James Woods plays a pot-smoking lawyer, a former civil-rights champion who is persuaded by idealistic apprentice Robert Downey, Jr. to take on a tough case involving a Korean-American prison inmate. Watch True Believer for free by clicking here.
© 2010-2026 grouchyeditor.com (text only)
I am of two minds whenever Rick Santorum’s daughter, Elizabeth, stands beside the candidate on a stage. Part of me thinks, “Awww — how sweet. She looks like a nice girl, and she’s supporting her father.” The other part of me thinks, “My eyes! My eyes! God, someone hand me the remote before I go blind!”
*****
Now that Dennis Kucinich’s congressional career is over, the 65-year-old Democrat will have more time to spend with his granddaughter, 34-year-old Elizabeth. They’ll be able to share olive sandwiches while grandpa helps Elizabeth with her homework.
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Entertainment Weekly dedicates this week’s cover to design director Amid Capeci, who recently died after a battle with cancer. The cover depicts Mad Men’s Don Draper — smoking a cigarette.
No comment.
*****
There are three good reasons to watch Saturday Night Live: Kristen Wiig, Bill Hader (above), and the “Weekend Update.” Everything else suffers from lousy writing and a subpar cast.
*****
Remember the ad that Hillary Clinton used during her presidential campaign — “It’s 3 a.m. … who do you want answering the phone?” This is Newt Gingrich dozing off last week during a speech by Defense Secretary Leon Panetta. Evidently, it might be a bad idea to call Newt at 3 a.m., or 3 p.m., or 10 a.m., or 10 p.m., or ….
*****
This is why the cameramen for CBS’ Survivor love their jobs:
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I was watching Wheel of Fortune and I decided that we’ll be lucky if aliens from another world never see this show. If I was Mork from Ork and sat down to watch this crap, I would conclude that Earthlings are certifiably insane.
Wheel has a host who makes idiotic chit-chat with strangers and repeats things like “R, S, T, L, N, E” and “Would you like to buy a vowel?” Then there is his co-host, who smiles vapidly and turns letters on a board. Both of them, compared to their fellow Earthlings, are fabulously wealthy. Meanwhile, ordinary Earthlings who are lucky enough to be on the show fawn over their hosts and jump up and down, squealing like castrated hogs whenever their names are called.
If you were Mork from Ork, would you want to make contact with these Earthlings? I don’t believe so. I believe you’d consider blowing up the planet.
© 2010-2026 grouchyeditor.com (text only)
by Arthur Marx
Arthur Marx (Groucho’s son) wrote this tell-all, an odd-but-compelling mix of typical showbiz biography and lurid sex anecdotes about the famous comedian.
The Good: I loved the showbiz stories, and they are legion in this book because Hope’s career spanned 1920s vaudeville to 1990s television. Despite the unflattering tales of Hope’s adulterous affairs (also legion), Marx’s reporting seems fair and balanced. For every unsavory sex episode, there are examples of the entertainer’s outstanding philanthropy. Hope is a fascinating subject and Marx sheds light on much – but not all – of his life.
The Bad: Even though I gobbled up those show-biz tales, there might be a few too many of them. Marx covers nearly every benefit, tour, movie, radio show, and airplane ride of Hope’s storied career. Some of Marx’s critical allegations would benefit from footnotes, which are conspicuously missing. The book’s editing and proofreading are horrendous – or nonexistent.
The Verdict: When I finished the book, I had a strong desire to watch Hope at his best in some of his 1940s Paramount pictures. But I was also disillusioned by his hypocrisy and embarrassing career windup – pretty much everything he appeared in from 1960 until his death at age 100 was dreadful. If you idolize Hope the man, this book will shatter your illusions. Yes, Hope’s USO tours are legendary – but so are his adulterous flings, misogyny, right-wing politics, and miserliness.
© 2010-2026 grouchyeditor.com (text only)
Most movies based on Stephen King books are pretty crappy, but 1983’s Cujo delivers some decent thrills. Check out the anti-Lassie free of charge by clicking here.
© 2010-2026 grouchyeditor.com (text only)
Oscar Musings
Emcee Billy Crystal: hokey, corny, boring
Angelina Jolie’s Leg: more weird than sexy
Biggest Oscar Crime: snubbing the final Harry Potter film (and the entire series, actually)
Saddest Attention Grabs: a tie between Sacha Baron Cohen’s lame “accident” with Ryan Seacrest, and poor, pathetic Sean Young’s post-ceremony arrest
OK, so no one will see The Artist, and television ratings plummet when films like it win Best Picture. I still think that’s better than awarding the top Oscar to populist junk like Titanic.
*****
I don’t say this often, but I couldn’t agree more with two of the panelists on Fox’s The Five. Bob Beckel and Greg Gutfeld on Monday went after the idiots in Rocklin, California, who are considering a ban on smoking in citizens’ … own yards! Beckel and Gutfeld also belittled the “studies” we see regarding the alleged dangers of second-hand smoke, labeling them a sham. It’s this kind of enlightened commentary that keeps me tuned to Fox — at least occasionally.
*****
Sometimes it’s hard to pick sides. I don’t much care for Sandra Fluke, the law student who comes off as an entitled whiner seeking government freebies. I don’t much care for Rush Limbaugh who is, as we all know, a big fat idiot. And I suspect that President Obama’s phone call to Fluke was a political ploy designed to appeal to female voters.
Everyone just needs to stop having sex, and then this issue will go away.
*****
Cable News Irony of the Week:
MSNBC’s Rachel Maddow explained, for Limbaugh’s benefit, how birth control works. Wait … Rachel Maddow knows about birth control?
*****
Asshole of the Week: Judge Mark Martin
Pennsylvania Judge Mark Martin has no interest in the Constitution or free speech.
Martin, displaying an appalling lack of knowledge about his own country and its laws, dismissed an assault case against an Islamic idiot who attacked a man dressed up as “Muhammad zombie” for a Halloween parade. “I think our forefathers intended to use the First Amendment so we can speak with our mind, not to piss off other people and cultures — which is what you did,” Martin told the man who was attacked.
So, according to this judicial font of wisdom, the next time you “piss off” someone with your words, he or she will be fully justified in assaulting you.
Martin has pissed off me and many others, so I assume we can now assault him with impunity — as long as the resulting case winds up in this fool’s own court.
*****
Some wiseass couldn’t resist commenting when news broke about the death of Monkee Davy Jones:
© 2010-2026 grouchyeditor.com (text only)
by Katherine Boo
Katherine Boo’s Behind the Beautiful Forevers is in many ways an astonishing piece of work. Yet it’s also the type of “nonfiction” narrative that triggers nagging doubts (thanks a lot, James Frey).
The good. Boo spent three years recording the lives of slum-dwellers at Annawadi, a squalid settlement adjacent to fancy tourist hotels and Mumbai’s international airport. Boo avoids sentiment and, in depicting a world so harsh, unforgiving, and corrupt, has no need to embellish the facts. (But does she? See below.) She uncovers a small slice of poverty and in the process sheds volumes of light on income inequality in India.
The suspect. Imagine this: A group of male street-toughs, all of them teenage thieves or scavengers, are gathered on a corner. They discuss the sort of things that young boys discuss: girls, music, movies. They spot a white woman who is middle-aged, well-educated, privileged – and American. “Hey lady,” say the boys, “come join us and we’ll share our secrets and dreams with you, and treat you like just one of the guys.” See the problem? And yet Boo manages to probe the innermost thoughts and dreams of these kids. Great journalism, or creative license?
In an author’s note, Boo proffers a fairly convincing explanation of the techniques she used to get Indians like those boys to open up. In a separate interview, Boo calls narrative nonfiction “a selective art.” That leaves the reader with a choice: buy into the reporter’s “selective art” … or not.
© 2010-2026 grouchyeditor.com (text only)
Brad Pitt lost in the competition for Best Actor at last night’s Oscars, but after his wife Angelina Jolie made a show of flashing her thigh to television viewers, I doubt that many people felt sorry for him. Check out this early Pitt movie, a scenic drama directed by Robert Redford.
© 2010-2026 grouchyeditor.com (text only)
Watching Bill O’Reilly struggle on Saturday Night Live, I was reminded of how much we 1) take professional actors and comics for granted, and 2) should discourage other people — politicians, athletes, and journalists, mostly — from accepting “acting” roles, no matter how small the part.
O’Reilly was stiff and self-conscious on SNL (above, hiding behind an elbow). But I don’t think anyone will ever surpass Brett Favre’s wooden performance in There’s Something About Mary (below).
*****
Oscar Predictions:
Unlike last year, I haven’t seen a lot of this year’s nominees. That’s my excuse if the following picks are wrong. Nevertheless, this is what I gather from Hollywood scuttlebutt:
Best Picture, Director, and Actor will all go to The Artist. Actress — Viola Davis. Supporting Actor — Christopher Plummer. Supporting Actress — Octavia Spencer.
*****
Survivor’s new season began last week, and that’s no longer a big deal. But I don’t think that this venerable time-waster of a show gets enough credit (or blame) for its influence on the television landscape. Yeah, yeah, I know that MTV’s The Real World was the first American “reality series.” But nobody watched The Real World. And yes, American Idol dominated ratings for the past decade. But Idol is really nothing new; it’s just an update of old variety shows like Star Search.
But 12 years ago, wow. Survivor’s first season finale attracted a whopping 58 million viewers. The show was on the cover of Time magazine. Richard Hatch (above) was a household name. So hats off to you, Survivor.
*****
The Grouch was bored and so he created a blog featuring his odd short stories. If you’d like to read these twisted tales, drop him a line at grouch@grouchyeditor.com.
*****
Quote of the Week:
Reporter to Clint Eastwood: “Mr. Eastwood, who’s your favorite president of all time?”
Eastwood: “You mean in our lifetime?”
Geez, Clint, not all of us have been around since the 18th century.
*****
Who is Jeremy Lin? According to the editor of Entertainment Weekly, “The mass affection for Lin — a Taiwanese-American national treasure — says something good about us.”
Who is Jeremy Lin? He’s a rich basketball pro who played well for a couple of weeks. His New York team is below average and has a losing record. Lin is not likely the second coming of Michael Jordan.
But if you are looking for evidence of an East Coast bias in the news media, look no further than these clowns proclaiming to the rest of us that a slightly above-average basketball player who just happens to play in New York is someone’s idea of a “national treasure.”
*****
This Finnish dude who was caught staring at Princess Mary of Denmark, or part of Princess Mary — can we really blame him? I’d never heard of this woman, but now we have Google and so here is a royal picture of royal Mary at the beach:
© 2010-2026 grouchyeditor.com (text only)
It’s an irresistible concept: Natalie Portman, in her first movie, playing a 12-year-old girl who, after her family is slaughtered by crooked DEA agents, hooks up (no … not like that) with her neighbor – a professional hit man played by European star Jean Reno. Watch it for free by clicking here.
© 2010-2026 grouchyeditor.com (text only)
by Elmore Leonard
When it comes to crime fiction, there seem to be two types of consumers: fans who want Martin Scorsese to keep making mob movies until the day he swims with the fishes, and who gobble up books like Elmore Leonard’s “tough-guy” novels; and people who enjoy a good gangster story – but only to a certain point. There’s no question that Leonard is a skilled writer, especially with pacing, but a little bit of his clichéd bad-guys routine goes a long way with me. I don’t automatically smile because the hero has a Brooklyn accent, and I’m not on tenterhooks because the characters carry guns.
And Leonard’s female characters? The main woman in Get Shorty is thinly drawn and exists primarily to lust after our “cool” hero, a loan shark who goes Hollywood and who barely has to lift a finger to attract her and (the few) other women in the story. But if you love this tough-guy stuff, well, then this is a book for you.
© 2010-2026 grouchyeditor.com (text only)
