters are all eager to be on the show and work for Russ Davies & Co.
Mostly “Bad Wolf” is a vague indictment of the Doctor’s haphazard, devil-may-care lifestyle, as was pointed out to him by Margaret in “Boom Town”. Upon his exit from Satellite V at the end of “The Long Game”, his attitude was as if his work there was finished and humanity could & would take care of itself. As the events of “Bad Wolf” reveal, this wasn’t the case – humanity was so frail, and had for so long been unable to think for itself, that it fell deeper into a cheap lifestyle which allowed a force greater and more insidious than the Mighty Jagrafess to take control. (There may be some very subtle themes at work here – stuff I’m realizing even as I type – for which I previously failed to give the episode credit.)
It’s also the first half of a two-parter, and a peculiar first half at that. This is a case of the buildup having little to do with the events of the finale. The two episodes almost exist independent of each other, married only by the characters, the location, and the final five minutes of the episode. Don’t expect any more reality TV jabs next week (well maybe one…), because it's going to be all about…
DALEKS! You silly Daleks. Oh you goofy little Daleks. If you’re new to Who, then the lone Dalek from earlier in the season ended up a bit of a wimp compared to what we get next week. These are the real, badass, mutha' fuckin' snakes-on-a-space station deal. You'll get no tentacles-reaching-for-sunlight in next week's installment - that I will gleefully toss out as a spoiler.
“Bad Wolf” is not a perfect episode, but it is a fantastic buildup to the season finale. It begins tying together numerous other themes and stories which have been constructed throughout the season, all leading toward next week's operatic big finish. It likely could have done whatever it wanted to do and I’d have forgiven it based on the final moments alone, which are some damn fine Chris Eccleston & Dalek-driven Doctor Who:
Dalek: WE HAVE YOUR AS-SO-CI-ATE! YOU WILL O-BEY OR SHE WILL BE EX-TERM-I-NATED!
The Doctor: No.
Dalek: EX-PLAIN YOUR-SELF!
The Doctor: I said no.
Dalek: WHAT IS THE MEA-NING OF THIS NEG-A-TIVE?
The Doctor: It means “no”.
Dalek: BUT SHE WILL BE DE-STROYED!
The Doctor: No! ‘Cause this is what I’m gonna do: I’m gonna rescue her. I’m gonna save Rose Tyler from the middle of the Dalek fleet. And then I’m gonna save the Earth and then – just to finish off – I’m gonna wipe every last STINKING Dalek out of the sky!!!!
Dalek: BUT YOU HAVE NO WEA-PONS! NO DE-FEN-SES!! NO PLAN!!!
The Doctor: Yeah! And doesn’t that scare you to death? (beat) Rose?
Rose: Yes, Doctor?
The Doctor: I’m coming to get you.
What is there to write about? The skewering of reality TV? I already kinda did that this week in the Coyote Ugly entry. The three series (Big Brother, The Weakest Link & What Not to Wear) our trio of time travelers are each dropped into are sent up with equal amounts of affection and ridicule. That the hosts of each series (Davina McCall, Anne Robinson and Trinny Woodall & Susannah Constantine, respectively) agreed to join in the fun by providing their vocal talents is an indication, I guess, that the whole thing is played for laughs more than as a serious condemnation of reality TV. Or maybe it goes to show the kind of respect the Doctor commands over in the UK - actors, celebrities and presenters are all eager to be on the show and work for Russ Davies & Co.
Mostly “Bad Wolf” is a vague indictment of the Doctor’s haphazard, devil-may-care lifestyle, as was pointed out to him by Margaret in “Boom Town”. Upon his exit from Satellite V at the end of “The Long Game”, his attitude was as if his work there was finished and humanity could & would take care of itself. As the events of “Bad Wolf” reveal, this wasn’t the case – humanity was so frail, and had for so long been unable to think for itself, that it fell deeper into a cheap lifestyle which allowed a force greater and more insidious than the Mighty Jagrafess to take control. (There may be some very subtle themes at work here – stuff I’m realizing even as I type – for which I previously failed to give the episode credit.)
It’s also the first half of a two-parter, and a peculiar first half at that. This is a case of the buildup having little to do with the events of the finale. The two episodes almost exist independent of each other, married only by the characters, the location, and the final five minutes of the episode. Don’t expect any more reality TV jabs next week (well maybe one…), because it's going to be all about…
DALEKS! You silly Daleks. Oh you goofy little Daleks. If you’re new to Who, then the lone Dalek from earlier in the season ended up a bit of a wimp compared to what we get next week. These are the real, badass, mutha' fuckin' snakes-on-a-space station deal. You'll get no tentacles-reaching-for-sunlight in next week's installment - that I will gleefully toss out as a spoiler.
“Bad Wolf” is not a perfect episode, but it is a fantastic buildup to the season finale. It begins tying together numerous other themes and stories which have been constructed throughout the season, all leading toward next week's operatic big finish. It likely could have done whatever it wanted to do and I’d have forgiven it based on the final moments alone, which are some damn fine Chris Eccleston & Dalek-driven Doctor Who:
Dalek: WE HAVE YOUR AS-SO-CI-ATE! YOU WILL O-BEY OR SHE WILL BE EX-TERM-I-NATED!
The Doctor: No.
Dalek: EX-PLAIN YOUR-SELF!
The Doctor: I said no.
Dalek: WHAT IS THE MEA-NING OF THIS NEG-A-TIVE?
The Doctor: It means “no”.
Dalek: BUT SHE WILL BE DE-STROYED!
The Doctor: No! ‘Cause this is what I’m gonna do: I’m gonna rescue her. I’m gonna save Rose Tyler from the middle of the Dalek fleet. And then I’m gonna save the Earth and then – just to finish off – I’m gonna wipe every last STINKING Dalek out of the sky!!!!
Dalek: BUT YOU HAVE NO WEA-PONS! NO DE-FEN-SES!! NO PLAN!!!
The Doctor: Yeah! And doesn’t that scare you to death? (beat) Rose?
Rose: Yes, Doctor?
The Doctor: I’m coming to get you.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Girl, You'll Be a Woman...Never
A couple days ago CMT was doing a marathon of the program “The Ultimate Coyote Ugly Search”, and I was flipping channels, came across it, and realized the San Antonio episode was playing. So the remote control rested and my brain began the fermentation process.This is what we’ve become, eh? I gotta give credit to Ugly founder Liliana Lovell (pictured). Her true talent - despite what the photo may lead you to believe - is in how she turned bullshit into an empire. Did you know that “being a Coyote is all about making the transition from girl to womanhood”? She tells the hopefuls variations on this theme over and over.
Really, Lil? Here I thought the Coyotes were essentially a bunch of glorified pole-dancers. Not so! This is all about – in the fabled words of Helen Reddy – “I am woman, hear me roar!”
But it’s not…not really. It’s more like “I am slutty, so down this shot and I’ll take your money.” Or “Look at me shake my ass as I slide that twenty out of your wallet.” Could even be “These tits will never be yours but I’ll give you the illusion they could be…if you weren’t a fat, smelly beer-guzzling letch.”
The show purports to give these girls a shot at realizing a dream, when all it really wants to do is dish up the same cheap thrills that any other random reality series is built on. Think “American Idol” only without the pedigree.
But perhaps Lil is woman – hear her roar! She’s taken two of the most easily and oft exploited aspects of American culture – tits & ass – given it her own personal touch, and made a swank killing off the entire affair.
We’re used to men exploiting women. I mean, it’s “ze vay of ze vorld”…but a woman exploiting women? Oh so few have the right plan to pull it off, but Lovell has realized her own dream in doing just that. Her plan is an insidious, vile creature. When men exploit women, they’re not so smart. They just do it and it’s an understood sort of thing: “Hey I get what I want and she gets a little cash and a little fame.”
But Lil’s brand of exploitation is far more dangerous. She convinces women that this is right and proper – that selling stupid guys shots and taking their money is what being a woman is all about. Now I am not a woman, but I've spent plenty of time with women in my lifetime, and I don't believe I know any who aim for this level of unsophistication.
In one scene this little tidbit of wisdom is proffered up: “Don’t get too close [emotionally] to a customer.” Wow! Strippers live by the same code, only they know it intrinsically, as if it's part of their DNA. The Coyote girl must be told this. Either they are very thick or very underestimated; my $20 is going on a combination of both. Do the potential Coyotes believe the philosophies Lil spews? To be real women, I sincerely hope not. Hopefully they see this is all a case of "you scratch my back Lil, and I'll scratch yours". After all, without the Coyotes, there would be no Coyote Ugly and Lil might have to do porn to pay the bills. I would be happy to direct and script that film...talk about intelligent exploitation. Ooooh - now that was ugly.
Lil also is not a particularly nice person. When a girl doesn't cut the muster, she's frequently insulting and rather rude to them. Please - we already have one Simon Cowell and we don't need another. At least take a few lessons from Paula and kill 'em with kindness, lady. Oh dear, I just called Lil a lady which she clearly is not. And thank goodness she's not my wife.
In the midst of all this crap, somebody also says “A real woman wears heels and makeup”, which goes to prove what I’ve always suspected – that RuPaul is indeed a real woman, and so was Divine for that matter.
I only viewed the San Antonio episode, as I didn’t have the stomach for more of the marathon. You, however, can indulge – there’s another marathon tonight, Wednesday, May 31st, starting at 6PM (CST) on CMT, and in fact the S.A. episode (#4) plays at 8PM (CST).
This is recommended only for the cheap thrills, but make sure you’ve got a shovel handy so you can clean up the bullshit that emanates from your TV. You’ll need a small crowbar as well - to pry your jaw from the floor when the end credits roll.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Bad Wolf (Part One)
One aspect of the first season of Doctor Who the Morgue has avoided discussing is the Bad Wolf. Now seems an appropriate time to bring it up, as this week’s episode is entitled “Bad Wolf”. Since “The End of the World”, the phrase “Bad Wolf” has been worked into each story in some way, shape or form. Some have beaten you over the head (“The Unquiet Dead”) while others were barely noticeable (“The Doctor Dances”). Upon the transmission of the first season in the UK, it drove fans batty for 13 weeks. The theories were endless.
One of the more stimulating postulated the Doctor wasn’t the Doctor at all; that he was an imposter using the Doctor’s identity and place in the universe to his own benefit – a bad wolf in sheep’s clothing. The true Doctor would return in the season finale to banish the false Doctor. This idea probably arose from the fact that Chris Eccleston’s impending departure was leaked early on in the season. High concept to be sure - there was a big part of me that wanted this to be true on some level as it would have been such a mind screw.
Here is a list of the Bad Wolves thus far...
1) Ep. 2: "The End of the World":
The Moxx of Balhoon tells the Face of Boe that being trapped on the exploding Platform One is "the classic Bad Wolf scenario..."
2) Ep. 3: "The Unquiet Dead" :
Gwyneth the parlour maid looks into Rose's mind and sees "The Big Bad Wolf".
3) Eps. 4/5: "Aliens of London/World War III":
A child graffiti's "Bad Wolf" onto the side of the TARDIS.
4) Ep. 6: "Dalek":
Eccentric billionaire Henry van Statten’s helicopter has the security call sign "Bad Wolf One".
5) Ep. 7: "The Long Game":
In the year 200,000 there's a TV channel called BadwolfTV.
6) Ep. 8: "Father's Day":
"Bad Wolf" is scrawled across a 1980s club poster.
7) Eps. 9/10: "The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances":
The missile about to land on the Chula spaceship has "Schlechter Wolf" (which roughly translates to Bad Wolf in German) written on it.
8) Ep. 11: "Boom Town":
The nuclear power station about to destroy Cardiff is called "Blaidd Drwg"...a Welsh translation of the phrase.
In “Boomtown”, the Doctor finally picked up on it. Upon seeing the name “The Blaidd Drwg Project” (which, incidentally, would be a fantastic name for a Welsh band…especially if Alan Parsons engineered their albums), something snapped. He processed the info, appeared boggled, and then promptly moved on to the Slitheen business at hand.
As this is the Internets, the solution is out there and you can find it without too much trouble - although the Morgue highly recommends you not do that. Discover the mystery of the Bad Wolf with the rest of the Sci Fi viewing audience.
(To be continued...)
One of the more stimulating postulated the Doctor wasn’t the Doctor at all; that he was an imposter using the Doctor’s identity and place in the universe to his own benefit – a bad wolf in sheep’s clothing. The true Doctor would return in the season finale to banish the false Doctor. This idea probably arose from the fact that Chris Eccleston’s impending departure was leaked early on in the season. High concept to be sure - there was a big part of me that wanted this to be true on some level as it would have been such a mind screw.
Here is a list of the Bad Wolves thus far...
1) Ep. 2: "The End of the World":
The Moxx of Balhoon tells the Face of Boe that being trapped on the exploding Platform One is "the classic Bad Wolf scenario..."
2) Ep. 3: "The Unquiet Dead" :
Gwyneth the parlour maid looks into Rose's mind and sees "The Big Bad Wolf".
3) Eps. 4/5: "Aliens of London/World War III":
A child graffiti's "Bad Wolf" onto the side of the TARDIS.
4) Ep. 6: "Dalek":
Eccentric billionaire Henry van Statten’s helicopter has the security call sign "Bad Wolf One".
5) Ep. 7: "The Long Game":
In the year 200,000 there's a TV channel called BadwolfTV.
6) Ep. 8: "Father's Day":
"Bad Wolf" is scrawled across a 1980s club poster.
7) Eps. 9/10: "The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances":
The missile about to land on the Chula spaceship has "Schlechter Wolf" (which roughly translates to Bad Wolf in German) written on it.
8) Ep. 11: "Boom Town":
The nuclear power station about to destroy Cardiff is called "Blaidd Drwg"...a Welsh translation of the phrase.
In “Boomtown”, the Doctor finally picked up on it. Upon seeing the name “The Blaidd Drwg Project” (which, incidentally, would be a fantastic name for a Welsh band…especially if Alan Parsons engineered their albums), something snapped. He processed the info, appeared boggled, and then promptly moved on to the Slitheen business at hand.
As this is the Internets, the solution is out there and you can find it without too much trouble - although the Morgue highly recommends you not do that. Discover the mystery of the Bad Wolf with the rest of the Sci Fi viewing audience.
(To be continued...)
Monday, May 29, 2006
Junkie Elephant
Animated film is rarely my bag. Many swear by fare such as The Incredibles and Shrek and while I get a certain amount of instant gratification from these films, rarely will I give them a second viewing and certainly owning the DVDs is out of the question. Probably my major gripe is that animation on this level is thought of as something that must primarily appeal to chlidren, in order to justify the amount of money it takes to create this type of stuff.Of course, the main reason these films are successful is because they work on "two" levels. Don't get me wrong - just a few years ago I was going to the movies with Jake to see Finding Nemo - I understand the value of true "family" fare that manages to work for everyone. Jake is now 13 and his interest in this sort of stuff is waning.
Now that I'm free from the shackles of Di$ney & DreamWork$, I want animated fare that works on one level - and that is for adults only.
Enter Free Jimmy, a CGI-animated film from Norway, which ain't for the kiddies (click here and hammer around the film's website). Its tagline is "Four stoners, three gangsters, five vegans, and a million reasons to free one junkie elephant." I am vaguely reminded of Peter Jackson's Muppet movie Meet the Feebles, which amused me so in the youth of my twenties.
From the site:
FREE JIMMY is a burlesque, satiric comedy involving greedy slackers, murderous gangsters, fanatic activists and a junkie circus elephant on the run. It is sex’n’drugs’n’rock’n’roll with aesthetic comic book violence smeared out in slow motion, splattered with blood, vomit and intestines.
Variety just posted a review of Free Jimmy (it premiered at Cannes last week). While it isn't a glowing piece of criticism, it really only served to pique my interest. Assuming we someday get this movie Stateside, this is true opening [mid]night fare.
Ralph Bakshi has been absent for far too long. In order to suffer through another animated incarnation of Mike Myers, I'll have to stick a needle in my arm. I am a junkie elephant in need of a fix. Free Jimmy and bring him to the U.S.!
Friday, May 26, 2006
Cutting Up a Classic
Sci Fi Wire reports on the upcoming DVD & theatrical release strategy for the newest Blade Runner cut.
From the article:
The restored "director's cut" will debut on home video in September and will remain on sale for only four months, after which time it will be placed on moratorium. Blade Runner: Final Cut will arrive in 2007 for a limited 25th-anniversary theatrical run, followed by a special-edition DVD with the three previous versions offered as alternate viewing. Besides the original theatrical version and director's cut, the expanded international theatrical cut will be included. The set will also contain additional bonus materials.
There's no doubt this is all well and good, and it's hard to believe that by the time this "Final Cut" hits, it'll have been 15 years since the "Director's Cut" (whereas there were only ten in between the original '82 release and the D.C. in '92). Mostly this just makes me realize how quickly time is passing by. I want more life.
I once met Gary Lockwood in the hotel bar at a sci-fi con in Chicago. We talked for a loooong time. The conversation was mostly jump-started by me asking him about Kubrick, although the chat eventually turned to film in general.
Lockwood insisted there were only ever two great movies made (in the history of film! What balls this man had!!) and they were 2001 & Blade Runner.
I asked him which cut of Blade Runner he preferred, and his face kind of screwed up, and he said [words to the effect of], "It doesn't matter. It's Blade Runner. Just Blade Runner. You can call it whatever you want to, but I love Blade Runner."
It was a revelation of sorts for me as a Blade Runner fanatic, and I saw in his opinion that it really was splitting hairs to debate the merits of the various cuts.
It will no doubt be fascinating to see what tricks Ridley Scott has up his sleeve for this "Final Cut", however it is indeed difficult to envision him dishing up anything that will enhance my ongoing fascination with the concept itself. I'd still be perfectly happy with only the original 1982 version, sunny ending and all.
Ross: You've done a man's job, sir. I guess you're through, huh?
Ridley: Finished.
Now if I have to type the movie's title or the word "cut" again, I'll insist someone give me a Voight-Kampf test to get to the bottom of this nonsense.
From the article:
The restored "director's cut" will debut on home video in September and will remain on sale for only four months, after which time it will be placed on moratorium. Blade Runner: Final Cut will arrive in 2007 for a limited 25th-anniversary theatrical run, followed by a special-edition DVD with the three previous versions offered as alternate viewing. Besides the original theatrical version and director's cut, the expanded international theatrical cut will be included. The set will also contain additional bonus materials.
There's no doubt this is all well and good, and it's hard to believe that by the time this "Final Cut" hits, it'll have been 15 years since the "Director's Cut" (whereas there were only ten in between the original '82 release and the D.C. in '92). Mostly this just makes me realize how quickly time is passing by. I want more life.
I once met Gary Lockwood in the hotel bar at a sci-fi con in Chicago. We talked for a loooong time. The conversation was mostly jump-started by me asking him about Kubrick, although the chat eventually turned to film in general.
Lockwood insisted there were only ever two great movies made (in the history of film! What balls this man had!!) and they were 2001 & Blade Runner.
I asked him which cut of Blade Runner he preferred, and his face kind of screwed up, and he said [words to the effect of], "It doesn't matter. It's Blade Runner. Just Blade Runner. You can call it whatever you want to, but I love Blade Runner."
It was a revelation of sorts for me as a Blade Runner fanatic, and I saw in his opinion that it really was splitting hairs to debate the merits of the various cuts.
It will no doubt be fascinating to see what tricks Ridley Scott has up his sleeve for this "Final Cut", however it is indeed difficult to envision him dishing up anything that will enhance my ongoing fascination with the concept itself. I'd still be perfectly happy with only the original 1982 version, sunny ending and all.
Ross: You've done a man's job, sir. I guess you're through, huh?
Ridley: Finished.
Now if I have to type the movie's title or the word "cut" again, I'll insist someone give me a Voight-Kampf test to get to the bottom of this nonsense.
Thursday, May 25, 2006
The Last Neighborhood in America
Which artist can lay the bigger claim to the movie Talk Radio? Oliver Stone, who directed and co-wrote it, or Eric Bogosian, who wrote the original play, co-wrote the screenplay and stars in the film?
Maybe neither. Maybe the real artistry of the film was buried with Alan Berg, the Denver talk radio host who was gunned down in his driveway by white supremacists some four years before the movie was made. Berg’s story was later crafted into a book, “Talked to Death: The Life and Murder of Alan Berg”, by Stephen Singular. Since much of that book was conscripted into the film, Singular likely deserves some credit as well.
I’ve been a Talk Radio nut since I first saw it on late night cable when I was in high school, which was the ideal venue in which to view it. The story is told in a way that seeing it at home alone, by accident, in the darkest hours of the eve can only add to the disembodied, hollow radio vibe Stone & Bogosian aimed to emulate.
One thing is for certain – no other combination of talent could’ve created a movie on this subject half this compelling. (Many have tried both before and since.) Take Stone out of the equation and you lose the fluid camera work and the buildup of paranoia & claustrophobia. Take away Bogosian and you lose Barry Champlain and the best goddamn lead for whom you could ask.
For those in the unknown, the movie details the sordid antics of late-night Dallas radio host Barry Champlain (Bogosian). He’s an obnoxious guy, who pokes and prods at his callers with equal amounts of contempt and enjoyment. Eh, maybe not so much the latter – he always seems to be in a pretty bad mood. One night he is killed as he leaves the station to go home. Then the end credits roll.
The movie is everything that happens around the above - the details of the finer points of Champlain’s mundane life. He’s Barry when he’s on the air. When he’s not, he’s as confused and frightened as his callers – so much so that when his show goes national, he begs his ex-wife Ellen (Ellen Greene) to fly to Dallas and “be with him” for the first broadcast. Jeez…what a weenie. Even his boss (an insanely effective Alec Baldwin; a precursor to his Glengarry Glen Ross role) puts him in his place several times. One of Baldwin’s great bits of dialogue: “What you are is a fuckin’ suit salesman with a big mouth!”
The movie reveals much about guys like Howard Stern and Rush Limbaugh. What’s probably most noteworthy is how timely it remains, despite being made 17 years ago. (Someone even had the foresight to keep the topical politics of the day out of the dialogue.) Talk radio hasn’t changed all that much: It’s still a guy, his microphone, his callers & guests, all bandying about tawdry, unsolvable issues for a few hours. It is rare that a movie becomes the definitive take on its subject matter, but Talk Radio achieves the distinction.
Such was my fascination with the film that when given the opportunity to engage in on-air gab myself, I accepted. A talk radio producer once told me that people who call in to talk radio shows are basically stupid – after a year and half on The Chris Duel Show, as Sir Celluloid the movie guru, I heard little that would lead me to believe otherwise. (Note: This opinion is not necessarily shared by Chris Duel, his show, or any employees of KTSA, the station which airs the program.) It is not an easy task to wade through the swamp of bloated ignorance that is talk radio today. Why hosts do not regularly goad their callers to the point of gunning them down in their driveways mystifies me.
The last time I saw Talk Radio was a year ago with Jeanne at the Alamo Drafthouse in Austin - the bonus was having Bogosian in attendance. Unfortunately, much of Austin didn’t share our enthusiasm. There were maybe 50 or 60 people at the screening, tops. Come on A-Town - you cats are supposed to be the cool ones! Maybe the movie is a tad angry for you hippie freaks. Still, Bogosian and Linklater did immortalize your city in subUrbia…
Surprisingly, Bogosian himself was fairly enthusiastic after the screening. He seemed happy to field as many inane questions as people were willing to throw his way (as if he were Barry once again), concerning a movie whose shadow he’s probably sick of living in by now. I hate typing that, as he’s an immensely talented personality, but it’s a shame very few have made good use of his acting talents since Talk Radio. Sure, he’s been in many films, but never commanding the sort of screen time he can clearly handle. (No, Under Siege 2 does not count.)
He was also pimping his latest novel "Wasted Beauty", a copy of which I bought and he happily signed, with my favorite Champlain quote: “There’s nothing more boring than people who love you.”
For more information on Eric Bogosian, check out his website.
For more information on Oliver Stone, contact your local FBI agent.
Maybe neither. Maybe the real artistry of the film was buried with Alan Berg, the Denver talk radio host who was gunned down in his driveway by white supremacists some four years before the movie was made. Berg’s story was later crafted into a book, “Talked to Death: The Life and Murder of Alan Berg”, by Stephen Singular. Since much of that book was conscripted into the film, Singular likely deserves some credit as well.
I’ve been a Talk Radio nut since I first saw it on late night cable when I was in high school, which was the ideal venue in which to view it. The story is told in a way that seeing it at home alone, by accident, in the darkest hours of the eve can only add to the disembodied, hollow radio vibe Stone & Bogosian aimed to emulate.
One thing is for certain – no other combination of talent could’ve created a movie on this subject half this compelling. (Many have tried both before and since.) Take Stone out of the equation and you lose the fluid camera work and the buildup of paranoia & claustrophobia. Take away Bogosian and you lose Barry Champlain and the best goddamn lead for whom you could ask.
For those in the unknown, the movie details the sordid antics of late-night Dallas radio host Barry Champlain (Bogosian). He’s an obnoxious guy, who pokes and prods at his callers with equal amounts of contempt and enjoyment. Eh, maybe not so much the latter – he always seems to be in a pretty bad mood. One night he is killed as he leaves the station to go home. Then the end credits roll.
The movie is everything that happens around the above - the details of the finer points of Champlain’s mundane life. He’s Barry when he’s on the air. When he’s not, he’s as confused and frightened as his callers – so much so that when his show goes national, he begs his ex-wife Ellen (Ellen Greene) to fly to Dallas and “be with him” for the first broadcast. Jeez…what a weenie. Even his boss (an insanely effective Alec Baldwin; a precursor to his Glengarry Glen Ross role) puts him in his place several times. One of Baldwin’s great bits of dialogue: “What you are is a fuckin’ suit salesman with a big mouth!”
The movie reveals much about guys like Howard Stern and Rush Limbaugh. What’s probably most noteworthy is how timely it remains, despite being made 17 years ago. (Someone even had the foresight to keep the topical politics of the day out of the dialogue.) Talk radio hasn’t changed all that much: It’s still a guy, his microphone, his callers & guests, all bandying about tawdry, unsolvable issues for a few hours. It is rare that a movie becomes the definitive take on its subject matter, but Talk Radio achieves the distinction.
Such was my fascination with the film that when given the opportunity to engage in on-air gab myself, I accepted. A talk radio producer once told me that people who call in to talk radio shows are basically stupid – after a year and half on The Chris Duel Show, as Sir Celluloid the movie guru, I heard little that would lead me to believe otherwise. (Note: This opinion is not necessarily shared by Chris Duel, his show, or any employees of KTSA, the station which airs the program.) It is not an easy task to wade through the swamp of bloated ignorance that is talk radio today. Why hosts do not regularly goad their callers to the point of gunning them down in their driveways mystifies me.
The last time I saw Talk Radio was a year ago with Jeanne at the Alamo Drafthouse in Austin - the bonus was having Bogosian in attendance. Unfortunately, much of Austin didn’t share our enthusiasm. There were maybe 50 or 60 people at the screening, tops. Come on A-Town - you cats are supposed to be the cool ones! Maybe the movie is a tad angry for you hippie freaks. Still, Bogosian and Linklater did immortalize your city in subUrbia…
Surprisingly, Bogosian himself was fairly enthusiastic after the screening. He seemed happy to field as many inane questions as people were willing to throw his way (as if he were Barry once again), concerning a movie whose shadow he’s probably sick of living in by now. I hate typing that, as he’s an immensely talented personality, but it’s a shame very few have made good use of his acting talents since Talk Radio. Sure, he’s been in many films, but never commanding the sort of screen time he can clearly handle. (No, Under Siege 2 does not count.)
He was also pimping his latest novel "Wasted Beauty", a copy of which I bought and he happily signed, with my favorite Champlain quote: “There’s nothing more boring than people who love you.”
For more information on Eric Bogosian, check out his website.
For more information on Oliver Stone, contact your local FBI agent.
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Gone Spurs Gone
I have come here to praise the San Antonio Spurs, not to bury them.
“We” worship our Spurs down here in S.A. – and with a blinding, shortsighted passion, too. People are aghast and hurt over last night’s loss to the Dallas Mavericks and big chunks of the city will be in a pissy mood for the next several weeks, if not even longer. The fans are currently rationalizing the loss by saying stuff like “Avery [Johnson] deserves it. We’ll get behind him (but not behind Mark Cuban!).” The familiar chant “Go Spurs Go” has quietly morphed into “Go Texas!” Is it asking too much to say “Go Dallas” or “Go Mavs!”? Guess so – and until you do say “Go Mavs!”, you can take your faux love for Avery Johnson to someone’s ears who will listen. (By the way - let me just say from a totally uninformed, non-obsessive P.O.V. - Dirk Nowitzki is a mesmerizing basketball player.)
I usually only get into the whole fervor around this stage of the game. I’d only been following the playoffs over the past two weeks on a purely informational basis, and yet last night’s game was undeniably something to which attention must be paid (i.e. I was watching the game for about the last 30 or so minutes; prior to that, I listened from the other room). The Mavericks ruled the roost for the first half of the game, then in the third the Spurs surged ahead somewhat...but it wasn’t until like the last minute of the fourth quarter that Parker & Co. leaped forward, tied the game, and sent it into overtime.
Now at that point a Spurs devotee is likely in a dual frame of mind: “They will win this!” as well as “They can’t lose…can they??”
They can and they did, and I’m reminded of the dialogue some old man has about the town basketball team in Pleasantville: “Maybe that’s where they get that saying?: ‘You can’t win ‘em all’”. Then J.T. Walsh steps in (symbolizing a typical blinded Spurs fan) and says “But they do win ‘em all!”
The Spurs are a fucking great basketball team – this cannot be argued. But they are not gods and their losses make their wins all the sweeter. If they “won ‘em all”, what might be a Spurs fan's frame of reference for reality? Can they play better next year, if they’d won this year? Another old saying I’m reminded of is “It’s not whether you win or lose, it’s how you play the game”, and too many people get caught up in a win-or-lose, do-or-die frame of mind and don’t think about how well they’re playing the game.
In the last minute of last night’s fourth quarter, the Spurs danced around the floor in this delightful dribble ballet that was as exhilarating to view as any big budget Hollywood feature I’d seen in a good long while. It was outstanding TV drama in those moments. If it’s only a good game when they win, then that is not being there for your Spurs.
I can’t believe I’m typing this, but is it possible I’m a “better” Spurs fan than the ones who buy season tickets and decorate their vehicles with flags and signage? Typing this, I’m feeling like I am.
Get behind the Spurs when they lose, as fervently as you do when they win. Let them know you’re aware that they can’t win ‘em all, it means a lot to you when they win some or most of them, but that mostly you're at your happiest when they're just playing the game.
“We” worship our Spurs down here in S.A. – and with a blinding, shortsighted passion, too. People are aghast and hurt over last night’s loss to the Dallas Mavericks and big chunks of the city will be in a pissy mood for the next several weeks, if not even longer. The fans are currently rationalizing the loss by saying stuff like “Avery [Johnson] deserves it. We’ll get behind him (but not behind Mark Cuban!).” The familiar chant “Go Spurs Go” has quietly morphed into “Go Texas!” Is it asking too much to say “Go Dallas” or “Go Mavs!”? Guess so – and until you do say “Go Mavs!”, you can take your faux love for Avery Johnson to someone’s ears who will listen. (By the way - let me just say from a totally uninformed, non-obsessive P.O.V. - Dirk Nowitzki is a mesmerizing basketball player.)
I usually only get into the whole fervor around this stage of the game. I’d only been following the playoffs over the past two weeks on a purely informational basis, and yet last night’s game was undeniably something to which attention must be paid (i.e. I was watching the game for about the last 30 or so minutes; prior to that, I listened from the other room). The Mavericks ruled the roost for the first half of the game, then in the third the Spurs surged ahead somewhat...but it wasn’t until like the last minute of the fourth quarter that Parker & Co. leaped forward, tied the game, and sent it into overtime.
Now at that point a Spurs devotee is likely in a dual frame of mind: “They will win this!” as well as “They can’t lose…can they??”
They can and they did, and I’m reminded of the dialogue some old man has about the town basketball team in Pleasantville: “Maybe that’s where they get that saying?: ‘You can’t win ‘em all’”. Then J.T. Walsh steps in (symbolizing a typical blinded Spurs fan) and says “But they do win ‘em all!”
The Spurs are a fucking great basketball team – this cannot be argued. But they are not gods and their losses make their wins all the sweeter. If they “won ‘em all”, what might be a Spurs fan's frame of reference for reality? Can they play better next year, if they’d won this year? Another old saying I’m reminded of is “It’s not whether you win or lose, it’s how you play the game”, and too many people get caught up in a win-or-lose, do-or-die frame of mind and don’t think about how well they’re playing the game.
In the last minute of last night’s fourth quarter, the Spurs danced around the floor in this delightful dribble ballet that was as exhilarating to view as any big budget Hollywood feature I’d seen in a good long while. It was outstanding TV drama in those moments. If it’s only a good game when they win, then that is not being there for your Spurs.
I can’t believe I’m typing this, but is it possible I’m a “better” Spurs fan than the ones who buy season tickets and decorate their vehicles with flags and signage? Typing this, I’m feeling like I am.
Get behind the Spurs when they lose, as fervently as you do when they win. Let them know you’re aware that they can’t win ‘em all, it means a lot to you when they win some or most of them, but that mostly you're at your happiest when they're just playing the game.
Friday, May 19, 2006
Ridiculous 2: The Sublime
Doctor Who’s Slitheen two-parter (“Aliens of London” & “World War III”) was, for me, the first season’s low point and it was the only story I never even bothered writing about here at the Morgue. Most of my dislike stemmed from the Slitheen themselves, who - as the series’ most touted “new” creations – weren’t exactly my idea of cool villains. They looked pretty silly, which was maybe the idea, but particularly annoying was how they alternated back and forth between stealthy CGI monsters and men in rubber suits. Pick one or the other - but don’t display that sort of inconsistency. That was the deal-breaker for me buying into the Slitheen, which is noteworthy for a story that featured farting bad guys.In the weeks preceding the transmission of “Boom Town”, the sole tagline attached to the story was something like “The Doctor meets an old enemy he’d long since thought dead.” Fan speculation ran rampant. Who could it be? The Master? More Daleks? When “The Doctor Dances” ended and “Next Time On…” played, there must have been a collective groan heard across the UK. (Except for the kids in the audience – British pre-teens loved the Slitheen.)
“Only three episodes left and one of them is a Slitheen story!?!?! Argh!!!”
At least it starred the one Slitheen I liked - Margaret Blaine (Annette Badland). Badland is one of those quirky, reliable actresses you’ve seen here and there over the years if you’ve watched enough British film & TV. I recognized her instantly from Angels and Insects, but perhaps her most noteworthy role is also one of her earliest: Michael Palin’s one true “love”, Griselda Fishfinger, in Terry Gilliam’s Jabberwocky - she who threw the potato at Dennis Cooper. Badland also recently scored a small role in Tim Burton’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.“Boom Town” has much working against it, couched as it is between two mammoth two-parters, designed as an intimate character piece and well, the Slitheen. Upon my initial viewing, I wasn’t annoyed by it as I was by the previous Slitheen storyline – quite the contrary. It got me to actually like the Slitheen concept, which was a triumph and due in no small part to Badland's perfect portrayal of an alien stranded on a planet it detests.
However it also seemed bogged down in the soapier aspects of the season, notably Rose and Mickey’s ongoing story and for the first time, we’re given some straight-up social debate - the death penalty, and who has the right to enforce it. Wasn’t sure I was comfortable with that, either. The resolution felt pat which was the polar opposite of the story I’d just seen. It mostly seemed a throwaway “let’s save some money and catch our breath before the big finish” episode.
Multiple viewings & hindsight have proven me wrong. “Boom Town” is arguably Russell T Davies’ tightest DW work. It’s the one script of his that directly plays on what he does best, which is write engaging characters, at odds with one another, finding a way to work it out. Davies could pen an entire episode with just the Doctor and Rose sitting in the TARDIS talking to each other, and it’d be one of the highlights of a given Doctor Who season (actually, I’d love to see him do this).
The death penalty debate is the tale’s crux, and what sells it is that the argument is leveled squarely against the Doctor. Anyone familiar with the classic Tom Baker story “Genesis of the Daleks” will recognize “Boom Town” is Davies’ answer to the Doctor’s moral “Do I have the right?” dilemma for which that story is so famous. He has changed since wearing the scarf. He now feels he has the right, and that’s not the most reassuring notion about our hero. In this episode, more than any other, we see exactly what the Doctor has become in light of the many tragedies he’s endured and Margaret’s accusations against him will have a deeper resonance sooner than you think.
What initially bothered me in the soapsuds arena, I’ve also come to appreciate. The two “dates” that occur in the story are well conceived, played and executed (no pun intended). Rose and Mickey share quiet, personal drama that tells much about both, provided one bothers to listen. It’s a great piece for Noel Clarke who’s finally given some meat to chew – stuff set up here with Mickey is still playing out in the current season.
“Boom Town” is the type of affair only a show runner could write. It comes from a mind that knows the bigger Doctor Who picture and wants to plant seeds for the future. It’s easily the most underrated episode of the first season, and the one I find myself loving more and more upon each subsequent viewing.
Note to Viewers: It appears Sci Fi is taking a week off from Doctor Who and are having some kind of all day movie marathon next Friday. Oddly, one of the films they're playing is Shark Attack 3: Megalodon, starring Captain Jack himself, John Barrowman. (My friend Lee tells me this film has one of the greatest bits of atrocious dialogue ever written.)
The Doctor and Rose will return on June 2nd in "Bad Wolf"!
Questionable Parenting
I’m lecturing the recently turned 13-year old on the fact that he’s only got one more week to go – for one more week, just keep up the grades. He’s restless, as any of us gearing up for summer vacation were at that age. The furthest thing from his mind right now is homework. Now skateboarding? Another novel altogether. He’s an A-B student, who could probably be straight A if he really put his mind to it. But I mean really – A-B student…What? Am I gonna complain about his grades?
In the midst of my lecture he starts making faces - contortions and distortions of agony. I get a tad louder, pleading, “Come on, man! Just do this one thing for your mother! And for me!” (Surely that split-second add-on would help.)
The faces became sillier. I finally balked at him, “Look - what’s the problem? It’s not a big thing to ask!”
He says, “It’s just…with this song…”
At this point it finally snapped – we’d been partaking in Korn’s version of “Another Brick in the Wall” the entire time, on a CD that I gave him, no less.
So I briefly considered my mid-thirties hypocrisy and realized this was a pretty funny moment, but I also knew I had to save some face.
And that’s when I offered up my off the cuff, shiny pearl of wisdom:
“We Don’t Need No Education, but we do need good grades.”
And the more I thought about it, the more I felt justified in saying it. If I’m not teaching my kid some crackerjack B.S. thinking that could really be of use in his life, I am only doing some of the job.
He shot back with, “I think it’s pretty hard to get one without the other”.
Wow…to be so quick on the uptake and yet so naïve. If I could bottle that, I’d sell it and rule the world…but that matters not. My intention was only to give him advice concerning getting through the last week of school.
I replied, “It can be done. You’re a smart kid. Think about it for a while and you’ll figure it out.”
Hopefully he doesn’t figure it out and remember it at the start of the next school year.
In the midst of my lecture he starts making faces - contortions and distortions of agony. I get a tad louder, pleading, “Come on, man! Just do this one thing for your mother! And for me!” (Surely that split-second add-on would help.)
The faces became sillier. I finally balked at him, “Look - what’s the problem? It’s not a big thing to ask!”
He says, “It’s just…with this song…”
At this point it finally snapped – we’d been partaking in Korn’s version of “Another Brick in the Wall” the entire time, on a CD that I gave him, no less.
So I briefly considered my mid-thirties hypocrisy and realized this was a pretty funny moment, but I also knew I had to save some face.
And that’s when I offered up my off the cuff, shiny pearl of wisdom:
“We Don’t Need No Education, but we do need good grades.”
And the more I thought about it, the more I felt justified in saying it. If I’m not teaching my kid some crackerjack B.S. thinking that could really be of use in his life, I am only doing some of the job.
He shot back with, “I think it’s pretty hard to get one without the other”.
Wow…to be so quick on the uptake and yet so naïve. If I could bottle that, I’d sell it and rule the world…but that matters not. My intention was only to give him advice concerning getting through the last week of school.
I replied, “It can be done. You’re a smart kid. Think about it for a while and you’ll figure it out.”
Hopefully he doesn’t figure it out and remember it at the start of the next school year.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
John Jakle
Jeanne's brother John is a West Hollywood artist and I wanted to share some of his work (click here). He did the Ravenswan movie poster, which someday will surely be some kind of collector's item - we only ever printed ten of them.I can critique film, TV, theatre and the odd piece of music or literature, but I don't feel justified in critiquing art of the canvas sort. I do, however, know that I like Johnny's work immensely.
The feeling is mutual, as Johnny loved Ravenswan - he hooked into Bill Gundry's Gavin in a big way...which is sorta weird, if you ask me. When he was asked to do a Ravenswan poster, he quickly accepted.
But when I started telling him how I wanted the piece to look and what information it needed to convey , he was having none of it. My desire was to have (perhaps predictably) all four characters represented on the piece, but he refused. He was going to do it, and he was going to do it his way, and that was that (although he did include my "Leave Your Baggage at the Door" tagline). His attitude, while frustrating at the time, was in hindsight intensely admirable.
I was both bowled over and perplexed by his finished work. It's not like any other movie poster I've seen, which seemed a plus. It may never sell tickets or DVDs, but it certainly doesn't look like a piece of nonsensical advertising, photoshopped-and-cobbled-together on a computer, like some type of "and then wacky consequences - via the minds of Poe & Wilde - ensued" affair.
His poster pleased me, as does his other work. Most of the pieces in the above gallery are subway-poster sized; expansive, all encompassing stuff - impressive to stand back about 10 feet and stare at.
If you know anyone who'd pay these prices, don't hesitate to let me know...and he will do commissioned work.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
The Return of the Shrew
Friday night I had the pleasure of attending an original theatrical production, The Return of the Shrew, written, directed by and co-starring one of San Antonio’s best kept secrets, John Poole.
I first became aware of Poole many years ago when he was part of the local improv group, the Oxy-Morons. He exhibited a unique edge, laced with a type of manic behavior that made one wonder if he might spontaneously combust in the midst of any given performance. Poole could always be counted on to deliver the most unexpected improv material.
By no means am I an expert on local theater, but I do wonder why John Poole is not in greater demand by the community. Perhaps it has something to do with my ongoing theory about talent that “makes it look easy” rarely receives proper respect and recognition.
John and his wife Laurie Dietrich (along with a host of other hard-working people) eventually founded The Shoestring Shakespeare Company, which over the years has staged all manner of Bard-like productions in S.A. This is no mean feat, mind you, in a city where most theatergoers tend to be the audience in the pit – myself included. (Titus is my favorite Shakespeare movie, if that tells you anything.)
The Return of the Shrew is, as its title implies, a sequel to The Taming (although not the first I’ve discovered). It’s a frenzied, bawdy romp and I suspect if Will were around today he’d give it a wax seal of approval. The plot isn’t terribly complex, nor does it need to be. It does, however, need to be true to its source material, which I believe it is; The Dukes of Hazzard movie this mercifully is not.
Set a month after the events of a story written some 400 years ago, the characters have all been largely screwed up by what went down at that time, and most notably by Katherina’s monologue from the finale which, as Poole explains in the theatre program, details “a woman’s duty to her lord and husband, whose true meaning is still debated.” To go into too much detail might ruin the show’s pleasures, but suffice it to say, some characters believe that Kate’s “shrew” has merely gone into hiding, and under the proper circumstances, could easily be resurrected and thus life will return to “normal” for these people. Duplicitous schemes, wicked behavior and a fair amount of Python-esque cross-dressing ensue.
If that sounds too complicated, J.T. Street put it far more eloquently and succinctly: This is a play for people who enjoy watching other people getting beat with foam swords. See it and you too will realize actors smacking the crap out of each other with foam swords is an immense amount of fun. Like I said, I view this sort of thing from the pit, and clearly so does J.T.
The play alternates between spoofy faux-Shakespearian dialogue and modern speech. The two coagulate in an imperceptible fashion, as John the writer has an instinct for hitting the right beats in the right places. I was frequently reminded of Blackadder, which may be the highest form of praise I could give the material. In my mind’s eye I could see this play performed by Rowan Atkinson, Stephen Fry, Hugh Laurie, Miranda Richardson and the rest of those lunatics.
Which is not to imply the cast isn’t up to par, because each does a fine, distinct job. Singling out Martha Dickman’s Bianca exhibits bias, since Martha is one of the stars of Ravenswan, but I’ll do it anyway because 1) Martha, like John Poole, is a hugely underrated talent in this city, 2) she’s an absolute scream in the role, and 3) it alleviates the task of singling anyone else out. Working as a unit, the cast gels & sells the script, and perhaps more importantly, these people have huge amounts of fun. And when actors have fun, so does the audience.
Kudos to Barbara Zuniga’s costume design as well. Like the play, it's a meshing of the past and present – spiked heels and corsets, codpieces and denim. And then there’s the paint! Bianca, for instance, has the word SPOILED emblazoned across her ass. The costuming provides quick information about the characters, like little comic book panels dancing across the stage.
Go see The Return of the Shrew – you’ve got two more weekends to do so. Have a couple beers or a few glasses of wine. Laugh ‘til you begin to annoy the actors. Shrew is presented as theatre-in-the-round. The Cameo has two different areas from where the play may be seen: an upper level, which puts you at eye level with the actors, but keeps viewers at a distance...or the pit, which surrounds the actors & the stage and immerses you in the action.
I viewed Act I from the upper level and Act II from the pit and the difference was night and day. Embrace your inner-S.A. theatergoer and see it from the pit.
Run Dates: May 5, 2006 thru May 27, 2006
Times: Friday and Saturday nights at 8:00 pm. Saturday matinees on May 20 and May 27 at 2:30 p.m.
Tickets: $15 General, $12 Military, Senior, SATCO, Groups, $10 Students, $8 - Student Groups of 15+
Phone: (210) 472-2636
For more info, check The Cameo Center website.
And speaking of Blackadder & Shakespeare, here's a rarely seen sketch, that even I - who am obsessed with all things Adder - hadn't seen until recently. Methinks John Poole would get a kick out of it...
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