Inglourious Basterds: OK, we've all commented on the spelling in the title, but what about the redundancy? How many "basterds" are glorious? Michael Jordan in his prime, maybe. Thinking about glorious bastards just makes me visualize some Broadway spectacle, with a guy in tights springing across the stage declaring, "I'm a bastard, and I'm GLORIOUS!"
G Force: If you're thinking buying a copy will help Nic Cage's finances, think again: Sadly, he traded his residuals for some prime oceanfront property in Arizona.
The Hangover: This is the funniest movie of the year, man! You HAVE to see it! Hey, I didn't see it yet myself, but I'm just saying this is what "they" say. And you don't want to ignore the collective genius of "they."
George Lopez: Tall, Dark, and Chicano: I like the guy and wish him well, but I tried to watch this concert on HBO and couldn't last 10 minutes.
The Paper Chase Season 2: Shout is still releasing DVDs the regular way...for now, at least. I'm glad this excellent series gets another set.
The New York Yankees 2009 World Series Collectors Edition: OK, Yankee fans, live it up. Enjoy it. New season is just around the corner, though.
Taking Woodstock: Ang Lee's fictionalized account of the landmark rock concert is sure to stir memories both for the thousands who were there and for the millions that claim they were there.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Panel Discussion: Superman hates Snapper Carr
Another panel from the classic Justice League of America #15, this one near the end. As Snapper irritates the gang with his faux hipster chat, all the heroes indulge him and not only refrain from using their collective powers and wisdom to hurl him into the sun...they smile!
Well, all the heroes except one. Look at Superman's mug as Snapper bugs the JLA:
Is it possible someone redrew a Superman face over Mike Sekowsky's original pencils? I don't know. Is it possible the big guy just had a bad Kryptonian Llama Burrito and is feeling the aftereffects? Maybe. But I think the best explanation for Supes' sourpuss is the simplest: He HATES Snapper Carr.
Wonder Woman is clearly annoyed, but Superman is glowering. You just know he's wondering who would miss the boy if he "accidentally" got hurled into the Phantom Zone.
In the next panel, Kal-El looks no more amused by the teenager's idiotic babble:
Even Batman, who must long for Dick Grayson's terrible puns when he hears Snapper's dialect, musters a fake smile. But the Man of Steel just sits there imagining if the Atom would be able to track down Carr if he "somehow" got shrunk and tossed into the bottled city of Kandor.
Well, all the heroes except one. Look at Superman's mug as Snapper bugs the JLA:
Is it possible someone redrew a Superman face over Mike Sekowsky's original pencils? I don't know. Is it possible the big guy just had a bad Kryptonian Llama Burrito and is feeling the aftereffects? Maybe. But I think the best explanation for Supes' sourpuss is the simplest: He HATES Snapper Carr.Wonder Woman is clearly annoyed, but Superman is glowering. You just know he's wondering who would miss the boy if he "accidentally" got hurled into the Phantom Zone.
In the next panel, Kal-El looks no more amused by the teenager's idiotic babble:
Even Batman, who must long for Dick Grayson's terrible puns when he hears Snapper's dialect, musters a fake smile. But the Man of Steel just sits there imagining if the Atom would be able to track down Carr if he "somehow" got shrunk and tossed into the bottled city of Kandor.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Wonderful World of TCM: Double Bogey
Turner Classic Movies is treating all of us to a month of films of the greatest movie star of all time (I'd add "IMHO," but it ain't that humble, and it's my blog, so you kind of expect my opinion, eh?), Humphrey Bogart. Ivan at TDOY is ably covering the festivities, but today I want to touch on two pics I screened this week, both prime examples of Warner Brother's social consciousness in the 1930s.
One Fatal Hour (1936): The best thing about this movie is that it actually is about an hour. Isn't that swell? I maintain that if Warner Brothers had the guts to make "Two Seconds," its 1932 Edward G. Robinson vehicle, two seconds long, it would be acclaimed today as the greatest film of all time.
In "Hour," our man plays a radio station manager named Sherry Scott. Is it any wonder Bogart got frustrated with the direction of his career in the thirties? Nothing against the gents named "Sherry" out there, but as a proud Rick, I'm just glad that the original title of "Casablanca" wasn't "Everybody Comes to Sherry's."
Bogart's station plans a sensationalized account of a notorious murder case, not caring that the woman involved has created a new life and finds that even the announcement of the program scandalizes her and her family, especially her young daughter, a lass who is ignorant of Mom's past and is preparing to marry a nice young man from a snobby old money kind of family. By the way, the killing Mom did was apparently justified, but back in those days, any kind of killing was considered scandalous.
Bogart doesn't have a whole lot to do here except make wise-ass comments about his owner's desire to stage the program. He does it pretty well, though, expressing in no uncertain terms his disgust with the station owner's desire to broadcast the program, and he gets to close the film with a nice blast of rebellion. Much of the film--probably too much--deals with the "oh, this is terrible," hand-wringing of the family as it struggles to block the radio production. It's an entertaining little hourlong flick, though, and one with a valuable message.
MESSAGE: Radio was an inherently medium, an evil endeavor that terrorized America until the advent of television, which never did anyone any harm ever. Today this scandalized family would be much better off because it would get a reality show out of the deal, with a nice movie deal for the daughter.
In "Hour," our man plays a radio station manager named Sherry Scott. Is it any wonder Bogart got frustrated with the direction of his career in the thirties? Nothing against the gents named "Sherry" out there, but as a proud Rick, I'm just glad that the original title of "Casablanca" wasn't "Everybody Comes to Sherry's."
Bogart's station plans a sensationalized account of a notorious murder case, not caring that the woman involved has created a new life and finds that even the announcement of the program scandalizes her and her family, especially her young daughter, a lass who is ignorant of Mom's past and is preparing to marry a nice young man from a snobby old money kind of family. By the way, the killing Mom did was apparently justified, but back in those days, any kind of killing was considered scandalous.
Bogart doesn't have a whole lot to do here except make wise-ass comments about his owner's desire to stage the program. He does it pretty well, though, expressing in no uncertain terms his disgust with the station owner's desire to broadcast the program, and he gets to close the film with a nice blast of rebellion. Much of the film--probably too much--deals with the "oh, this is terrible," hand-wringing of the family as it struggles to block the radio production. It's an entertaining little hourlong flick, though, and one with a valuable message.
MESSAGE: Radio was an inherently medium, an evil endeavor that terrorized America until the advent of television, which never did anyone any harm ever. Today this scandalized family would be much better off because it would get a reality show out of the deal, with a nice movie deal for the daughter.
The Great O'Malley (1937): Pat O'Brien is an overzealous cop who pores through the lawbook (literally--I mean the guy actually spends his free time leafing through an actual New York lawbook) looking for arcane regulations to spring on the scum that terrorizes his city--you know, like the merchant whose awning doesn't meet code, or the guy whose muffler is too loud when he's driving to his first job opportunity in years.
O'Malley the Cop busts the guy with the muffler, holding him up for a few minutes while he tickets him, and wouldn't you know the poor sap misses out on the job. Well, this sap is Bogart, and he has a wife and a crippled daughter at home, and this whole incident really burns him up. He still needs money, so he robs the till at a pawn shop (kind of like that scene at the Grand Canyon in "National Lampoon's Vacation," only with violence, criminal desperation, and more intensity), and winds up in prison. He's essentially caught because of that traffic violation, too, as a witness identifies the car leaving the scene of the robbery and O'Malley recognizes the description.
While Bogey is in the joint, O'Malley lightens up after meeting Bogart's daughter. He's also busted down to school crossing guard, and even there, he's a hard-ass for a while. But eventually, he stops following the exact letter of the law, does some real favors for Bogart...and then something really bad happens due to a misunderstanding when Bogey gets paroled.
We're supposed to think O'Malley is a real jerk--after all, even his superiors on the force tell him so--but, hey, wasn't David Berkowitz nabbed because of a traffic violation? Sometimes sweating the small stuff has benefits, and if you go after the little things, you raise the overall quality of life. Or am I sounding too much like Rudy Giuliani?
If you can handle Pat O'Brien, you can handle--and enjoy--"The Great O'Malley." His character is actually pretty funny, and even when the story piles on the melodrama, it's compelling. Besides, Bogart is in it, and he's fun to watch, especially when he's sprung from the big house and gets all paranoid about O'Malley tailing him. TCM ran this twice recently; next time they air it, you should check it out.
MESSAGE: Cops who actually enforce the law are pains in the ass. Law enforcement needs to just lighten up and live and let live. Oh, and get your muffler fixed already.
O'Malley the Cop busts the guy with the muffler, holding him up for a few minutes while he tickets him, and wouldn't you know the poor sap misses out on the job. Well, this sap is Bogart, and he has a wife and a crippled daughter at home, and this whole incident really burns him up. He still needs money, so he robs the till at a pawn shop (kind of like that scene at the Grand Canyon in "National Lampoon's Vacation," only with violence, criminal desperation, and more intensity), and winds up in prison. He's essentially caught because of that traffic violation, too, as a witness identifies the car leaving the scene of the robbery and O'Malley recognizes the description.
While Bogey is in the joint, O'Malley lightens up after meeting Bogart's daughter. He's also busted down to school crossing guard, and even there, he's a hard-ass for a while. But eventually, he stops following the exact letter of the law, does some real favors for Bogart...and then something really bad happens due to a misunderstanding when Bogey gets paroled.
We're supposed to think O'Malley is a real jerk--after all, even his superiors on the force tell him so--but, hey, wasn't David Berkowitz nabbed because of a traffic violation? Sometimes sweating the small stuff has benefits, and if you go after the little things, you raise the overall quality of life. Or am I sounding too much like Rudy Giuliani?
If you can handle Pat O'Brien, you can handle--and enjoy--"The Great O'Malley." His character is actually pretty funny, and even when the story piles on the melodrama, it's compelling. Besides, Bogart is in it, and he's fun to watch, especially when he's sprung from the big house and gets all paranoid about O'Malley tailing him. TCM ran this twice recently; next time they air it, you should check it out.
MESSAGE: Cops who actually enforce the law are pains in the ass. Law enforcement needs to just lighten up and live and let live. Oh, and get your muffler fixed already.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Brooks on Books: Paul Shaffer's new book is a gas, baby
Thanks to a pal, I was able to read Paul Shaffer's new autobiography, "We'll Be Here for the Rest of Our Lives," and I read it quickly. It's an entertaining book that depicts its author (along with co-writer David Ritz) as pretty much how you want him to be "in real life"--obsessed with showbiz, passionate about music, and best of all, sincere in his insincerity. Is his public persona a send-up? Well, yeah, kind of, but he loves what he mocks, and those of us who enjoy cheesy pop culture can appreciate the notion.
The only thing wrong with this book is it feels a little short, maybe a tad lightweight. No, I don't expect a profound, weighty tome from Paul Shaffer, but this fast read does leave you wishing there were more. Maybe that's just good show business, though. Also, while Shaffer does include touching insights and memories of his parent and of friends like Gilda Radner and John Belushi, it does seem a bit breezy at times. Shaffer and Ritz bounce around a bit in time and are often in and out of topics. Overall, the approach does work, and it creates a fun ride. Still, I was hoping for a little more detail here and there.
I mean, the man has had an incredible career. Take away his work in the recording studio (some might say take away "It's Raining Men," which he wrote, permanently), and his resume still includes the original "SNL," years of late night TV with David Letterman, and his role as musical director for the annual Rock and Roll Hall of Fame concerts. He has been involved with so many cool cultural elements that maybe one book isn't enough to satisfy anyone interested in one aspect. I wanted to read more about just about every part of his career mentioned in the book, but I admit I was pleasantly surprised to read as much as I did about his short-lived sitcom, "A Room at the Top."
The David Letterman experience is particularly elusive here, and anyone hoping for a candid look at "what makes Dave tick?" will be disappointed. In just about every mention of the show or the man, however, Letterman comes off like a great guy and a generous boss.
What you do get in here are a slew of funny anecdotes and hilarious memories of his many years in the entertainment industry, and let's face it, that alone is enough to make this a worthwhile effort. Shaffer doesn't really dish with any negativity on many celebrities. Eric Clapton seems like a bit of an ass, but other than that, there's gossip but not a whole lot of dirt. But, hey, do we want mudslinging Paul or do we want "That's nutty!" Paul?
You get two strong impressions of Paul Shaffer when reading this book: The man loves and lives for music, and the man is a lot more self-aware of his Judaism than you knew (well, at least me). It's fun reading his stories about how early musical influences shaped his life, or how thrilled he was to meet and work with idols like Ray Charles and James Brown. I was a bit surprised to see how prominent his Jewish identity in his sense of self, but it's not like Shaffer is filling his book with religious theory. Instead, he mentions it in context of his early life and his love of showbiz.
This is a no-brainer for fans, and since Shaffer has been a key player in so many different aspects of popular entertainment, it's hard to envision a fan of pop culture not getting some enjoyment out of it. Anyone who thinks they want to read this autobiography will love it. Even if it's not the detailed, no-holds-barred epic one might have dreamed about, it's a fine representation of Paul Shaffer himself. More importantly, it's a blast!
The only thing wrong with this book is it feels a little short, maybe a tad lightweight. No, I don't expect a profound, weighty tome from Paul Shaffer, but this fast read does leave you wishing there were more. Maybe that's just good show business, though. Also, while Shaffer does include touching insights and memories of his parent and of friends like Gilda Radner and John Belushi, it does seem a bit breezy at times. Shaffer and Ritz bounce around a bit in time and are often in and out of topics. Overall, the approach does work, and it creates a fun ride. Still, I was hoping for a little more detail here and there.
I mean, the man has had an incredible career. Take away his work in the recording studio (some might say take away "It's Raining Men," which he wrote, permanently), and his resume still includes the original "SNL," years of late night TV with David Letterman, and his role as musical director for the annual Rock and Roll Hall of Fame concerts. He has been involved with so many cool cultural elements that maybe one book isn't enough to satisfy anyone interested in one aspect. I wanted to read more about just about every part of his career mentioned in the book, but I admit I was pleasantly surprised to read as much as I did about his short-lived sitcom, "A Room at the Top."
The David Letterman experience is particularly elusive here, and anyone hoping for a candid look at "what makes Dave tick?" will be disappointed. In just about every mention of the show or the man, however, Letterman comes off like a great guy and a generous boss.
What you do get in here are a slew of funny anecdotes and hilarious memories of his many years in the entertainment industry, and let's face it, that alone is enough to make this a worthwhile effort. Shaffer doesn't really dish with any negativity on many celebrities. Eric Clapton seems like a bit of an ass, but other than that, there's gossip but not a whole lot of dirt. But, hey, do we want mudslinging Paul or do we want "That's nutty!" Paul?
You get two strong impressions of Paul Shaffer when reading this book: The man loves and lives for music, and the man is a lot more self-aware of his Judaism than you knew (well, at least me). It's fun reading his stories about how early musical influences shaped his life, or how thrilled he was to meet and work with idols like Ray Charles and James Brown. I was a bit surprised to see how prominent his Jewish identity in his sense of self, but it's not like Shaffer is filling his book with religious theory. Instead, he mentions it in context of his early life and his love of showbiz.
This is a no-brainer for fans, and since Shaffer has been a key player in so many different aspects of popular entertainment, it's hard to envision a fan of pop culture not getting some enjoyment out of it. Anyone who thinks they want to read this autobiography will love it. Even if it's not the detailed, no-holds-barred epic one might have dreamed about, it's a fine representation of Paul Shaffer himself. More importantly, it's a blast!
Thursday, December 10, 2009
This Week in DVD
This is a big week for DVD, so big I'm gonna write this post in ALL CAPS.
No, I'm just kidding. But maybe I'll sprinkle in a few big words along the way.
Harry Potter and the Magical Cash Cow: Yeah, this made a lot of dough and got people excited for a week or two, but I don't know what kind of lasting impact this installment will have. Did it save the economy? Did it win a Nobel Peace Prize? Did it get Rupert Grint laid? I doubt that it accomplished any of those things, and therefore history will judge it a failure.
Julia and Julia: Unfortunately, you can only get the more-intriguing French cut, "Julia et Julia et Emmanuelle," on a Region 2 disc.
Public Enemies: I'm grateful this is out now, because I not only have the opportunity to finally see it, but to steer you again to one of the finest examples of writing I've seen in some time...my review of the original book.
Oh, all right, the book itself was good, too.
Hooking Up: I mention this low-budget release only so I can quote the last sentence in the summary from Netflix's site:
Bronson Pinchot makes a cameo appearance as Mr. Kimbal, a chemistry teacher desperately trying to dodge the seductive attentions of his students.
Surely, this is more astonishing than anything in the Harry Potter movie.
Fugitive Season 3 Volume 2: David Janssen makes a cameo appearance as Richard Kimble, a doctor desperately trying to dodge the acquisitive attentions of the law.
Perry Mason Season 4 Volume 2: I just don't have the heart to make wise-ass comments about Paramount's standard shenanigans this week.
No, I'm just kidding. But maybe I'll sprinkle in a few big words along the way.
Harry Potter and the Magical Cash Cow: Yeah, this made a lot of dough and got people excited for a week or two, but I don't know what kind of lasting impact this installment will have. Did it save the economy? Did it win a Nobel Peace Prize? Did it get Rupert Grint laid? I doubt that it accomplished any of those things, and therefore history will judge it a failure.
Julia and Julia: Unfortunately, you can only get the more-intriguing French cut, "Julia et Julia et Emmanuelle," on a Region 2 disc.
Public Enemies: I'm grateful this is out now, because I not only have the opportunity to finally see it, but to steer you again to one of the finest examples of writing I've seen in some time...my review of the original book.
Oh, all right, the book itself was good, too.
Hooking Up: I mention this low-budget release only so I can quote the last sentence in the summary from Netflix's site:
Bronson Pinchot makes a cameo appearance as Mr. Kimbal, a chemistry teacher desperately trying to dodge the seductive attentions of his students.
Surely, this is more astonishing than anything in the Harry Potter movie.
Fugitive Season 3 Volume 2: David Janssen makes a cameo appearance as Richard Kimble, a doctor desperately trying to dodge the acquisitive attentions of the law.
Perry Mason Season 4 Volume 2: I just don't have the heart to make wise-ass comments about Paramount's standard shenanigans this week.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Open Letter to Paul McCartney
Dear Sir--Sir Paul, that is:
I recently watched your ABC television special that aired just before Thanksgiving. Paul, I love your work, your career, The Beatles, "Give My Regards to Broad Street," all of it, but this special disappointed me.
I'm at the point in my life when I don't need to see you doing "Live and Let Die" and "Hey, Jude" on TV anymore. I mean, I would totally love to see you live, and in that event I would enjoy those classics, but as far as watching those performances on the telly, it's just not doing it for me.
My TV listings touted your appearing in New York at the new Mets ballpark and reminiscing about the Beatles' famous Shea Stadium concert, with old footage as well as new.
Well, during one song--I believe it was "I'm Down," but I know it was only one song--we got to see some Shea footage, and that was intercut with the new footage. Your modern-day banter was appropriately cheeky. Your voice was still rockin'. But this was lame. I had tuned in to see the Shea stuff, and while the reminisces were amusing, the footage was lacking. The appearance of Billy Joel on the 2009 stage to sing "I Saw Her Standing There" wasn't enough to make up for this.
I'd still be kind of miffed about it if you weren't still so darned CUTE, Paul! How can I stay mad at such an adorable moppet?
P.S.: While I have your attention, how about going ahead and putting "Let It Be" on DVD, huh? Come to think of it, this is far more vital than the ABC special. OK, this is really the only reason I;m writing the open letter, but I thought it would be rude to just blurt that out. Thanks.
I recently watched your ABC television special that aired just before Thanksgiving. Paul, I love your work, your career, The Beatles, "Give My Regards to Broad Street," all of it, but this special disappointed me.
I'm at the point in my life when I don't need to see you doing "Live and Let Die" and "Hey, Jude" on TV anymore. I mean, I would totally love to see you live, and in that event I would enjoy those classics, but as far as watching those performances on the telly, it's just not doing it for me.
My TV listings touted your appearing in New York at the new Mets ballpark and reminiscing about the Beatles' famous Shea Stadium concert, with old footage as well as new.
Well, during one song--I believe it was "I'm Down," but I know it was only one song--we got to see some Shea footage, and that was intercut with the new footage. Your modern-day banter was appropriately cheeky. Your voice was still rockin'. But this was lame. I had tuned in to see the Shea stuff, and while the reminisces were amusing, the footage was lacking. The appearance of Billy Joel on the 2009 stage to sing "I Saw Her Standing There" wasn't enough to make up for this.
I'd still be kind of miffed about it if you weren't still so darned CUTE, Paul! How can I stay mad at such an adorable moppet?
P.S.: While I have your attention, how about going ahead and putting "Let It Be" on DVD, huh? Come to think of it, this is far more vital than the ABC special. OK, this is really the only reason I;m writing the open letter, but I thought it would be rude to just blurt that out. Thanks.
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