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11Feb

The Weekly Review: February 5 – 11

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In the third quarter of Sunday’s Super Bowl, NBC’s Al Michaels brushed back a tear (presumably) and informed viewers that the Patriots wanted to win the big game for team owners the Kraft family. It was a touching moment. Never mind New England fans; the Pats wanted to win for their multi-millionaire owners.

Earlier, New England quarterback Tom Brady had this to say about Myra Hiatt Kraft, who recently died: “She is a woman who has been smiling down on us over the course of this season.”

I guess Mrs. Kraft decided not to smile down on the Pats during the Super Bowl and instead switched channels to Downton Abbey. Meanwhile, Brady’s genteel wife, the supermodel Gisele Bundchen, wasn’t smiling either. Gisele did urge fucking fans to fucking pray for the fucking Patriots.

*****

Speaking of Downton Abbey, is it possible that the series is already jumping the shark? Plot developments in the show’s second season have been worrisome. One episode threatened to turn into a World War I version of Glee, with cast members gathered round a piano and breaking into song. And there were not one, but two tear-jerking bedside vigils for wounded soldiers.

When Saturday Night Live decides it’s time to lampoon your show, which it did to Downton last week, it could signal the beginning of the end.

*****

MSNBC’s Andrea Mitchell was “shocked” by revelations about JFK’s salacious, teen-intern-banging ways. Shocked? Where has Mitchell been for the past, oh, 50 years?

But I do feel bad for Andrea’s co-worker, Chris Matthews, who must have lost one of the thrills on his leg when, once again, his presidential idol was exposed as a creepy pervert.

*****

No surprise that viewers are abandoning network television. Judging by the abysmal pilots, NBC’s Smash (above) and ABC’s The River (below) are both crap.

*****

Whenever the curtain falls on some Tinsel Town legend, headlines lament the end of Hollywood’s golden age. This was the case when Liz Taylor died, and again last week when some other acting coot — I forget who — bit the dust. But these declarations about the end of Hollywood golden-agers must come as a surprise to still-breathing icons like Kirk Douglas (95), Olivia de Havilland (95), Mickey Rooney (91), and Joan Fontaine (94) — among others.

*****

Quote of the Week:

“What happens when a film becomes this huge, massive hit and you’re all starting to think you may win an Oscar?”

— CNN’s Piers Morgan, above, to the cast of The Artist when the stars appeared on his show. The Artist, which has been in theaters for months, recently crawled past the $20 million mark at the box office — a mere pittance by Hollywood standards.

*****

An FBI report on Steve Jobs includes some dirt about the much-admired genius, stemming from the 1970s when Jobs was “experimenting with marijuana and LSD.” I guess that when you are a big shot, you don’t “do drugs” or even “take drugs.” No, you “experiment” with drugs, as if Jobs got high while clad in a white lab coat and taking notes in a university classroom.

08Feb

Smokin’ Seventeen

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by Janet Evanovich

These Stephanie Plum novels are like mom’s meatloaf: The ingredients never change, but they still taste good on occasion. The only news from this 17th installment in the series is that “good girl” Stephanie finally stops fantasizing about cheating on longtime boyfriend Morelli – and goes ahead and does it. Several times. Morelli, supposedly an ace cop, either suspects nothing or doesn’t care. Problem is, if he doesn’t care, why should readers?

06Feb

Free Flick of the Week: “Foreign Correspondent”

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Do you dig Alfred Hitchcock’s North by Northwest? Then you might want to check out this 1940 spy thriller from Hitchcock, which some film historians consider a warm-up to his 1959 Cary Grant classic. Click here to watch it free of charge.

06Feb

Cold Prey

Posted in Books, Movies, TV & Web, Guilty Pleasures | 1 Comment

Horror-film addicts will go to great lengths to get their fix, and if that means that we– er, they must travel 4,000 miles to the mountains of Norway, so be it. Because it turns out that hidden somewhere in the icy peaks north of Oslo there is an abandoned ski lodge. And living in that lodge is ….

The Norwegian slasher flick Cold Prey is a lot of fun, but not right away. It begins with a slew of horror-movie clichés: We listen to ominous news reports about missing skiers; we meet a carload of attractive-but-vapid young people on their way to a snowboarding holiday; and, naturally, the kids’ cell phones don’t work.

But if you can make it past those too-familiar opening scenes without throwing your cell phone at the screen, the movie delivers some nifty chills once the youngsters arrive at Jotunheimen, a frigid, beautiful mountain range where Cold Prey was filmed.

After that trite opening, director Roar Uthaug makes some good decisions. For one, he cast Ingrid Bolso Berdal as his heroine. It’s immediately clear that if anyone can survive an upcoming bloodbath, it’s this steely-eyed brunette. Berdal is to Scandinavian psychopaths what Sigourney Weaver is to scaly aliens.

Second, Uthaug tapped Norwegian beauty Viktoria Winge to play the other girl in the small party of stranded snowboarders. Winge is in the movie to suffer a gruesome death — but not before she spends a fair amount of screen time prancing about in skimpy panties. That is, admittedly, odd behavior for a woman stuck in a heatless lodge in the mountains of Norway. But who’s complaining?

You might notice that I haven’t yet described the movie’s plot. You might also have seen one or more of the Friday the 13th flicks, in which case you already know the plot. Plot doesn’t really matter in a film like this; in fact, too much story can be a detriment. What matters are goosebumps. Uthaug sets a leisurely pace as the kids take refuge in a gloomy, 1970s-vintage lodge, exploring its dim hallways and common areas, generating a delicious sense of isolation. The director is also smart enough not to show too much of the killer, too soon.

Cold Prey was a big hit in Scandinavia, spawning two sequels. It’s no classic, but it’s better than most films in the much-maligned slasher genre. And did I mention Viktoria Winge in her panties? Grade: B

Director: Roar Uthaug Cast: Ingrid Bolso Berdal, Rolf Kristian Larsen, Tomas Alf Larsen, Endre Martin Midtstigen, Viktoria Winge, Rune Melby Release: 2006

Watch Trailers (click here)

04Feb

The Weekly Review: January 29 – February 4

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Secretary of Defense Leon Panetta has been in the news. Why, when I see Panetta, am I reminded of the late, great Ed Wynn?

*****

I was thumbing through Entertainment Weekly when a picture on page 32 caught my eye. “Hmmm,” I thought, “I wonder why this photo of pop star Rihanna catches my eye.” Rihanna looked fetching in fishnet stockings as she performed on stage, but then a lot of celebrities have nice-looking legs — even some female celebrities. So why was I struck by this particular picture? Somehow, it seemed familiar.

I did some detective work. And this is what I found in my recent issues of Entertainment Weekly:

Nov. 25: three pictures of Rihanna in a sexy bikini-thingy and fishnet stockings, featured in the “Must List.” On page 68, Rihanna in shorts and fishnet stockings.

Dec. 16: picture of Rihanna in a leotard and fishnet stockings

Dec. 23: Rihanna in the bikini-thingy and fishnets again. And again on page 120.

Jan. 27: Rihanna in fishnets

Feb. 3: Rihanna in fishnets

Someone at Entertainment Weekly really, really likes Rihanna. Or fishnet stockings.

*****

They say that fashion trends begin in Europe. I’m still waiting for this “topless women protestors” look to catch on over here.

*****

The Super Bowl is tomorrow. For the first time in my adult life, I am seriously considering skipping it. I might just watch the latest episode of Downton Abbey, instead … aw, who am I kidding?

*****

Someone at Urban Financial Group thought it was a good idea to have actor Robert Wagner sell “security” to Americans while standing beside a large body of water. No comment.

01Feb

The Ancient Alien Question

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by Philip Coppens

I’ll admit it, this stuff fascinates me: rocks weighing hundreds of tons that our ancestors were somehow able to move; cryptic references to “gods from the heavens” found in many ancient manuscripts; science’s acknowledgment that there is likely life out there in the universe. So when I pick up a book like Coppens’s The Ancient Alien Question, I try to have an open mind. But then ….

There are so many problems with this book. For starters, it should be called The English Language Question. I don’t know if it was poorly translated, edited, or written, but much of it is incomprehensible, crammed with irrelevant (at least to the layman) details about disputes within the scientific community, or dull minutiae, such as the components of old cement. Coppens’s favorite adverb is “clearly,” but there is very little I’d consider “clear” about many of his conclusions.

Consider this example: On page 202, Coppens cites “evidence” that nuclear technology existed in ancient India by quoting an expert named Francis Taylor. On the following page, Coppens writes this: “The first question is whether the named archaeologist Francis Taylor existed. Alas, no one has ever been able to identify him.” In an attempt to confer an air of impartiality and credibility to the author, the publisher’s blurb claims that Coppens is “labeled a skeptic by the believers, and a believer by the skeptics.” Don’t buy it: The man is “clearly” a believer.

It’s too bad this book is such a mess, because there are a lot of mysteries from antiquity, and it seems unlikely that humans could have accomplished some of their amazing feats without help – from someone or something. There must be better books on this subject. Clearly.

30Jan

Free Flick of the Week: “The Train”

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“A top-rate WWII thriller.” “A wholly persuasive, intelligent thriller.” “A landmark picture.” “Classic Frankenheimer WWII actioner with a unique plot.” Yes, you guessed it, I haven’t seen the movie and I am cribbing critical blurbs from Rotten Tomatoes. But they all seem to like it, don’t they? Click here to watch Burt Lancaster in The Train.

p.s. Leonard Maltin says it’s “high-powered excitement all the way.”

29Jan

The Weekly Review: January 22 – 28

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The Oscars are an annual joke — but an entertaining joke. Every year, through sheer luck, the academy manages to nominate some worthy contenders. But mostly it’s a popularity contest worth watching only to giggle at celebrities who are dressed up, nervous, and wearing pasted-on smiles.

Can you tell that I am bitter that Melancholia was shut out of the nominations?

*****

CNN’s Erin Burnett has a tendency to speak first, think later. This can be irritating to watch, but at times it’s refreshing, as when Burnett told lawyer Marc Bern that his attempt to rake in $450 million in punitive damages for six passengers on the ill-fated Carnival cruise ship is “obscene,” and the kind of lawsuit that calls for tort reform.

Burnett was right. I’m sorry that you fell off a ship and had to be rescued, but that should not entitle you to live like Bill Gates for the rest of your life.

*****

It was a downer to witness the media devour one of its own — CNN’s John King — after Newt Gingrich used King to deflect attention from his own political problems during last week’s Republican debate. King asked a relevant question (about Gingrich’s former marriage) on a topic that was in the headlines. Blowhard Newt then feigned “outrage” at King’s temerity. Worse, the media, including King’s colleagues at CNN, then smelled blood and ratings and failed to defend him.

*****

I’m guessing that this ad will not be used as a recruiting tool by America’s creative writing classes:

28Jan

One for the Money

Posted in Books, Movies, TV & Web, Movies | 1 Comment

I’m not sure if this is a boast or a confession, but I have read almost all of Janet Evanovich’s “Stephanie Plum” books. Ten years ago, I would have been proud of that statement, but in recent years, as the quality of the series has declined, well, not so much.

When it was announced that Hollywood was going to produce a movie based on the first book in the Plum series (there are 18 now, plus a few novellas), One for the Money, fans of the franchise should have had two concerns: Would the actress playing bumbling Stephanie, the heart and soul of the books, capture her goofy charisma? And would the film do justice to the screwball comic tone of the novels?

The answer to the first question is “not to worry.” Katherine Heigl, who has a talent for choosing lousy scripts, nails the big three musts for an actress playing Stephanie: She’s the right mix of klutz, good girl, and sex kitten as the Trenton, New Jersey broad who, because of mounting bills and a hungry pet hamster, reluctantly takes a job as a bounty hunter.

Alas, the answer to the second question is, “not so much.” As directed by Julie Anne Robinson, One for the Money is a curiously flat film. There is a scene involving Stephanie and an FTA (“failure to appear” at court), an elderly exhibitionist, that should be hilarious. Instead the sequence, in which Steph transports the wrinkly geezer and his “twig and berries” to police headquarters, is just … peculiar.

The film’s climax, involving dead bodies, gunplay, and the unmasking of a villain, is similarly lifeless. In a movie like this, everything needs to click. It requires pacing and it requires chemistry. It needs to be more like Charade.

The supporting players (of vital importance to fans of the books) range from good enough to “what was the casting director thinking?” Debbie Reynolds, as Grandma Mazur, is OK but no more than that. Lula should have been played by Gabourey Sidibe. Vinnie should have been played by Danny DeVito. The movie should have been better. Grade: C-

Director: Julie Anne Robinson Cast: Katherine Heigl, Jason O’Mara, Daniel Sunjata, John Leguizamo, Sherri Shepherd, Debbie Reynolds, Debra Monk, Nate Mooney, Adam Paul, Ana Reeder Release: 2012

Watch Trailers (click here)

26Jan

Stiffed

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by Susan Faludi

As I read Susan Faludi’s (Backlash) depressing opus about the “crisis” in American manhood, I kept changing my opinion of its author. At times I wanted to laud Faludi for her insightful reporting – and sometimes I wanted to throttle her for general cluelessness. As a former journalist, I appreciate the sheer amount of legwork that went into her book. She interviewed scores of men, from construction workers to porn stars, and much of her analysis is thoughtful. But occasionally Faludi adopts the tone of a victor perched atop the pedestal of feminism, sitting subtly and condescendingly in judgment of pitiful males.

Random thoughts:

Faludi’s conclusion is that most American men are unhappy (and resistant to feminism) because their fathers – those heroes of World War II and members of the “greatest generation” – were cold, distant, and silent parents, providing little or no guidance to boys growing up in a consumer culture that rewards image over true worth. I’m sure there is some truth to this theory. But what about all of the mothers – do they make no impact on their sons? Other than in passing, Faludi makes no mention of the mothers.
Feminism, like motherhood, gets a pass from Faludi as a contributing factor to modern male distress. Men who criticize any aspect of the women’s movement are unreasonable, delusional, or scapegoating. Yet I was struck by this assessment of feminism by one of the men Faludi interviewed: “It doesn’t seem to have made anyone very happy.”
I’m not convinced that the average American male is quite as tormented as Faludi would have us believe. But a 600-page volume of interviews with men who are generally content would be an awfully dull read.
Faludi’s final words of advice to men who are unhappy or confused by our Brave New World? “Wage a battle against no enemy.” Great. That helps.