Archive for June, 2009

In Chicago, I had the misfortune of going to see one of the all-time worst movies: The Cell. Jennifer Lopez tries to enter the psyche of Vincent D’Onofrio (a serial killer with an apparent set design fetish). It was directed by Tarsem. It was like a gay Silence of the Lambs, but only the scene where Ted Levine tucked his junk between his legs and danced like a lady.

Actually, it was gayer than that. It was gayer than the “Total Eclipse of the Heart” video. It was gayer than Jeffrey.

Anyhoodles, one of the students in my class remembered my ramblings about how miserable The Cell was and, for my birthday, he gifted me a copy of the DVD. I immediately sold it to a record store for $2.00 in credit (they got robbed!).

But that became a running joke for us — we couldn’t wait for the sequel.

I have stopped laughing.

Frank Whaley? For reals?

I honestly think I may go to sleep right now (not because of the trailer, I’m just really beat).

No agenda tomorrow, so I should (finally) be able to wrap up some loose ends (and finish my review of Armond White’s review in last week’s NYP (now with reader responses from this week’s NYP!) of Up.

And for all the Yankees fans out there? We had $100 seats today (yes, that’s EACH) and I have to say that they weren’t $85 better than $15 bleacher seats. If you’re planning on going to the stadium, get bleacher seats and save money for the nachos and the garlic fries. And the Tums.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Rachael Mason brought this into my life, as I now share it you.

You’re very welcome.

Have to leave early tomorrow to pick up Yankee tix and then off to the stadium. The really short version of my Up(coming) review: Go see it.

G’night!

And that’s one to grow on.

I look forward to the next time Ellen Page hosts SNL and plays this kid.

Let’s play a game!

Last night, I took an open box of spaghetti off the bottom shelf of our pantry and boiled it to perfection.

I took a jar of spaghetti sauce (that I am 98% sure was still sealed, though I didn’t check for an expiration date) and cooked that, as well (we have a giant stove).

To the sauce, I added the last of a bag of Trader Joe’s Quattro Formaggio (if you have a recipe that requires cheese, use this — you’re welcome) and a sprinkling of grated parmesan (it felt harder than it I thought it should be, but it smelled fine).

I ate this for dinner (Teresa had some homemade chicken fried rice and we always eat the same thing — I really don’t mind and it’s easier to cook one meal than two — but I had a hankering for pasta and I figgered the cheese would go bad before Teresa could eat it again). I thought that Victoria’s Vodka Sauce was what I used to get at Western Beef (now an Apple Store) all the time, but it didn’t taste at all as I remembered it… but then I didn’t have the QF to add back then.

So… what made Jed sick? Can spaghetti go bad? Can jarred sauce turn into the kind of thing that makes you go vom-vom? Anyone have a good “spoiled parmesan and the effect it had on me” story?

I have one: I used to go see Spoiled Parmesan at IO every Thursday night (they usually played with Caught Buying Pants, Brew-Ha-Ha or The Niggards). Then Charna broke them up and they split into Uncle Tupelo and Son Volt. The end.

And yes, I know Uncle Tupelo split into Son Volt and Wilco. Yes. You’re very smart. Have a cookie.

But my journalling/newspaper trashing has fallen way by the wayside recently. Yesterday I did some VO work for my friend’s pro-marriage equality cartoon. Can’t wait to see it. Feels good to “act” again, if only vocally.

But besides that and our picnic that lasted well into Sunday (thanks again, Diana & Rosie and to everyone else who made it) (and also those who couldn’t), I’ve been doing chores and buying groceries and trying to find new recipes that basically a rearranging of the basic ingredients we eat in everything (so THIS is what it’s like to open a Mexican restaurant!). And while I have been reading the paper every day, and making notes with the intention of writing entries here, I just haven’t had the time or the energy. Whatever time I can spend with my wife is hers. Whatever time I have to spend cooking/cleaning/shopping is the second priority.

You fuckers come in third. But I still loves you, which is why I (finally) did last week’s movie review and why I’ll see Up tomorrow (and hopefully write the review by Wednesday night).

Now I’m off to get 12 Grain bread and bananas. And for dinner tonight? I’ll make some filet mignon for the lady (we don’t have many choices at the ol’ C-Town, as most of their steaks are of a lesser quality, but their filet is a steal at $16/pound) and I think I’ll try and perfect last week’s experiment: chicken and apples and potatoes and onions and non-iodized salt all mushed together into a fan and sauteed. It’s like sausage without the casing.

Ain’t I fancy?

And it wasn’t much vom-vom. I don’t feel ill at all and there’s no cause for panic. I just wondered if anyone might know why I was ill in the a.m.

EDIT: Just spoke to wifey. She says the cheese made the sauce to oily. We may have a winner!

Firstly, I’ve noticed something that makes me to laugh.

When I was a kid, Hollywood logic dictated that if a movie was successful, they’d make a sequel and add a “II” at the end of the original’s title. Sometimes they’d jazz it up (Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan) or try to be clever (the sequel to K-9 was K-911) (see what they did there?), but they always made sure the audience knew it was a sequel. In fact, the movie The Madness of King George was originally titled The Madness of King George III (as it was about King George III), but Miramax decided that most Americans would think it was part three of a trilogy and not see it (and I’ve decided that anyone that might have thought that has still not seen that movie to this day).

But check out your multiplexes: Angels & Demons (without Tom’s mullet and/or Amelie, how are we to deduce that this is a sequel to The Da Vinci Code, despite the novel being a prequel to TDVC?) plays next door to Terminator: Salvation (the fourth movie, not counting the recently cancelled TV series) and will soon be joined by Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs (the third movie) (I think) and Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen and Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakquel (both the second film in their respective canons) (man, I wish someone would put these films in respective cannons). And not a single number or Roman numeral in the lot. Same with Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian.

Is the thinking that these franchises are so well-known and successful that no number is necessary? Is this the new status symbol in Tinseltown? The numberless sequel? Or maybe, as is the case with Ben Stiller’s new semi-autobiographical kiddie film, it’s so much like the original that adding a number would just confuse most of its audience?

And speaking of confusing the audience, my mother can stomach violence in movies, but not seeing someone being humiliated. I feel the same way about advertising, which is why pre-movie commercials are starting to make me sad.

The American car industry is going into its death-throes. All of a sudden, “fuel efficiency” trumps “racing stripe.” And it isn’t just our car companies that are feeling it — all those fur-in-ers’ cars that we used to buy in droves? Now we don’t (s’much). And yet… no one is changing up their ad campaigns.

BMW continues to run their insanely annoying “car that drives around in a circle (like a paintbrush kinda!) for ten minutes (and we wasted as much paint as we did gas!)” commercial. Honda now has an ad for their Insight (I think it’s like a hybrid — I was turning off my phone and missed a chunk of their ad, which I’m sure was terrif!) that looks like every other car commercial ever. But what kills me is that the new thing to do is either make your ad look like a movie preview (which, if done well, is a perennial gem) or a car commercial (this would be awesome if dealerships weren’t closing left and right… I wonder if/how this will affect the box office for Jeremy Piven’s The Goods).

A Lucky Charms ad made to look like a car commercial? Bleh.

A Canon Powershot ad made to look like as a car commercial? Bleh.

A Honeycomb ad where a hyperactive boy is a hot potato between a doctor and a vet (see, he’s BeeBoy!)? How can you not find healthcare in this country hilarious? What a brilliant way to sell CEREAL. Even worse, they’ve set up a website for BeeBoy (I shan’t share the url). B’also? In the Lucky Charms ad, we learn that Lucky has big news and if we want to know what the big news is, we have to go to Lucky’s new website (I shan’t provide this url either).

Oh, and eating Lunchables helps you play basketball, apparently.

Look, I get that marketing to kids today is harder (thanks, ADD!) and that you need a hook (once they’re at our website, they can play some cool games!), but a food company’s “cool games” are barely games and never cool. And what could Lucky’s big news be? A new marshmallow shape in his inedible wares? Well, guess what, kids! They all TASTE THE SAME. Pink hearts taste like yellow moons taste like orange Stars of David. Who thought it would be a good idea to add [SPOILER WARNING] what I think is a yellow and red hourglass to the “charms” line-up?

But I reminded myself that I was here to see a kid’s movie, so I couldn’t fault General Mills for trying to reach its target demo (though I have a big hunch that kids will be saddened to discover its just a new shape in Lucky’s high fructose corn syreal [see what I did there?]).

The previews also showed me what movies kids can look forward to in the coming months:

Up (next on my list – thank you, America!) looks gorgeous (what Pixar movie hasn’t?) and should appeal to all ages (I cried at Finding Nemo and made the goofiest wide-mouthed smile as I watched the recent Toy Story 3 trailer just yesterday).

Aliens in the Attic should appeal to the millions of people that keep Disney is business. Since I am not one of them, I will try my best to avoid this awful live-action mess (though Doris Roberts doing kung fu got a nice chuckle from me, but then I turned it into a cough so the people in my row wouldn’t think I was “differently abled”).

The trailer for Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakquel (oh, now I get it! HA!) is the three CGI rodents “singing along” to the 20th Century Fox intro that plays before their movies (you know, with the spotlights and the drum roll?). That’s it. To the two guys behind me (“What the fuck was that?” “Um… gay?”), thank you for helping me through that hard period in my life.

Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs made me think of that old Shakespeare quote (as opposed to his newer ones?) about the tale that’s filled with sound and fury, signifying nothing. The animation is pretty — it’s almost Pixarian in its meticulousness. But where Pixar movies tug at your heartstrings, Ice Age tugs at your fartstrings. Ray Romano, John Leguizamo and Denis Leary? Really? I don’t like to watch them in person (Oh, you do? Rent Welcome to Mooseport, The Pest and Two If By Sea. Yeah.), but hearing them talk while looking at… whatever the fuck Leguizamo is supposed to be… no thanks.

I should also note that I may have been the youngest person in the audience. Of the maybe 20 filled seats, 12 were elderly people (always in pairs!) and some guys around my age. No kids. I loves me some free sparsely-attended matinees.

The movie itself, well, let’s just say that its parts are greater than its sum. If you stop and think about anything in the movie, you will be confused. Just smile and wait 12 seconds and one of your favorite actors will pop up!

Two years after the last film (that is to say, the first film), Ben Stiller is now Ron Popeil 2.0. He invents things that practically sell themselves (like the glow-in-the-dark flashlight) and yet, he makes infomercials with George Foreman in order to sell them, despite their popularity (now THAT’S savvy business sense!). And he did this in the last year and change. After he quit working at the museum.

(Regardless of everything, if you were the only person who could speak to historical figures every night of your life and play with a dinosaur and sitch, why would you ever ever ever quit that job? ESPECIALLY if you had a young child who would TOTALLY ADORE YOU for sharing said world with him? It’s the easiest job in the world! Just smile, Jed. Oh, look! Ricky Gervais!)

Poor Ricky Gervais. He’s so much better than the shit he’s done in the U.S. I can’t wait for his next film (he’s co-writing and co-directing it and everyone from Tina Fey to Louis C.K. to Christopher Guest is in it). It used to be called This Side of the Truth. Now it’s called The Invention of Lying. And this is Ricky visiting my BPF in his pajamas.

But enough about genius. Let’s get back to NatM:BotS.

Ahem (taps microphone). It’s pronounced “cap-ooh-CHEEN” not “cap-OOH-chin.” I am amazed that not a single person working on either of these films realized that. Sigh.

And does Pocahontas speak English or not? I thought she did (on account of she does repeatedly), but then Robin “Teddy Roosevelt” Williams tells Ben “Ben Stiller” Stiller that everyone is going to the Smithsonian where they will remain in their boxes forever (after Ben left, the museum decided that holograms are better than actual statues and sitch), but he hasn’t told anyone (including his girlfriend, Pocahontas) and she’s literally twenty feet away and smiling as he announces this to “Ben.”

Deep breaths, Jed. So what if the Museum of NATURAL History is boxing up its actual dinosaur skeleton? The holographic one will be ever naturaller!

“Jed, are you OK?”

Oh, um. Yeah, Ben. If my eye-rolling is distracting you, I apologize. Oh. He was talking to Owen Wilson. Never mind.

Hey, it’s Mindy Kaling! And Jonah Hill! And Hank Azaria speaking like the guy who narrates “Monster Mash!”And Bill Hader (one of the many scene-stealers who made this experience more enjoyable than it had any right to be)!

Every review I’ve read has fawned over Amy Adams. Listen, she’s a great actress. I loved her in Junebug. She is incredibly talented. Having said that, The Hudsucker Proxy is one of my favorites IN SPITE OF Jennifer Jason Leigh’s poor attempt to evoke a “screwball dame” character (complete with painful accent). Adams’ Amelia Earhart is a less-pronounced but equally annoying accent based on JJL (or so it seemed to me).

And if Hader gets an A+ for his performance, Christopher Guest deserves three of them. His Ivan the Terrible was subtle and hilarious (even when he was forced to amuse five-year-olds by insisting his name actually translates to “Ivan the Awesome”).

Oh, look! It’s Rodan’s “Thinker” and he sounds just like Carl on Aqua Teen Hunger Force! And those three floating marble cherubs that sing “More Than A Woman” even gayer than the Bee Gees? Why, those are the Jonas Brothers! LOL!

But, Ben? If you have less than an hour to save Owen Wilson’s life, why are you casually making chit-chat with…

Oh, look! It’s Craig Robinson as one of the Tuskegee Airmen! Surely one of these guys will start to cough in the background, right? C’mon, TL and RBG! Show some love to your old-school fans!

Sadly, no one coughed or confusedly scratched their arms or fainted. Sigh. What a wasted oppor…

Oh, look! It’s Oscar the Grouch! And Darth Vader!

But why isn’t Amelia Earhart freaked out by how much the world has changed since she…

Is that Clint Howard? Who ISN’T in this movie?

But with the possible exception of Owen Wilson calling himself a “midnight cowboy,” there was little humor aimed directly at the grown-ups.

One last question: If Ben Stiller wasn’t a famous actor and he approached you at a party and started flirting with you, would you find it charming? Or would you ask the chimpy looking Jew to please go away? OK, what if you looked like Amy Adams? Yeah, I thought so.

If you have kids, they’ll probably love this movie. I don’t have kids (until Maury tells me I do), so I didn’t expect to enjoy myself. But, honestly? I laughed a few times. It was a fun film, despite the Grand Canyon-sized plot holes.

But please, America. If there’s a third one, don’t make me see it.

Next up: Up!