"Cop Out" opens this weekend

A new Kevin Smith movie opens this weekend, and while such an occasion excited me in the past, this time it's not such a big deal. Bruce Willis and Tracy Morgan in a buddy cop comedy would have ruled 17 3/4 years ago (you have to respect my precision)...if it had Eddie Murphy instead of Morgan. And if it didn't have Seann William Scott at all. I'm not big on Scott today, so I doubt a 15-year-old version would score comedy points.

Besides, this isn't even marketed as "a Kevin Smith movie." Every ad I've seen conspicuously avoided mentioning him. Hmm. Plus, Smith didn't write this one, "only" directing it, so perhaps even HE doesn't consider it "a Kevin Smith movie." Why in the world when someone hire the guy to shoot someone else's script? You have a filmmaker whose shtick is about 45% self-deprecating humor about how crappy he is as a visual director. Someone gets a generic cop movie script and says, "You know who would bring a lot to the table on this? Kevin Smith!" It's interesting--not interesting in a makes me want to see it way, though.

Here's something else that doesn't make me want to see "Cop Out" (How can this title be available for major motion picture in 2010? This is as stunning a debut of a generic title as TNT's "Raising the Bar" a few years ago): An airline booting Smith off its craft for being too fat just weeks before the movie opens. This is the worst publicity stunt ever, as well as a sad indicator of where American culture is today. I miss the good old days when a director would drum up some pub by getting caught doing Bolivian marching powder with a tranny hooker (In fact, I miss the term "Bolivian marching powder").

"Cop Out" might be a good rental in 5 or 6 months, but it just isn't bringing it right now.

Terry O'Quinn ruined last week's "Lost" episode for me

OK, that headline is a bit of an exaggeration. He didn't exactly ruin it. Considering he is probably my favorite actor in the show, I shouldn't call him out like that, anyway. And it's tough for anyone or anything to ruin an episode of "Lost" since I consider myself a casual fan at this point and don't get too wrapped up in any of it. Besides, in a way, he actually made it the most enjoyable episode of the season for me.

So last week was a Locke episode, and that's usually a good thing for me, though my wife dislikes the character. O'Quinn made an odd choice, though, maybe 2/3 into the show, one which reduced me to a helpless giggle fit so overpowering Mrs. Shark not only had to stop the DVR, she had to consider administering CPR.

Locke was sitting in his wheelchair telling Peg Bundy--oops, sorry. It's Katey Sagal, and the Peg Bundy label is so damned unfair to everyone involved, but it's much more fun than calling her "Helen," and I may not be the only one who thinks that. In this intense scene, Locke told Helen he got fired that day. Only he didn't just say, "I got fired today, Helen." No, he did something different, telling her, "I got fired today, Alan."

At this point, I looked over at my wife and said, "Uh, did he just call her ALAN?" There is absolutely no reason he would. I really don't think he did. He was raising his voice a bit to get across his frustration, and the name came out sounding way different than it did before and after within that scene. But it sounded a hell of a lot like "Alan," and that's what I'm going with.

We backed it up and played it again. Mrs. Shark is used to me saying idiotic things when we're watching the idiot box, but I could tell that she knew I was on to something here. After all, she gave nary a protest when I asked her to replay that line. Sure enough, on a second watch, it held up. He called her "Alan!"

Something about this struck me as really, really funny. I began turning over the possibilities in my mind and wondering why the director would let that go, why the post-production team would leave it in, why nobody would just say, "Hey, you guys DO know Locke called Helen 'Alan' there, don't you?" I convinced myself it was another B.S. "clue," some key aspect of the larger puzzle that makes up the grand mosaic that is "Lost."

But mostly I just giggled. I tried to stifle my laughter as the show continued, but the absurdity of it all built up inside me like the tell-tale heart until finally I exploded. Mrs. Shark kindly attended to me--I believe her exact words were "What the hell is the matter with you?"--and I explained to her that I couldn't get past Locke calling Helen "Alan," and it was gonna bug me the rest of the episode.

She let me laugh myself out, and a few minutes later, she resumed the program. But I knew she didn't think I was totally crazy. She heard it, too, I tell you! And when we reached the end of the program, I wanted to think she was as unsatisfied as I.

"Don't delete it," I yelped as soon as the show ended. "You know what I want."

She glanced over at me but couldn't muster a proper full eye roll. She sympathized!

"You played it before. You can play it again. Play it."

I'm happy to say that I still heard ALAN on the third go-round. It was still funny, too. Is it funny now? Probably not to you. I admit it's becoming less so to me as the days go by. But somewhere inside me, I still believe that Terry O'Quinn not only called Katey Sagal's character "Alan," but he did so on purpose, and furthermore, everyone was cool with that.

I'm a casual fan of the show nowadays, someone who watches for goofy moments like this and doesn't care much about the so-called mythology. But I am issuing a challenge to all "Lost" fans who DO obsess over the details: Come up with a Grand Unified Theory of "Lost" that incorporates Locke calling Helen "Alan" into its awe-inspiring connectivity. You know, kind of like the old No-Prize system at Marvel Comics, where Stan Lee encouraged readers to come up with explanations as to why things that seemed like errors in the stories really weren't.

I'm talking to you, too, "Doc" Jensen of "Entertainment Weekly." Don't make my embarrassing breakdown go for naught. Prove me right. Ladies, you're welcome, too, but just don't make me call you...Alan.

(OK, it's still kinda funny for me.)

Brooks on Books: "What Americans Really Want...Really" by Frank Luntz

What do I want...really? I want my mortgage paid off, I want a rocker recliner, I want an official complete series DVD set of "Sgt. Bilko," and I want the Pittsburgh Pirates to make the playoffs. Does Luntz address THESE wants? No.

Still, this is an entertaining book with valuable findings based on years of solid research, but I'm not sure it's 100% practical in everyday life for the average Joe. Luntz takes pains at the onset to explain why it IS, but after reading the thing, it seems much more valuable as a series of lessons for marketers, businesses, and politicians. Of course, if you are in one of those groups, then, hey, you're the kind of Joe this book targets.

For the rest of us, though, reading it is still a worthwhile experience. It's loaded with buzzwords and such, but with a no-BS approach. In other words, Luntz isn't trying to hoodwink us into following a given agenda, but is sharing what is important to Americans, why it is important, and what kind of language to use to convince them you agree. Through his years conducting polling and focus group sessions, Luntz has studied communication and words in great detail, and the emphasis of this work is on how to reach people by constructing messages that resonate with them.

And if you're worried that because Luntz works for the GOP, the book is gonna be some kind of conservative talking points recital, fear not. Luntz is up front about his beliefs, but he gives credit and assigns blame to both parties when he feels it's applicable. He is far from a far-right puppet, at least in this book, as his chapter on religion shows. He offers interesting thoughts on the subject, claiming that Americans should discuss it more because while they feel comfortable being spiritual and hearing people discuss that, they don't want to hear about other religions than their own. Luntz presents some data that indicate people with strong faith are happier and more productive, but he also offers his own experience at an early age that soured him on organized religion.

Nor is this veteran pollster a slave to Madison Avenue, as is evident in his response to a marketing guy who told him after reading an early version of this book that it was a waste time to devote a chapter to what old people really want because they have already made up their minds and are worthless to advertisers. Luntz calls him an idiot and details why advertisers should pay attention to this demographic. As someone who long ago soured on the notion of programming for "youth demographics," I thoroughly enjoyed that.

In the earliest portions of the book, I thought I was in for a slog of ad-guy-speak and shallow cliches. Fortunately, "What Americans Want" becomes more focused as it progresses, turning into a quality read with compelling insight into what people want and how they respond to messages.

This Week in DVD

Small Wonder Season 1: There are TV shows we really want to see come to DVD, and there are shows we think we want to see on DVD. I think people today are more in love with the idea of "Small Wonder" than the artistic output of "Small Wonder," but, hey, it's good that those people can buy it. I have to admit a little part of me is curious to see what the show is like after 20-odd years. I am going to try to force that little part into a confined space I can lock up.

Law Abiding Citizen: Some might say that vigilante/revenge movies like this and, say, "Taken" resonate right now because of the helplessness many feel in the dire economy. I say people like to see stuff get blown up.

Black Dynamite: I'm looking forward to this little-seen but fondly received send-up of blaxploitation. I'm sick of The Man, too, and I don't mean the Eugene Levy-Sam Jackson bomb from a few years ago. Well, I'm a little sick of that one.

Barnaby Jones Season 1: George Utley must be ecstatic, assuming he finally upgraded from VHS.

Cannon Season 2: Volume 2: Clever move by Paramount getting this out this week, knowing the "Small Wonder" fans won't be able to resist Bill Conrad when they see him on the New Release shelf. I only fear for the shelf.

Branded the Complete Series: My dad tells me this is a great show, and I want to believe him, but I don't want to invest in a bunch of hacked-up episodes. Sadly, this Mill Creek collection is apparently just a rehash of the earlier problem-ridden set.

Good Hair: I love Chris Rock's comedy, but I can't say I'm eager to see a documentary about hair. There are probably other things I'd rather see him do, but I'll probably give this one a shot.

My wife reads People so you don't have to: Jen Aniston's Top 5 Moments

I'll spare you my rant about how overrated a celebrity Jennifer Aniston is, how she is disproportionately famous merely for having slept with Brad Pitt, etc. Instead, I'll give "People" the benefit of the doubt and presume it put her on its February 1 cover because it has new insight into that darned frustrating love life of hers, something a little more substantial than pointing out it's the fifth anniversary of when he dumped her.

Nah. I have to admit, I had no idea Laura Dern was "a trusted confidante." But the mag DOES offer a real treat: Jen's Top 5 Single Girl Moments." To wit:

1) FLAUNTING HER KILLER BODY: The "GQ" cover. Posing naked is, in this case, not demeaning or desperate, but the best revenge. I can never tell when it's OK for women to pose naked and when it isn't. I think all the women's mags should get together and establish some clear ground rules.

2) REBOUNDING PERFECTLY: Vince Vaughn was "the ideal fling" according to "People," which must make thousands of single women thankful the magazine doesn't operate a matchmaking service.

3) MAKING HIT MOVIES: Marley and Me was a hit, as the text reminds us. I guess "The Break-Up" was, too. OK, that's two, so I guess the S in "MOVIES" is justified.

4) DATING YOUNGER: As "People" cites, John Mayer and Bradley Cooper (and that, much like her fling with Gerard Butler, is of course in no way manufactured for publicity purposes, right?). Aniston is 41, and Cooper is 35. Whoo-hoo! You GO, girl! What a cradle robber!

5) TAKING DREAM VACATIONS: "She unwinds (and rocks a bikini) the way we all wish we could." Yep, I'm sure Brad Pitt has been eating his heart out every time he sees a shot on the beach while he's trapped in a dull existence with his unglamorous mate, a lifestyle that never sees them make headlines by traveling anywhere.

The Wonderful World of TCM: Men Are Such Fools

Men ARE fools, you know--and scoundrels and knaves and suckers and all that, as well. But wimmen are fools, too, and Priscilla Lane's character provides ironclad evidence in this 1938 Warner Brothers picture directed by Busby Berkeley and featuring Humphrey Bogart in a supporting role. The Greatest Cable Channel Known to Mankind aired this rarity as part of its Bogey festival in December, and while there isn't a whole lot of prime Bogart, there is a lot of entertainment value, what with all the boys and girls running around being foolish.

The highlight for me in "Fools," however, is one of the most romantic scenes in cinematic history, a scene which I regret seeing some years after I met, courted, and married the lovely Mrs. Shark. Wayne Morris, of all people--that's right, Wayne "Lunkhead" Morris--offers up the most enchanting proposal of matrimony in the annals of LIFE, not just the moving pictures.

But I'll get to that in a minute. First, let me talk about all the foolish behavior. Morris' character Jimmy Hall is a promising young (as young as Wayne Morris can ever be--to me the guy always looked like he was 35 or so when he was born and didn't bother changing) ad man when he meets Lane's Linda, a talented young copywriter. They get married partly because they're too jealous not to, but trouble brews when Jimmy tires of Linda's long hours and wants her to quit and be a good little wifey.

We see this situation many times in old movies and TV shows, of course--"No woman of mine will ever have to work in this household," etc.--but this case amuses because from all we know, Linda is the one with the talent. We see her working and exercising ambition, whereas we just kind of hear that Jimmy's got ad skills. Makes you wonder what's really going on when he pulls his "Me Mad Man, you Desperate Housewife" routine.

Well, Linda consents, but she gets ticked when Jimmy declines a plum job she helped set up for him. Now, here's where things get a little foolish on her part. She executes the ol' "Walk out on the hubby to get him to change his ways" routine, and that's silly enough, but she winds up taking her old job working for our man Bogart--the same guy who previously pulled the "Make a play for an attached woman" out of his playbook in an effort to snag Linda from Jimmy. Now, Priscilla Lane is luminous in this movie, but she loses me with this action. Bogart is not so much a fool in this story as a bona fide CAD, and he had gone so far as to deliberately keep Lane late at work one night so she would miss a date with Jimmy and his college chums (not to pick on Wayne Morris, but I have a hard time believing he went to Princeton, by the way) and undermine their marriage.

It's OK with Linda, though, who not only works with Bogey, but she romances him a little bit, too, or at least lets him romance her. This all ends in predictable fashion, with Jimmy stepping out a bit for a while with a suitor of his own before everyone comes to their senses. The only thing that surprises me is that Berkeley doesn't somehow manage to get an overhead shot of Bogart, Lane, Morris, and a chorus line dancing in a circle. But let me tell you, these people are such FOOLS.

You know what's not foolish, though? Making a romantic marriage proposal to a reluctant sweetie in such an extravagant manner that she can't possibly resist. Jimmy fakes us all out by feigning the old "Make love to her in the car" routine, then adds a glorious twist. He stops his automobile on a set of railroad tracks and announces he's not moving until she agrees to marry him.

Adding to the sentimental value of this priceless moment is the presence of an actual oncoming train. Oh, if I had only used this approach instead of the boring, old "Getting down on one knee" routine, the stories I'd have to tell my grandkids!

An exasperated Linda eventually relents just before the BrideKiller Express halts mere yards from the vehicle. She sort of gets mad when she realizes Jimmy knew all along the train was gonna stop there (see, this kind of proposal requires a lot more planning than just angling to get yourself on the stadium Jumbotron), and in response...he chuckles. Hey, she said she would marry him, and in the 1930s, that constitutes a binding verbal contract and cannot be broken. So what does he care if she sees his grand romantic gesture as foolish?

I realize Valentine's Day was a few days ago, but if any single readers are thinking of popping the question soon, here is your romantic masterstroke. All you need is a woman who isn't quick enough to get out of an open-top car, a reliable train with a consistent route, and of course the vehicle.

Oh, you'd better make it a reliable vehicle, too, because after Jimmy's stunt, another train zooms by and nearly dashes them both to bits before they can even do a cake tasting. That would be kind of a downer in the real world, I think, but since this is the movies, our Foolish but happy couple laughs it off and, for all we know, plans a cross-country rail trip for their honeymoon.