Day: November 18, 2012

Beast In The Balcony

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If you ask me the balcony-vomiting that happened last Wednesday night at the Cort theatre during a performance of Grace (and more particularly during a monologue performed by costar Paul Rudd) is a metaphor for the devolution of U.S. society and Broadway culture.

It’s not that some guy got so stinking that he threw up, and not even that it happened while attending a play (although that’s pretty bad). What gets me is that the guy couldn’t even manage to throw up in a waste basket or at least somewhere near his seat. No, he had to lean over and hurl over the balcony and splatter about a dozen people sitting in the orchestra below. That is the mark of an absolute animal. I know what it is to be shitfaced and convulsing (the stuff I did when I was 15 and 16 was ridiculous), but I never spewed on somebody’s lap or head. We’re speaking about an appalling lack of couth and control. The guy should have been taken out behind the building and severely dealt with. Actions have consequences.

Dirty Girl

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Once again, another “cold open” SNL skit that’s very knowing and sharp and news-following, and yet not in the least bit funny. Flat bordering on dead. And yet my ratio of enjoyment to mezzo mezzo was/is about 70-30. Gov. Chris Christie (on the jump page) was too obviously reading his lines, but he was somewhat better nonetheless.

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O’Neil Poker: Electric Boogaloo

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Gold Derby‘s Tom O’Neil: “I ran into Anne Thompson and Sasha Stone the other day, and as I walked up to them they were were talking about Lincoln and saying the Best Picture race is already over…it’s won…and I said…oh, come on!” Me: “Aggh! Completely off the beam. Do you think they really believe that or…?” O’Neil: “No, they really meant it.” Here’s the key portion and here’s the whole conversation.

Me: “People don’t really feel turned on by this thing, I’m tellin’ ya. I trust my instincts, I trust the invisible insect antennae coming out of the back of my head and I’m not talking about ‘feel-good’ but something that turns you on and really gets you going, and that’s not happening with Lincoln…not really, not chemically.”

Before all the poison-enzyme, Alien acid-blood assholes start complaining about my bringing up Lincoln again, it was O’Neil who raised it, not I. He was being persistent and I just responded to his questions, and then I decided during editing that I kinda liked how this this part of the conversation turned out so I’ve highlighted it…big deal. Nick Filliponi is banned, but I hope he’s reading this, the dick.

This is Oscar Poker #102, incidentally.

Screeners & Skankitude

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Most of the screeners I’ve received since…I don’t know, mid October? I couldn’t find Bernie but that was the first one. Oh, wait, I just found it. But the photo’s been snapped, resized and uploaded.

Los Angeles used to be a half-skanky town with empty grassy lots and older cars and dumps like the Alta Cienega creating little visual gravy stains. Now the older cars are gone (I can’t remember the last time I saw a beater) and I haven’t seen an empty grassy lot since the late ’80s, but the Alta Cienega lives on! It’s not a complete dump (I stayed there one night after locking myself out of my place) but it’s managed to retain that old fleabag aroma. It has a special Jim Morrison room in honor of a single night in which Morrison and two girlfriends spent the night there.

More than any single image I’ve run across lately (i.e., within the last four or five years), the expression in this photo sums up my basic attitude and world view. Or at the very least, my attitude toward David Poland when I run into him at parties.

Renner Schmenner

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Can you believe those fluttery, 14-year-old-female fangasms the geeks were having last April and May after catching The Avengers? One of the proudest moments of my life happened (or happened to me, as I’m only a conduit for expression and not truly and finally “the author”) when I called it “corporate CG piss in a gleaming silver bucket.”

Second proudest Avengers assessment: “The problem is that Joss Whedon and the Marvel honchos and the other corporate whores who made The Avengers are too tied to corrupt, pre-realized geek-faith ‘reality’ jails and way too invested in maintaining and fortifying revenue streams. If they were truly free of heart and spirit they might…just pull out all the stops and go full whacko.”

Third proudest Avengers assessment: “No comic-book fanboy has ever explained to me the appeal of watching superheroes duke it out as such battles ALWAYS deliver the same back-and-forth. One superhero will assert temporary superiority by pounding the other and then throwing him/her backwards through a wall or a plate of glass or whatever, and then this briefly humbled combatant will recover, shake it off and pound his/her opponent and then throw him/her through a wall or a plate of glass or whatever. Repeat ad infinitum. This is all that ever happens. Have the people who write and make these films descended to the level of dumb beasts?