March 6, 2008
Yes, there is no justice
I am still recovering from last night’s season finale of “Project Runway.” (There was a time when that last sentence would have embarrassed me, but I have evolved past feeling any shame over being addicted to a reality show about fashion designers.) The result, if you ask me, was a travesty. The annoying Christian—an arrogant little guttersnipe who can’t stop saying the word “fierce”—triumphed over the humble and talented Rami, and I just don’t think it’s right.
I don’t consider myself much of a judge of fashion, but I thought Christian’s stuff was weak. It was somehow both over the top and monotonous, not to mention profoundly unsexy, looking more like battle armor than clothing. Rami’s work was subtle, sleek, and classy, and on the whole he just deserved it more. But why should I care so much? I need to take a deep breath and get on with my day.
Posted by bill at 10:18 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
March 4, 2008
All Hail Ambassador Magma
You can’t turn over a rock anywhere in cyberspace without finding a whole universe underneath. In an idle moment today I happened to think of a Japanese TV show from when I was very young about giant humanoid robots who could also turn into rocketships. About all I could remember was that there was a character called “Goldar” and that he was the patriarch of a family of these creatures that I probably cannot legally refer to as “transformers.”
Three minutes later I was in possession of the following facts:
• Goldar’s wife was named “Silvar” and his son was named “Gam.”
• The show was called “Space Giants” in the U.S., but in Japan both it and the Goldar character were named “Ambassador Magma” (for fun, say that aloud to yourself in your best Dr. Evil voice).
• “Ambassador Magma, despite his robot-like appearance, is not a robot, but actually, a living giant forged from gold.” (says Wikipedia)
• Far from being forgotten, as I would have thought, “Space Giants” is currently at the center of a trademark dispute between Powerslam Productions and one Bernard Schulman. Powerslam gives their side of the story at some length here. For some legal reason they are no longer selling the (11-volume!) DVD set but “giving it away” when you buy an autographed “Space Giants” comic book. Even so the price is more than my idle curiosity tinged with nostalgia warrants spending, and anyway I don’t need 11 more DVDs cluttering up my living room. But I’m glad to know it’s out there.
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June 4, 2007
The Sopranos, end minus 1
Since viewing last night’s penultimate episode of The Sopranos (and how often do you get to use the word “penultimate,” accurately anyway, in your daily discourse?), I have been mulling over a theory that is as yet half-formed, or maybe half-baked. But here goes.
There is no escaping the fact that in this run-up to the end of the series, David Chase has been wrestling with questions of morality at the highest level. Tony Soprano is a lifelong criminal, a multiple murderer, a serial adulterer, intermittently abusive to his wife and son, and on the whole a menace to society (as emphasized by lingering shots of asbestos being dumped into a lake on Tony’s authority). The question is, do Tony’s human elements—his affection for his family and friends, his self-awareness, his philosophical bent, his love of ducks, for Chrissake—balance the negatives to make him worthy of some sort of redemption? Or is he just a charming con man who uses those human elements to justify his bad behavior to those around him—and to himself?
Chase’s answer seems to be the latter. It has been verrrry interesting watching the dissolution of Tony’s relationship with Dr. Jennifer Melfi, who has finally come to accept that she is a sort of accomplice, helping Tony feel better about himself so he can continue his sociopathic ways. It occurs to me sitting here just now that Dr. Melfi is and always has been a stand-in for Chase himself, his way of conducting a dialogue with the monster he’s created. And if that’s so, Melfi’s final rejection of Tony represents Chase distancing himself from the character that made him rich and famous, and Melfi’s acceptance of responsibility represents Chase accepting responsibility for what he’s put into the world.
Because, let’s face it, despite it all, we love Tony. We sympathize with him and root for him and don’t want him to die. And if it came right down to it we couldn’t explain why except to say that on some level we would like to be him. He has fun, he does as he pleases, and he gets away with murder, quite literally. Most of us aren’t going to imitate Tony in any major way, but the idea that it’s alright to do things you know are wrong because they feel good is a seductive and dangerous one. By accepting Tony we accept the idea of selectively swtiching off our consciences, and that’s a slippery slope.
Which is why this last episode is going to be so important. Will Chase let Tony—and by extension us, the audience—off the hook? Or will Tony finally be called to account for his crimes?
We shall see, we shall see. But once viewed through this lens, The Sopranos in its entirety becomes a critique not just of gangster stories, but of the whole human tendency to revel in the bad deeds of others. We love to watch Scarface or The Godfather and we tell ourselves it’s OK because “it’s not real.” Or we read about Al Capone or John Gotti—or Jeffrey Dahmer or Charlie Manson—and get off on it, and it’s OK because “I didn’t do it, they did it.” I think the whole point of The Sopranos may be to say no, it’s not OK. You may not be responsible for it, but you are affected by it, and it’s important to be aware of that. It’s not that we should avoid depictions of crime and violence—that would be impossible, and pointless. But we should resist getting so swept up in the thrill of it that we forget who we are.
Or maybe I’m overanalyzing. That seems like am ambitious agenda for a TV show, but then The Sopranos is nothing if not ambitious. Your thoughts, dear reader(s)?
Posted by bill at 12:06 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
April 7, 2007
Why Advertising Sucks, Pt. 639
I feel violated. There I am, finally sitting down to watch my beloved 30 Rock. The first commercial break starts, and before I can even reach for the remote, I hear this:
Sheryl Crow, on tour. Four weeks in and her hair still looks fabulous!
I mean, after all the precautions I take to avoid having to listen to this kind of gibberish. Geez.
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March 12, 2007
Alert the Media: New Sitcom Blows
So, yes, it’s been a while. I missed you too, blog. I wish I had some good news to report, but the only note on the culture front I can think of concerns the new Rob Corddry sitcom, The Winner, which I am sad to report is an absolute piece of crap. It was all I could do to make it through the first five minutes, which were jam-packed with tired characters, ancient jokes, and a ridiculously obtrusive laugh track. Supposedly Seth MacFarlane of The Family Guy is involved with this abortion, though it’s hard to see how. This show makes Chris Elliott’s Get a Life—from which it cops its premise wholesale—look like T.S. Eliot.
I hope Corddry didn’t give up his day job—I mean, night job—on The Daily Show for The Winner, which should be gone mercifully soon. Then again, maybe it’ll become a huge hit, while the rest of us continue to wait for the DVD of Andy Richter Controls the Universe. Who knows.
Now I must go watch several episodes of 30 Rock to get this bad taste out of my mouth.
Posted by bill at 6:42 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
October 18, 2006
All Hail the Olbermann
I lifted this picture from the fan site Olbermann.org, which captioned it “Attractively Rumpled.” And who am I to argue? The salt-and-pepper hair is terribly distinguished, and only a little bit satanic.
I’ve had a little man-crush lately on MSNBC’s Keith Olbermann, who’s the only guy out there in the vast wasteland we call TV news tellin’ it like it is. (Other than Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert, of course; but since they’re still nominally comedians, they don’t count.) Hammering every day on the Bush administration’s latest travesties isn’t exactly a difficult job, but Olbermann does it with an admirable mix of passion and precision.
Every time I watch one of Olbermann’s “Special Comments”—carefully written, articulately delivered, cogently argued, and peppered with literary and historical references—I think to myself, “I can’t believe I’m actually seeing this on TV in the 21st century.” It’s so counter to the general trend that it seems like a miracle. And while you could argue that Olbermann’s nightly outrage has become a tad predictable, still, it feels like he’s expressing the outrage I should be feeling, if only I had the energy. And a TV show. So I say, keep it up, Keith. I love what you’re doing, but not in a way that should make you uncomfortable.
Posted by bill at 5:54 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
August 7, 2006
We can't rewind, we've gone too far
Put the blame on Duran Duran.
I’ve been thinking a lot about the 80s lately. The recent 25th birthday of MTV was for me a bittersweet occasion, and not just because it marks those of us who can remember life before MTV as officially Old. It’s also because I feel about those days of the early 80s the way some people feel about the 60s: It was an era when things were changing, the old rules no longer applied, and anything seemed possible. And looking back now with the right set of eyes, you can definitely see the high-water mark—the place where the wave finally broke and rolled back.
The mid-70s had been the era of disco and progressive rock, twin blights that threatened to extinguish music as we know it. (I am grossly oversimplifying, of course. There was a lot of great music in the mid-70s—consider the work of David Bowie, Kraftwerk, and Lee Perry just for starters—but I’m making a point here.) Then just when things were at their bleakest, along came punk and new wave. Never mind the Sex Pistols, how about heroes of the revolution like Devo, Wire, Gang of Four, X, the Clash, the Cure…well, it’s a long list…anyway, this new generation of artists overthrew the status quo and suddenly the future looked bright again. Well, exciting anyway, if not always bright. (Bauhaus, I’m talking to you.)
Then MTV came along, and partly because it was marketed to kids my age, and partly because it had 24 hours to fill every day, it gave exposure to a lot of these new artists. By 1981 we were already well into the second stage of the revolution, where some of the originators had fizzled out and been replaced by a deluge of bandwagon-jumpers. Even so, MTV gave airplay to people who never made it on radio or had been pigeonholed as one-hit wonders. Sure, “Whip It” had been a big hit for Devo, but only MTV played “Beautiful World.” Rock radio paid lip service to the Clash, but never played them aside from “Train in Vain” and the songs from Combat Rock. Did you ever hear “Radio Clash” on an AOR station? I don’t think so, but you saw it on MTV.
Back in those days, when MTV actually played music videos, it was a good place to discover new bands. I’d never heard of X before I saw the video for “The Hungry Wolf” on 120 Minutes. My first prolonged Bowie exposure came from the videos from Scary Monsters. And if, as an MTV viewer, you tended to end up with records by people like Naked Eyes, Classix Nouveaux, and EBN-OZN in your collection, was that so bad?
So where did it all go wrong? I blame Duran Duran. Not that they were the worst band around—they had some good songs, in fact—but the videos featuring the Durannies, pretty young men in pastel 80s fashions, were the beginning of MTV’s slide from innovation to mere trendiness. It was inevitable anyway; given the power of the medium, it was only a matter of time until the agents of the Long Plastic Hallway were going to swoop in and take over. Pretty soon mainstream artists dominated MTV, then it started doing half-hour shows instead of playing videos, and so on until it became the all-day crapfest it is today.
Too bad. For a minute there it looked like quality music and mainstream music were going to become, if not one and the same, at least agreeably overlapping. I know that sounds naïve today, like thinking that everyone’s going to start practicing peace and love and wearing flowers in their hair, but it was a different time. Maybe this generation coming up now, the MySpace kids, will finally dislodge the Plastic Mafia from its dominant position in the music industry. Probably not, but it doesn’t hurt to dream.
Posted by bill at 3:43 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
April 19, 2006
Colbert Does It Again
In case you missed it, it’s not too late to catch a rerun of last night’s Colbert Report, which contained a brilliant riff inspired by an article in the Journal of Paleolimnology. (How many TV shows can say that?) The Journal published a study theorizing that, rather than walking on water, Jesus could in fact have been walking on a freakish patch of ice. (What an idiotic thing to study—but never mind.)
Stephen took offense at this, and by way of proving that it is possible to walk on water, showed a clip from the Cars’ “Magic” video, where Ric Ocasek strolls across the surface of a swimming pool. That would have been enough for me, but the camera panned left to reveal Ric Ocasek himself, who testified that a) he was not walking on ice in the video and b) he was willing to give Jesus the benefit of the doubt.
Then Ocasek helped Stephen add the Journal of Paleolimnology to his “On Notice” board, and Stephen asked Ocasek if there was anyone he’d like to add. Ocasek replied “Todd Rundgren,” a reference to the fact that Rundgren is currently touring with a couple of ex-Cars in a band called “the New Cars.” Rundgren was added to the board and Cars fans everywhere slept a little easier.
Posted by bill at 5:19 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
April 12, 2006
The Sopranos & the Rainy Season
The only upside of this endless fucking rain we’ve been having is that it’s prompted me to finally get serious about The Sopranos, which I’ve been holding in reserve for just such an occasion. It’s all good, but the show really hits a peak in the fourth season, where I am now. Each episode is a little universe unto itself. I’ve watched several times now one where Johnny Sack, underboss of the New York family, goes insane with rage over a joke Joe Pantoliano’s character makes about his refrigerator-sized wife.
Spoiler alert: I’m not going to hold anything back, so if you haven’t seen this yet, by all means go rent it right now, then come back and finish reading after you’ve watched it.
Vince Curatola gives an incredible performance as Johnny. There’s no crack in the illusion whatsoever; only much later does it occur to you that it’s someone acting, pretending to feel and say and do those things. The contrast between the sweetness of Johnny’s love for his wife and the violent anger it inspires in him is an amazing thing to behold. You watch with horror as he undoes himself over this insult, insisting that the Pantoliano character, Ralphie, be killed. Everyone around him, including his boss, Carmine, views this as a gross overreaction, but Johnny can’t let it go. He hires an assassin to take out Ralphie despite Carmine’s disapproval, a major violation of the rules. Meanwhile, a plot has been set in motion to whack Johnny, who is now considered bad for business.
For a while it really looks like two guys are going to die over a fat joke. Then the whole thing just evaporates. Johnny leaves his house on his way to Rhode Island, where he’s going to disappear, just as a psycho-looking Asian guy walks into Ralphie’s hotel with a gun. Then Johnny remembers something he meant to bring along on his trip and returns home, where he finds his wife in the basement digging into her secret stash of candy bars. In that moment, the veil is lifted from his eyes, and he calls off the hit on Ralphie, which in turn allows him to go on living. I’m in awe of the way this whole thing is orchestrated; it’s totally crazy and totally convincing. Enough to make me forget the rain, for a while at least.
Posted by bill at 8:36 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
June 3, 2005
I wasn't kidding
When old buddy Willem of Medastyle fame pointed out that an Abe Vigoda "ink signature with printed quotation" was available on eBay for $8, I said that I was going to buy it, and I did - I have to love myself for that.
In truth, it's just a 3-by-5 card with some typed text and a signature that I have to presume to be Abe's. But someday, maybe, Abe Vigoda is going to die, and then I'm going to be a wealthy man.
Posted by bill at 1:11 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
May 24, 2005
The Abe Vigoda Phenomenon
This week, I’ve been watching the first season of “Barney Miller” on DVD. Although a bit dated at times, it features excellent work from the underrated Gregory Sierra, the late Jack Soo, and of course the great Abe Vigoda. The weird thing is that half of Abe’s bits on the show are about how he’s so old and has one foot in the grave.
This was 30 years ago.
And yet, according to abevigoda.com—which posts hourly updates—Abe Vigoda lives on. His IMDB page even has a credit in 2005; he appeared on “The Third Annual TV Land Awards.”
Now, I have no problem with this. I do not wish death upon Abe Vigoda, by any means. I just think it’s weird. What is Abe taking to keep himself alive? Is he a vampire, or some other sort of undead? I hate to think of Abe having to suck the blood of younger, less talented actors to stay alive. Wait a minute…I must now go and write that screenplay…I’m going to call it Feeding Abe Vigoda. It will show Abe being cast in an “O.C.”-style primetime soap with a bunch of twentysomethings, who one by one begin to mysteriously disappear. Look for it in theaters in 2007.
In the meantime, here are a few Abe Vigoda factoids:
• For a period in the 80s, Abe was widely believed to be dead. And I mean more so than now; a poorly fact-checked People article had referred to him as “the late Abe Vigoda.” Apparently this led to a rising demand in show business for “Abe Vigoda-type” actors, while Abe himself became ironically underemployed.
• Abe was considered for the part of the monster in Young Frankenstein. It’s hard to imagine anyone topping Peter Boyle’s performance, but still, I’d like to have seen Abe’s version of “Puttin’ on the Ritz.”
• According to nndb.com, Abe is straight. Just in case you were wondering.
• According to the ad on Google, eBay is offering “Great deals on Abe Vigoda.” Word to the wise: Make sure it’s the genuine item before closing the deal.
Posted by bill at 12:24 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack