One of us is an idiot

I recently sat through the latest Quentin Tarantino film, Death Proof, which was released as part of a double feature called Grindhouse initially, but for some reason has shown up on DVD a full month before its twin.

As I sat there, narrowing my eyes at yet another of his scenes in which characters yammer on and on in ways which do not in any way advance the plot, and only illuminate character in such a way as to tell you that Mr. Tarantino believes they are the embodiment of his definition of cool, I realized something:

One of us, Mr. Tarantino or myself, is an idiot.

I should say straight off the bat that I am perfectly willing to believe that the idiot is me. I, after all, do not have legions of fans and millions of dollars. People do not throw money at me to pursue my dreams.

So it may very well be that I am the idiot, unable to comprehend with my tiny mind the subtleties of Mr. Tarantino's work. Perhaps there are intricate things going on that I just fail to catch.

It is a little hard to find oneself idiotic from your own point of view, however, so rather than simply conceding defeat, I shall explore the possibility that it is not me.

I detect a pattern in his films, a diminishing return. Reservoir Dogs was good, Pulp Fiction slightly less so, and on and on for more than a decade until I find myself watching two hours of Kurt Russell as a man who kills attractive women with his tricked-out stunt car for no apparent reason whatsoever. The attractive women have seemingly endless stretches of time that they fill with meandering dialog. This takes up most of the two sections of the film. Kurt Russell appears in the rest, and sometimes joins in on the yammering.

Maybe I'm just growing soft. Stylized violence for its own sake does nothing for me. And all the "cool" dialog just serves to remind me that I am watching a film about people who I would not like very much, who do not seem real to me. Even people who behave like his characters in real life do not seem real to me.

Still, assuming for a moment that Mr. Tarantino is the idiot among us, he is not entirely without his talents. He makes a nice mix tape, for example. Perhaps he could do this professionally?

Danza suits up for Batman sequel

A Moon Topples Exclusive

Actor Tony Danza will return to the big screen next year in the latest Batman update from director Christopher Nolan.

Danza, primarily known to audiences for his role as boxer-turned-cabbie Tony on the television series "Taxi" and his subsequent role as boxer-turned-housekeeper Tony on "Who's the Boss," will reportedly play a character named Tony, a former boxer who is orphaned in his mid-50s when his elderly parents (Abe Vigoda, Betty White) die of natural causes a few months apart. His story catches the attention of Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale), who subsequently takes Tony under his wing.

"I do worry some about [the tone]," Nolan said at a press conference Friday. "The last one turned out a lot darker than I had intended, and I wanted to find a way to introduce some lighter elements while still propelling the story forward. Tony gives me a perfect way to do that. This will be a film my children can watch."

The new character is expected to fit into the main storyline in a sidekick capacity, as well as in a subplot featuring Wayne's valet Alfred (Michael Caine). In the latter, Alfred is resentful of the new living arrangement and begins acting out. His bickering with Tony escalates, and the two draw a line down the middle of stately Wayne Manor to divide the mansion in two, one half for Alfred and one half for Tony. Both sides soon realize that the situation is less than ideal: Alfred has access to the Batcave, but Tony has the kitchen. The two eventually learn to work together, and even become friends. Nolan has admitted that some elements of this plot owe a debt to Neil Simon's The Odd Couple and 1970s American television.

"This is about storytelling," Nolan said. "Batman is an American icon. So is Tony Danza. The pairing of the two really allows me to add elements of American situation comedies to the film, which was my intention from the start."

For his part of the main storyline, Danza will play a costumed sidekick, also named Tony. In spite of his past as a boxer, it is rumored that the character is more reliant on clever quips than his fists. If true, the film would feature the first non-Robin sidekick relationship in a Batman film since 1993's pairing with Dustin Hoffman in Batman/Rainman, in which the duo team up to stop Clayface, who has kidnapped the autistic savant's brother. While critically acclaimed, the film failed to break even and allegedly led to Michael Keaton's departure as Batman.

"Christian brings a certain amount of anger, especially when he's in the suit. He can be a little terrifying. Tony can comment on these things, on behalf of the audience. He can say 'look, relax, this is just one of the henchmen. There's no need to be so angry all the time.' His influence on Bruce Wayne can help to stabilize the character."

While former Batman director Tim Burton was unavailable for comment, another former director of the franchise, Joel Schumacher, applauded the move.

News in brief

Summer begins at 1:06pm today. So enjoy that.

Wes Craven is suing Pauly Shore. I did not read further.

The AFI released their new list of the top 100 films from the last 100 years. The top ten are:
1. "Citizen Kane," 1941.
2. "The Godfather," 1972.
3. "Casablanca," 1942.
4. "Raging Bull," 1980.
5. "Singin' in the Rain," 1952.
6. "Gone With the Wind," 1939.
7. "Lawrence of Arabia," 1962.
8. "Schindler's List," 1993.
9. "Vertigo," 1958.
10. "The Wizard of Oz," 1939.
Take that, all other films.

Please stop talking about Rosie O'Donnell. Nobody wins.

Yoko Ono is thinking of writing a memoir. I hope she tells the story about how she sold that cow for $200,000.

Hasbro is making a Stan Lee action figure. Perfect for wooden cameos when you re-enact Marvel comics movies at home.

*****

That is all. Hope my Google hits don't go nuts.

A television review, plus or minus 32 years

Minx yelled at me for not posting this week. It wasn't entirely intentional. I doubt I've missed five days in a row since I began blogging, but I have spent a lot of my week avoiding my normal routines.

I realize that recently I warned that I might be blogging more, but then I also have to recall that every time I've said I'll be away from the blog for a bit, I've been back almost immediately. It seems I do the opposite of my intentions when it comes to blogging sometimes. If anyone besides Minx noticed, I apologize.

I've also been avoiding my novel for the most part, letting it go to see if I can gain a small amount of perspective. That seems to have worked pretty well for me, and now one of my secondary characters, who I was thinking of eliminating completely, has suddenly revealed that she has a story to tell as well, and I broke into it today, getting down 3,000 words in a nice period that felt like maybe 20 minutes but was actually more than three hours. It's nice when it comes like that.

*****

Longtime Blogreaders will already be aware that Lorne Michaels, producer of Saturday Night Live, is a reader of this blog. He was turned on to it by Conan O'Brien back in September.

Since he was a fan of my early stuff here, I thought I might repay the favor by watching the first season of Saturday Night Live. It's interesting to watch the show develop from a more free-form thing into the more or less standard format it has had for most of its run. While a lot of it is dated, there are plenty of jokes and bits that are still funny today.

The first show was hosted by George Carlin, who never interacted with the regular cast at all. He just did stand-up bits throughout the show. At one point, he asked "Do you ever look at the crowds in old movies and wonder if they're dead yet?" Watching the crowd behind him, and mindful of the more than 30 years that have passed since the first broadcast, I was certainly wondering that from that point on.

And it sure is weird to watch then-President Ford's Press Secretary Ron Nessen (the host for an April broadcast) introduce a young and feral Patti Smith, sounding for all the world like he knew who she was and maybe even loved Horses.

Jim Henson and his Muppets (but not Kermit or any of the ones you'd recognize from The Muppet Show) were a regular feature that first season, as were short films by Albert Brooks. This kind of stuff never made it into the syndication versions I've seen of some of these episodes. Nor did some of the weirder musical performances, dancers, and comedians who were on a lot. Andy Kaufman had several routines in the first season. Some episodes featured two or more musical guests, my favorite from a juxtaposition standpoint was ABBA and Loudon Wainwright III.

The second episode is nearly entirely musical, with host Paul Simon even doing a short reunion
set with Art Garfunkel. Seems like they were hedging their bets on the comedy or the cast being much of a hit.

Don't worry, I won't be posting a review of any other decades-old television for at least the near future. It's just that I watched a lot of those this week, and had nothing compelling to blog about.

Except that the deal for the new Mahtmobile is on hold for now. I'll have to make do with my rustbucket for a while longer.

Shakespeare sketch

Shakespeare sketch with Hugh Laurie and Rowan Atkinson. Part of my ongoing efforts to prove to my American friends that Mr. Laurie had a rather interesting comedic career before House.

S-Jo

I read recently that Scarlett Johannson (Ghost World, Lost in Translation) is planning to put out a record.

My first thought was of Jennifer Lopez, who was starting to become interesting as an actress, and then churned out an album of pre-fab "music" which sold a ton of copies and she never did anything interesting again. She did Selena and Out of Sight before her record, and The Wedding Planner, Gigli and Monster-in-Law after. 'Nuff said.

But this might be a bit different. 22-year-old Johannson is recording an entire album of Tom Waits covers. Which is both ambitious and potentially cool. And I'm told that she can actually sing.

I'm guessing she's going to avoid the more raucously weird stuff and concentrate on his ballads. "Innocent When You Dream" or "Hold On" over "Fillipino Box Spring Hog" or "Earth Died Screaming." Maybe she'll do one or two of his monologue songs as well. And she's putting it out on Rhino, which has indie cred. So maybe she's doing this because she likes to sing and she likes Tom Waits songs. In which case, good for her.

And Scarlett, if you read The Moon Topples, I can tell you that "Chocolate Jesus" translates quite nicely into a jazzy little number which is ridiculously easy to sing for those of us who shop for our microphones in the "husky" section.

In other news, the guitarist left Duran Duran, a mere 20 years after most of us thought they broke up. Reese Witherspoon broke up with her husband, I guess because she has an Oscar now. And Saw 4 will be out next Halloween. Thank goodness. I was so worried they'd stop at 3. So many unanswered questions. Like why do they keep greenlighting sequels before there's even a script?

Is it possible I did this post to have an excuse to look at a bunch of pics of Scarlett Johannson to accompany it? And that I just tacked on that last paragraph of "entertainment news" to cover my tracks?

Well, I suppose anything's possible.

The Diarist

I was reading Vanity Fair the other day and saw them refer to Dominick Dunne as a "diarist."

My first thought was "Diarist? That's not a job..."

But I guess in his case it is. For those of you who do not know his work, he's mostly famous for writing slightly fictionalized crime books wherein the rich and famous are accused of murder. He was a producer in Hollywood a long time ago (The Panic in Needle Park and other films), and I guess began writing these books after his Hollywood life had dried up and then something terrible happened to his daughter. The accused, someone who had money and influence, went free.

When I first read his books (in my early 20s), I thought his tales came from a place of outrage, with a dash of justice-seeking. But as I read more, I started to get the sense that he's just an average guy, in love with the idea of celebrity, money and power. My guess is that he likes the crime angle because it casts him in an unassailable morally advantageous position. Having perhaps been rejected by those he may have considered his betters in his first go-round, he now delights in having the ear of the likes of Nancy Reagan during high-profile murder trials. He loves chronicling the fall of others. And he's not alone. Many of his books have been adapted into successful TV movies.

Nowadays he keeps a public diary in the pages of Vanity Fair, detailing celebrity in and out of the courtroom. He really loves to drop names.

He is also the father of the legitimately talented Griffin Dunne, the actor and writer.

Dunne's motives and such aside, diarist is still not a job title one hears often. And it occurred to me that keeping a blog is much the same as keeping a public diary. So I guess if I made my living off of this site that I, too, could call myself a diarist.

But I suspect everyone else would still call me a blogger.

The Guest Star

I'm still sick, but have a project due soon, so I dragged the files into bed with me. For background noise, I switched the television box to its "ON" setting, then altered the "channel" until I ended up on channel 23, which they call "ME-TV," and which runs old shows ranging from the Burns and Allen to Mad About You. It was on this station that I found The Facts of Life the other day.

I sometimes find this station fun to watch when most of my attention is elsewhere because you can often find actors on their way up the Hollywood ladder before they commanded enough respect not to have to take these gigs. You can also, it seems, catch stars on their way back down the ladder, as I discovered flipping through last week and discovering a Charlie's Angels with Jim Backus and Phil Silvers in the middle of a ridiculously complicated plot involving the kidnapping of ice dancers so that they'll be replaced with agents of a group with an eye on assassinating some Arab leaders during the oil embargo. Or something.

First up today was an episode of 21 Jumpstreet with an appearance by an enormous-haired Brad Pitt. Although he was a series regular, and therefore not quite germaine to the post topic, it was interesting to watch Johnny Depp before he had much skill as well. The episode was a rather heavy-handed look at teenage suicide. Pitt had a small appearance as a kid who gets mad when someone jokes about the recent suicide of his girlfriend's brother. I had never seen the show when it was on in the first place, so I felt a little stupid leaving it on.

A show I did used to watch (albeit when I was nine) came next: The A Team. It began with the time-honored drugging of Mr. T in order to get him on an airplane. The story centered on a group of New York small businesses who were being shaken down for "insurance" money by local toughs. Yaphet Kotto (the real-life son of a king, and who had already appeared in Roots and Alien) played the crime boss who needs to be taught a lesson. For some reason, this guest spot does not appear on his IMDB listing, but Pitt's episode of Jumpstreet is on his.

A side note to those of you thinking of starting a protection racket: Try to avoid some of the mistakes made by Kotto's crew. They were taking so much money from the shopkeepers that the owner of the bakery confessed to Hannibal, "We don't have enough money left to stay open for another month." If you're gonna take money in exchange for not wrecking people's shops, you need to leave them enough money to continue operating their businesses. Aside from the possibility that this will help you avoid a run-in with the A Team, it also protects your source of income for the future. You really need to think long-term. I cannot stress this enough.

I later caught an episode of Alias on another station which featured Office creator and all-around comedy darling Ricky Gervais as a bombmaker seeking revenge.

Capped the day by watching Hugh Laurie host Saturday Night Live. Not nearly as funny as I'd hoped. They really didn't use him very well, which is weird considering A Bit of Fry and Laurie was one of the funniest sketch shows I've ever seen. I'm betting Mr. Laurie isn't at fault. At least House will be back this week.

So it was kind of a surreal day, tv-wise. It is my fervent wish that I will stop being sick soon, and that this will be the last television post for a while.

Because Rich hates Pat Benatar

This is for you, buddy.

She told me that we belong, and that we were running with the shadows of the night. Eyes clear, she urged me to hit her with my best shot, because she was invincible. Then she laughed, throwing back her tiny elfin head.

She whispered many promises in the dark that night. She came on like a flame, then she turned a cold shoulder. She was fire and ice.

When I left her, she called me a heartbreaker and said that from now on "my clone sleeps alone."

I still don't know what she meant by that.

Willie Update

That guy is all class. Even after all the trouble I caused, he still approved me as a "friend" on MySpace.

Popeye urges switch to cans

Cartoon legend Popeye the Sailor Man has stepped back into the limelight to urge Americans to avoid eating fresh spinach during the current E. coli crisis.

In a statement released early Tuesday, the beloved former sailor and character actor said: "I donsk usually takes a stands on currensk evenskses, buts I knews I couldnst stays quiet while Ameriscans are sufferink. But a boycott isnsk the answer."

Popeye, who began his film career in 1933, has made few appearances in public since his retirement in 1988. A former spokesman for the spinach industry, Popeye has long incorporated the leafy green into his films and his personal life, believing it gave him strength. He switched to canned spinach in 1927 after a similar health scare involving fresh spinach. His faith in the powers of spinach bordered on superstition, and he often claimed that without it he would grow weak as a baby, a recurring theme in his work. Often in his films, Popeye would be saved from a threat only by a well-placed can of spinach.

His statement went on to say that no one should feel they must go without spinach, and stressed that the canning process eliminates the risk of E. Coli. Although no longer an official spokesman for spinach, he stressed that he still eats it daily.

"Itsk what made me whadd I yam," he said, adding: "Strong to the finish! Ack-ak-ak-ak-ak!"

Bloodshot Eyes Crying In The Rain

I mentioned Saturday that Willie Nelson is stoned a lot. I thought this was common knowledge, but perhaps I was wrong, because within 48 hours of my post, Mr. Nelson was busted for marijuana possession.

The Fuzz, acting on the information I inadvertently provided them and a vague, anonymous report of an incident involving a "Red-Headed Stranger," (c'mon, that could be anyone!) seized some of dope and also some of the shrooms from his bus.

Nelson has long used euphamisms such as "cowboy" to describe people who, like him, toke on reefer.

In 1999, he was widely quoted as saying that his heroes "have always been 'cowboys,'" a statement contradicted by recent public service messages encouraging mothers to never "let their babies grow up to be 'cowboys,'" in which he and singer Waylon Jennings listed some of the negative effects of the drug.

Reached for comment, Nelson said "Marijuana is 'Always on My Mind,' especially now that I'm 'On the Road Again.'" After a fit of giggles which lasted almost six minutes, Nelson shouted "To All the Girls I've Loved Before," and declined to comment further.

Because his arrest is partially my fault, I suppose now I should point out that John Bolton really loves cocaine. That's why his moustache is bright white but his hair isn't. Go get him!

Our Mr. Nelson is gonna need some help with legal expenses, so click below to buy one of his albums and help him out.

I'm sorry, Willie. I guess I know which way you're gonna go on my request to be your friend on MySpace, and I totally understand.

I have famous "friends"

I was updating my MySpace page (click if you wanna hear me sing, and the fine guitar work of my friends Craig and Ian) and I started to feel bad that I had very few "friends" so I started poking around and ended up asking a bunch of musicians I like to be my "friend."

So far, eight of them have said yes! It's interesting to pick up little clues as to which artists actually log onto these pages themselves. You can also learn little things about the artists themselves. Michael Penn, for instance, was up very late last night, and didn't even view my profile before accepting me as his friend. He's so trusting. And Bettie Serveert logged in at what must have been pretty early in the morning in the Netherlands, and did take the time to both view my profile and listen to a song. Tanya Donnely actually accepted my invitation within an hour, which seems to indicate she doesn't have a whole lot occupying her on Friday nights right now.

I guess I should have put famous in quotes in the subject line, since these are pretty much indie folk, some of whom haven't even been exactly high-profile even in the indie scene for a number of years.

Now I know some of you are thinking that these MySpace pages set up by artists are little more than an expansion of their marketing machines. I have no idea how you came to be so jaded. Shame on you. Some of these, notably Juliana Hatfield and Tanya Donnely, seem to be run and checked by the artists themselves. Others, like Jenny Lewis and New Pornographers, are clearly manned by flunkies. In all cases, the rule seems to be that they will accept anyone as a friend. Weird how some of these people are sort of standoffish in person.

There are also pages for people like Johnny Cash and Elliott Smith. As much as I might admire them or love their music, I don't want to befriend the dead. I do have some rules. Willie Nelson's page lists Johnny Cash's page as a friend, though, which does make some sort of sense, although in a kind of weird way. Maybe he hasn't heard about Johnny yet. He is stoned a lot.

But I figure that when people I know view my page, they can be exposed to some music I like, and if I get any flow from the artists' pages, maybe some new people can hear the songs I have up there.

A special shout-out has to go to the two friends on my page who are actually friends of mine in real life: ccmuse and Cassandra Herself, who are lovely people, virtuous and true. Not that I have time for them anymore, what with all the important artist friends I've been making. We just don't move in the same circles anymore.

I'm gonna have all of my new "friends" record stuff for my next album, and it'll be sweet. Surely they'll be happy to help out a "friend." Maybe Michael Penn will produce my little supergroup.

After I was done making new "friends," I decided to try to find some old ones. Through MySpace and/or Google, I was able to find info or an email address on at least four people with whom I'd like to resume communication. Which, if you think about it, would likely double the amount of actual friends I have. (Don't worry, gentle reader: of course I count you as a friend.) I've gotten emails from two people I haven't seen or heard much from since high school already, which is kind of nice. I'm curious to see what shapes their lives have taken, what they're doing now and all that.

If things go well, maybe I'll introduce them to my new "friends."

The Sleep Zone

I had a dream last night in which Martin Sheen chastized me for not pursuing acting any more. So there's that. He seemed really upset about it. IMDB tells me he's been arrested over 70 times (mostly in protests) and that he played both the role of Praxis on Total Recall: The Series and that of the Soul Hunter on Babylon 5. I think he was wearing a tuxedo for some reason, while judging my life choices. Fucker.

He looked like he does now, but I this was the best "haunting" picture I could find.

In other entertainment news, R.E.M. will be playing a show or at least appearing with original drummer Bill Berry at some thing in Georgia. And the front page of the Sun Times carried tidings of Beyonce's birthday on what I can only hope was an extremely slow news day. Yet another Lost cast member was arrested on a traffic charge in Hawaii. And House kicked off its third season tonight, with him running eight miles on his newly (temporarily?) healed leg. Non-sequitur follows.

The word nix is the only word I can think of which is all but dead in actual usage, but still reasonably common in Pig Latin. If you ask an average waitron to "nix the toast" on your order, he/she will look at you in puzzlement. Say to the same waitron "ix-nay on the oast-tay," and he/she will look at you like you're nuts. But will not bring you the toast. Go figure.

Obviously this isn't important. I just think it's weird. Like how we call a run of a tv show a "season," even though they typically run from fall until spring. Whereas in Britain, they have much shorter runs (typically 6 to 13 episodes) which can easily fit into an actual season, that they call a "series." So now I'm back on England.

Off I go to bed. I wonder what Martin Sheen will be wearing tonight...

Conan O'Brien loves my blog

I was flipping channels and caught Conan O'Brien on Charlie Rose. I'll admit that he didn't mention my blog specifically, but while talking about hosting the Emmys this weekend, he mentioned the week of shows he did here in Chicago earlier this year. Nothing all that strange yet.

While he was talking about being in Chicago, they showed a clip of one of the shows he did here, where he was interviewing John C. Reilly. In Chicago. Much like my first post.

Showing that the same post was still on his mind, he talked about what it was like being a writer for SNL, which is where Horatio Sanz works, a man who is also mentioned in the post.

Then Charlie Rose asked him about what tv shows he likes, and he started raving about House, M.D., and how good Hugh Laurie is. He just went on and on, thus proving he had continued reading what I was posting.

Coincidences? Oh, I think not.

I wasn't in the room for the whole show, but I'm guessing they taped it Wednesday or early Thursday, so he may not have gotten to the subsequent posts. I'm sure he'll mention astrology, the internet and employment during the Emmys on Sunday.

So thank you, Conan O'Brien. I'm a fan of yours, too. Keep reading.

I hope John C. Reilly washes his hands

Ian called me up at the last minute with tickets to go see Tom Waits recently. Since he hadn't come to town in something like seven years, I agreed to the obscene ticket price and we were off.

Standing in the will-call line for an hour or so. The girl in front of us worked for the Reader, and had just finished a profile of Mr. Waits. She was able to confirm the rumor that a box set of unreleased stuff was going to make an appearance this October.

I thought I saw Horatio Sanz from SNL walking by, and pointed him out to Ian, who thought I should've said hello. Since the only things I might've said were: "Why can't you get through a sketch without laughing?" or "Why aren't you funny?" I opted to remain quiet.

Later, inside, I got a better look at the guy, standing with some friends near the stairs. I was in the middle of telling Ian "Oh, it is the fat guy from SNL," when I noticed he was looking at me, so I kinda hope he can't read lips.

The show started. Last time I saw Tom Waits I was quickly mesmerized, and stayed that way until he was done. This time it faded during the first batch of songs, and I was a little distracted before he even wheeled out the piano. The guitarist was playing über-slick blues riffs, like he had just stopped by from Eric Clapton soundalike school, and it was sort of distracting.

After a couple of hours, I decided to risk going out for a cigarette. They had "No Re-entry" signs on every available surface, but when I got to the Atrium, there were about 30 security and off-duty service staff hanging around, doing nothing but chatting with each other. I figured one of them would agree to let me back in, but every single one of them said no, so I wandered around the closed bar for a couple of minutes.

I spotted actor John C. Reilly (Chicago, Boogie Nights, every other movie made in the last five years or so, etc.) coming up the stairs. I told him I didn't want to hassle him, but wanted to say that I was a fan and I shook his hand before moving off down the stairs myself. That's when I realized he was coming out of the men's room when I happened upon him.

After washing my hands, I went out for a smoke and waited outside until the show ended about 20 minutes later. Met a girl who had spent $800 for her and her friend to be able to attend, which made me feel an awful lot better about spending $84 each for our seats.