When I saw Val Kilmer's name in the "Trending Now" section of Yahoo's main page, I gave it a click to see if he had punched out a shutterbug or something (I forgot he had a movie to promote). The resulting page offered not only a series of links to stories about Kilmer, but an unusual ad (Can I call it a Google ad if it's not on Google? It sure looks like a Google ad) on the right.
"Rare Val Kilmer Films" was the header of a small advert for Movies Unlimited. OK, I know what happened here: I clicked Kilmer's name, and an automated process stuck the actor into an ad template for me.
But come on--RARE Val Kilmer films? I know Movies Unlimited stocks a ton of titles, but unless Kilmer has a sex tape I don't know about, none of his movies should be "rare."
(By the way, I don't get a lot of comments on the site, but if someone follows this post with a message that there IS a Val Kilmer sex tape, I swear I'm shutting the whole thing down.)
Rare Wally Beery films, sure. Rare Ken Berry films--you betcha. Maybe even rare Gabe Kaplan films are of interest around here. But rare Val Kilmer films, even if they exist, are not appealing to this innocent web surfer. I really gotta be careful what I click.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
First Impulse: "24" says good-bye
It would have been more appropriate if the long-running action series said something more like, "Dammit! We don't have TIME for this!" Or better yet, it could have hired a William Conrad soundalike (if there is such a thing, I want to hear the guy doing ads NOW) to intone, "Day 8, 4:00 P.M.: The time the running...er, kept going."
But still, it gave fans a decent good-bye and capped off an uneven season with a little emotion and some of that elusive "closure" people always say they want. It's too bad there is still talk of everyone monkeying around with a "24" movie. That knowledge lessened any potential impact of the last episode.
There were strong moments, though, and ultimately the Jack Bauer Power Hour went out giving everyone just what had it given for 8 seasons. That is a nice treat for loyal fans but also, of course, an indication that it's time to go. I didn't care for the story this year, but in the final run of episodes, Jack Bauer was as over-the-top bonkers as ever, kicking ass, biting ears, and eviscerating foes. At the beginning of this season, I assumed the end would feature our hero reunited with his daughter, enjoying life as a grandpa and finally finding peace. Of course, that didn't happen, and the show refused to absolve or condemn him. After all this time, Bauer remains a thoroughly damaged individual, incapable of assimilating into "normal" life for reasons his own and not and his own, once again a fugitive. But he's also a superhero, a patriot, a man who we're clearly supposed to admire on some level.
I like that "24" didn't compromise or change Jack Bauer. He won some and lost some while ensuring justice eventually prevailed. The show him and longtime tag team partner Chloe a poignant good-bye scene (with more than a slice of "24"-style cheese), then told us, OK, back to the Life for Jack. One of the great characters in small screen history limped off rather than walked off into the sunset, and it was a perfect bittersweet ending. Let's forget that movie and hope it never actually happens, and we can all enjoy the high point of this season, a fitting conclusion to one of the wildest, goofiest, most entertaining action sagas on TV.
But still, it gave fans a decent good-bye and capped off an uneven season with a little emotion and some of that elusive "closure" people always say they want. It's too bad there is still talk of everyone monkeying around with a "24" movie. That knowledge lessened any potential impact of the last episode.
There were strong moments, though, and ultimately the Jack Bauer Power Hour went out giving everyone just what had it given for 8 seasons. That is a nice treat for loyal fans but also, of course, an indication that it's time to go. I didn't care for the story this year, but in the final run of episodes, Jack Bauer was as over-the-top bonkers as ever, kicking ass, biting ears, and eviscerating foes. At the beginning of this season, I assumed the end would feature our hero reunited with his daughter, enjoying life as a grandpa and finally finding peace. Of course, that didn't happen, and the show refused to absolve or condemn him. After all this time, Bauer remains a thoroughly damaged individual, incapable of assimilating into "normal" life for reasons his own and not and his own, once again a fugitive. But he's also a superhero, a patriot, a man who we're clearly supposed to admire on some level.
I like that "24" didn't compromise or change Jack Bauer. He won some and lost some while ensuring justice eventually prevailed. The show him and longtime tag team partner Chloe a poignant good-bye scene (with more than a slice of "24"-style cheese), then told us, OK, back to the Life for Jack. One of the great characters in small screen history limped off rather than walked off into the sunset, and it was a perfect bittersweet ending. Let's forget that movie and hope it never actually happens, and we can all enjoy the high point of this season, a fitting conclusion to one of the wildest, goofiest, most entertaining action sagas on TV.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Vault of Coolness
This post is just an excuse to run cool screencaps of Bert Convy and Lee Majors. I'll explain these in subsequent posts, but for today, while everyone else is debating "Lost," just enjoy:
And here's Lee Majors--twice!
And here's Lee Majors--twice!
First Impulse: The "Lost" finale
I think it worked as a finale. It seemed crafted to provide numerous emotional high spots for longtime fans, and it succeeded in that regard. It was an entertaining hour and a half (too bad ABC stretched it out to 2 1/2 by cramming in commercials).
It didn't much change my opinion of the series, though, which is that it started very strong and offered many high points, finished up pretty well, but featured a whole lot of subpar moments and episodes in between which, now that we've seen the whole series, can be regarded almost as filler, or at least "stuff I didn't really need to see."
As far as the "character vs. plot" discussions you will surely see on the Internet this week, I say that while I never was one to demand every single plot element be "explained," (hell, I'm barely swift enough to keep up with the basics) it's a cop-out to shrug off big inconsistencies or dead ends just because "the show isn't about character." "Lost" on one hand looks like one of the most ambitious shows in history, but at some point it got away from its creators and often settled for frustrating meandering and pat sci-fi elements that didn't really add up, either at the time or in the end. Even within this very episode, there were many puzzling and/or disappointing bits that didn't seem "worth it."
It was entertaining enough, though, to keep me watching the whole way, though I might have jumped ship a few seasons ago had not my wife and I watched it together. "Lost" to me had elements of greatness but was never quite as good as its staunchest fans wanted it to be. I doubt that any kind of finale could have elevated the series from good to great for me, but that's not such a bad thing.
I abandoned any expectation of some grand, intricate design to "Lost" several years ago, and that approach really enhanced my viewing experience. Just sit back, enjoy, have fun puzzling over it, but don't think too much about it. It just doesn't hold up to that kind of scrutiny, which is why the show falls short of greatness.
Instead of complaining about what I didn't get from the show in general, or the episode in particular, I'm gonna try to admire what the show DID do: screw with the minds of millions of viewers, myself included, raise a lot of debate and discussion, and provide some decent entertainment value along the way.
Judging by the often contentious relationship between this show and many of its followers, plus the subsequent failure of many mythology-based TV dramas, I'd think it'd be a while before any weekly television program stimulates this kind of reaction. The fact that "Lost" itself is responsible for much of the fear that such a series won't work is part of its complicated legacy.
It didn't much change my opinion of the series, though, which is that it started very strong and offered many high points, finished up pretty well, but featured a whole lot of subpar moments and episodes in between which, now that we've seen the whole series, can be regarded almost as filler, or at least "stuff I didn't really need to see."
As far as the "character vs. plot" discussions you will surely see on the Internet this week, I say that while I never was one to demand every single plot element be "explained," (hell, I'm barely swift enough to keep up with the basics) it's a cop-out to shrug off big inconsistencies or dead ends just because "the show isn't about character." "Lost" on one hand looks like one of the most ambitious shows in history, but at some point it got away from its creators and often settled for frustrating meandering and pat sci-fi elements that didn't really add up, either at the time or in the end. Even within this very episode, there were many puzzling and/or disappointing bits that didn't seem "worth it."
It was entertaining enough, though, to keep me watching the whole way, though I might have jumped ship a few seasons ago had not my wife and I watched it together. "Lost" to me had elements of greatness but was never quite as good as its staunchest fans wanted it to be. I doubt that any kind of finale could have elevated the series from good to great for me, but that's not such a bad thing.
I abandoned any expectation of some grand, intricate design to "Lost" several years ago, and that approach really enhanced my viewing experience. Just sit back, enjoy, have fun puzzling over it, but don't think too much about it. It just doesn't hold up to that kind of scrutiny, which is why the show falls short of greatness.
Instead of complaining about what I didn't get from the show in general, or the episode in particular, I'm gonna try to admire what the show DID do: screw with the minds of millions of viewers, myself included, raise a lot of debate and discussion, and provide some decent entertainment value along the way.
Judging by the often contentious relationship between this show and many of its followers, plus the subsequent failure of many mythology-based TV dramas, I'd think it'd be a while before any weekly television program stimulates this kind of reaction. The fact that "Lost" itself is responsible for much of the fear that such a series won't work is part of its complicated legacy.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Brooks on Books: The Book of Basketball by Bill Simmons
I haven't watched a lot of NBA action the past few years, but I thought reading this book would rekindle my action in the league. Well, it did, but, as I told my friend, it got me interested not in the NBA of today, but rather the NBA of the eighties and nineties (or at least the Michael Jordan years). I loved this wide-ranging, over-the-top, idiosyncratic look at the Association from its beginnings to the present. I still don't care too much about the present, but, boy, reading Simmons rave about the Bird-Magic seasons of glory sure makes me want to relive some of that.
Let's get this out of the way now: You will NOT love this book if you hate Bill Simmons. The longtime web fixture and ESPN personality is a bit of a divisive presence online, and for better or worse, this book reflects all the B.S. you would expect/hope for/fear. This volume is huge, it's irreverent, and it's highly opinionated. It features tons of footnotes containing all sorts of extra asides and info--Simmons has a LOT to say about everything, not just basketball. It contains references to many of Simmons' obsessions, such as Vegas, porn, and 1980s movies. It is also extremely self-referential. You get the feeling the book would be about half as long if you deleted all the jokes about how long it is. If the guy rubs you the wrong way, steer clear.
For everyone else, though, there is much to enjoy. A more "mature" basketball book might not drop f-bombs, make multiple references to a story in Wilt Chamberlain's autobio about being serviced on a plane by a flight attendant, or refer to popular conspiracy theories as if they were given facts (like the NBA rigging the draft lottery so the Knicks could get Patrick Ewing). Such a book would not be near as fun, though.
And then there is all that content. Simmons discusses the history of the league, breaking it down into distinguishable eras; he ranks the best teams of all time, etc., covering everything he can about the NBA in doing so. It all builds up to his unveiling of a new concept for the Hall of Fame. I can't find anywhere near the passion he does for the Basketball Hall of Fame, and I don't even think too highly about his idea, but I don't care because it's really just a framework for him to provide an entertaining ranking of the best players of all time.
Say what you will about Simmons' ego or his pro-Celtics bias, but the guy watches a lot of hoops, and he did a ton of research for this, studying old game tapes and digging up print materials, so he at least tries to back up his assertions. I don't agree with all of his reasoning, and in fact two big things reduce his credibility: His account early in the book of fawning over Isiah Thomas in person after ripping him for years, plus a several-page argument Chuck Klosterman makes that really makes you doubt Simmons' choice of the #1 player ever--a choice which "The Book of Basketball" essentially makes 700 pages developing.
I look at it this way: Simmons is cool enough and secure enough to give Klosterman that platform. Agree with him or not, he's an effective writer, and even if his Simmonsisms really pile up in a book this length, I think it's awesome he delivered a book of this length. I found the 700 pages plus of NBA talk addictive and compelling, and I almost didn't want it to end. It's an excellent read even for a (mostly) lapsed pro hoops fan like myself.
Let's get this out of the way now: You will NOT love this book if you hate Bill Simmons. The longtime web fixture and ESPN personality is a bit of a divisive presence online, and for better or worse, this book reflects all the B.S. you would expect/hope for/fear. This volume is huge, it's irreverent, and it's highly opinionated. It features tons of footnotes containing all sorts of extra asides and info--Simmons has a LOT to say about everything, not just basketball. It contains references to many of Simmons' obsessions, such as Vegas, porn, and 1980s movies. It is also extremely self-referential. You get the feeling the book would be about half as long if you deleted all the jokes about how long it is. If the guy rubs you the wrong way, steer clear.
For everyone else, though, there is much to enjoy. A more "mature" basketball book might not drop f-bombs, make multiple references to a story in Wilt Chamberlain's autobio about being serviced on a plane by a flight attendant, or refer to popular conspiracy theories as if they were given facts (like the NBA rigging the draft lottery so the Knicks could get Patrick Ewing). Such a book would not be near as fun, though.
And then there is all that content. Simmons discusses the history of the league, breaking it down into distinguishable eras; he ranks the best teams of all time, etc., covering everything he can about the NBA in doing so. It all builds up to his unveiling of a new concept for the Hall of Fame. I can't find anywhere near the passion he does for the Basketball Hall of Fame, and I don't even think too highly about his idea, but I don't care because it's really just a framework for him to provide an entertaining ranking of the best players of all time.
Say what you will about Simmons' ego or his pro-Celtics bias, but the guy watches a lot of hoops, and he did a ton of research for this, studying old game tapes and digging up print materials, so he at least tries to back up his assertions. I don't agree with all of his reasoning, and in fact two big things reduce his credibility: His account early in the book of fawning over Isiah Thomas in person after ripping him for years, plus a several-page argument Chuck Klosterman makes that really makes you doubt Simmons' choice of the #1 player ever--a choice which "The Book of Basketball" essentially makes 700 pages developing.
I look at it this way: Simmons is cool enough and secure enough to give Klosterman that platform. Agree with him or not, he's an effective writer, and even if his Simmonsisms really pile up in a book this length, I think it's awesome he delivered a book of this length. I found the 700 pages plus of NBA talk addictive and compelling, and I almost didn't want it to end. It's an excellent read even for a (mostly) lapsed pro hoops fan like myself.
Friday, May 21, 2010
Half-Assed Gourmet: Hard to find good help?
On Mother's Day weekend, my family and I decided to be clever and go out the day before Mother's Day. You know, Saturday is the new Sunday and all that. Unfortunately, it was still Saturday, and the few decent restaurants in the vicinity of Cultureshark Tower fill up early. So at 5:00, my wife's first choice was already at an hour-and-15-minute wait, which would test our patience, let alone our toddler's, so off we went to Bonefish Grill.
(Incidentally, remember how we all used to make fun of our elders for hitting "early bird specials" at restaurants?" Not me anymore. We have to be out the door at 4:00 if we want to get right in to eat somewhere on a weekend.)
Bonefish isn't my wife's favorite restaurant--since she doesn't like seafood, it would have to give her free massages and pay off a credit card or two to get that status--but it is close to her first choice, and when you're all dressed up, that's a pretty big plus. I happen to love the place, partly because of the excellent service it offers.
Or did offer. You see, on this occasion, the place was packed, but we got in with no wait. Only problem was, we had to wait over an hour for our meals, culminating in me taking our daughter outside to run around in the parking lot (not the part people actually park in, but a blocked-off area on the side; I'm not that irresponsible). We had to get the grub "to go" because it took so long, but that's not even what puzzled me that night.
The puzzler was the server who came over to take our orders. I asked him if he could describe the special, a "Mixed Grill" of Longfin Rockefeller and grilled seafood. His eyes widened like Mantan Moreland in a zombie flick, and the poor guy stammered something about it being his first night alone on the floor, so he really couldn't describe the special.
The special, mind you! There was a sign in the lobby advertising this dish. It's not like I was looking for references and educational background of the specific fish. I have great sympathy for harried restaurant employees on a hectic evening, but this guy was either "not up to snuff," as Jack Nicholson described Dermot Mulroney in "About Schmidt," or someone running that place sent him out there unarmed. You got to at least tell your servers some basic info about the special. Don't you?
The other funny thing is, he didn't even offer to get someone who could describe the meal for me. What he did provide was an awkward silence, after which I said, "Uh, could you maybe find someone who could? I'm interested in getting it, but I really want to know what the deal is with it." Hey, I'm not the most articulate restaurant customer perhaps, but I gave him more info than he gave me.
To me, part of the restaurant experience is being able to rely on a learned opinion from the person who's gonna bring you the food. The first time I went to Bonefish, I was blown away by a server who gladly talked me through the different sauces they had, made some recommendations based on stuff I told her, and generally seemed to know what she was doing. Of course, that was on a weekday afternoon. Maybe I'm asking for too much on a busy weekend evening? Maybe we need to start hitting the restaurants at more reasonable hour for dinner...like, say, 11:00 A.M.
(Incidentally, remember how we all used to make fun of our elders for hitting "early bird specials" at restaurants?" Not me anymore. We have to be out the door at 4:00 if we want to get right in to eat somewhere on a weekend.)
Bonefish isn't my wife's favorite restaurant--since she doesn't like seafood, it would have to give her free massages and pay off a credit card or two to get that status--but it is close to her first choice, and when you're all dressed up, that's a pretty big plus. I happen to love the place, partly because of the excellent service it offers.
Or did offer. You see, on this occasion, the place was packed, but we got in with no wait. Only problem was, we had to wait over an hour for our meals, culminating in me taking our daughter outside to run around in the parking lot (not the part people actually park in, but a blocked-off area on the side; I'm not that irresponsible). We had to get the grub "to go" because it took so long, but that's not even what puzzled me that night.
The puzzler was the server who came over to take our orders. I asked him if he could describe the special, a "Mixed Grill" of Longfin Rockefeller and grilled seafood. His eyes widened like Mantan Moreland in a zombie flick, and the poor guy stammered something about it being his first night alone on the floor, so he really couldn't describe the special.
The special, mind you! There was a sign in the lobby advertising this dish. It's not like I was looking for references and educational background of the specific fish. I have great sympathy for harried restaurant employees on a hectic evening, but this guy was either "not up to snuff," as Jack Nicholson described Dermot Mulroney in "About Schmidt," or someone running that place sent him out there unarmed. You got to at least tell your servers some basic info about the special. Don't you?
The other funny thing is, he didn't even offer to get someone who could describe the meal for me. What he did provide was an awkward silence, after which I said, "Uh, could you maybe find someone who could? I'm interested in getting it, but I really want to know what the deal is with it." Hey, I'm not the most articulate restaurant customer perhaps, but I gave him more info than he gave me.
To me, part of the restaurant experience is being able to rely on a learned opinion from the person who's gonna bring you the food. The first time I went to Bonefish, I was blown away by a server who gladly talked me through the different sauces they had, made some recommendations based on stuff I told her, and generally seemed to know what she was doing. Of course, that was on a weekday afternoon. Maybe I'm asking for too much on a busy weekend evening? Maybe we need to start hitting the restaurants at more reasonable hour for dinner...like, say, 11:00 A.M.
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