ClownCarBlog.com

Movie/Social Event Review

The entire clown car brigade convened for a movie recently...

OFFICE SPACE is the mirror of workday culture? Is THAT what you think? NO NO NO!!!

FORBIDDEN ZONE (Hervé Villechaize, Susan Tyrell, Danny Elfman 1980) IS THE BIBLE OF ON-THE-JOB LIFE at least at many places where I've worked. Are you like me? Have you ridden many a company all the way down to bankruptcy, dissolution and the selling of assets? WELL, IT'S JUST LIKE FORBIDDEN ZONE. EXACTLY.

Unrelated addendum: What's next? I ask you: WHAT'S NEXT??

The Friday Playlist v1.0

This gives me an idea I'll begin incorporating to break the boredom on Fridays ... behold ... The Friday Playlist. Since celebrity mix tapes suck (sayeth Slate), I figure the underground is a better avenue to get hipper playlists (to the extent I qualify as "hip"). On with the show ...

1. Joan Jett - Everyday People
I fast forward through the playlist on my MP3 player like there's no tomorrow, but this one never gets passed over.
2. Liz Phair - Good Love Never Dies
3. Liz Phair - Extraordinary
So I've got a new CD, can you tell?
4. Dio - Hungry for Heaven
Back to retroville, this one is just a bit fitting for my mood as of late.
5. Eric Martin - Can't Hold On/Can't Let Go
A bit on the biographical side.
6. Alcatrazz - Hiroshima Mon Amour
7. Alcatrazz - Island in the Sun
Rediscovering my guitar roots here, with Yngwie at his best. Not the most over-the-top work he's done, but by far the best example of neoclassical guitar work and a reminder of why I love that genre.
8. Eddie Money - Save Me
Nice Queen cover from a tribute CD. I suppose this qualifies as my Morressey moment of moping when I listen to this one.
9. The Darkness - Givin' Up
In case I get too mopey, this is the ideal antidote.
10. Night Ranger - Rumors in the Air
Another guilty pleasure for guitar fans ... Brad Gillis' usage of the whammy bar is entirely underappreciated.

The Sad State of Documentaries Today

Call me weird if you must (or it it just makes you feel better about yourself), but I've obviously been a fan of the documentary trend that's taken over the arthouse movie set as of late. From the nondescript-yet-poignant "Blind Spot" to the artsy "Winged Migration" to the restrospective "Mayor of Sunset Strip" most of the better docu-movies have at least something to offer the artform while making a pretty useful statement within the art.

But oh how the times are changing. Chalk up the moment to Michael Moore's melodramatic pitch for "Bowling for Columbine" as a movie they don't want you to see. As if the "they" are some evildoing nogoodnicks out to wreck havoc on the world. Turns out the evildoer was Mickey Mouse. Not to be outdone, Moore has obviously pitched a more strident battle in setting up the PR bonanza for his new flick "Farenheit 9/11." Same principle, just add steroids ala Barry Bonds.

Next on the list?

"Super Size Me."

Yeah, the movie's already out in theaters, its having a good run. Its fairly fun viewing, and like Moore, Morgan Spurlock mixes some very good points with some very bad. Also like Moore, he tries to milk a little molehill of controversy into a mountain of publicity:

After a low-level MTV employee asked for changes in an ad for the hit documentary "Super Size Me," the film's distributors tried to parlay the dust-up into a Michael Moore-type publicity blitz.

The dispute was quickly resolved ? the ad will run, uncut, starting tonight ? but the episode offers a glimpse into the new world of documentary marketing, in which controversy and big-league publicity gambits are increasingly part of the strategy for box-office success.

...

According to an e-mail provided by IDP Films, which is distributing the movie, an employee in MTV's ad clearance department said the network was rejecting the commercial because it was "disparaging toward fast-food restaurants."

For the ad to be approved, the employee told IDP, it would need to delete the phrase "you'll die," a comment on the alleged effect of the monthlong fast-food diet. The MTV employee said the commercial also could not air during a span in which a fast-food ad was airing and that a scene of the filmmaker about to vomit must be axed.

An MTV spokeswoman, Janet Hill, said that although revisions were initially requested by a "junior-level employee," the decision was overturned by a higher-up after he learned of the "mistake." Hill said the spot would air in a way that makes "commercial sense."

The article rightfully notes the controversy surrounding two other major releases: "Fog of War" and "Capturing the Friedmans." I'm not sure I put those in the same league as the cases of Moore & Spurlock's attempt to claim themselves martyrs. The prime issue in those other two was about the content, the veracity, and/or accuracy ... as if Moore had released "Columbine" without trying to claim people were attempting to censor him. But the recent trend towards martyrdom is a bit disconcerting. I'm curious if its possible to have a new award in this genre for Best Director in a documentary who doesn't put himself on a cross. I suspect their acceptance speech will be much shorter than Moore's was for "Columbine."

SIDEBAR: a little more on the "Super Size Me" concept. If you want a bit more thoroughness and detail on the topic without the sensationalism, Harvard Magazine has a great article entitled "The Way We Eat Now." (also available as a PDF for better printing). I'm about halfway through it as I packed it for bus reading today. More over the weekend, but its a great read, perhaps warranting of a few different CCB takes.

The Second Coming

The moment we've all been waiting for (there's no denying it) ... Andy Kaufman returns!!!!!

Something to Be Left Speechless By

Worster Album Covers Ever II

OK, the Manowar cover was seen a mile or two ahead of this list's creation. But THIS ONE scares the holy sh*t outta me. I simply MUST own it. I'm a bit torn between making "Muffle That Fart" or "Sho Nuff Danjus" as my personal anthem.

I'm under the impression this woman is to R&B what The Darkness is to navel-gazing mope-rock.

... then again, THIS might be more on order for something a wee bit more innocent.

PBF Implodes

PRETTY BOY FLOYD To Break Up?

CRAP!
CRAP!
CRAP!
CRAP!
CRAP!
CRAP!
CRAP!
CRAP!
CRAP!
CRAP!

In other news, it would appear I've got an opening for July 24th in my social calendar.

Continued Plotting for the ANTIUberfest

My vague idea for a short film convocation at one of my bases of operations develops thusly so far:

A. It will be more cramped and less fun than Uberfests.
B. Formatting threatens to reduce to this: either
Resolved Choice: A FUNNY THING HAPPENED ON THE WAY TO THE FORUM
or
BADFILM ROULETTE, in which everyone brings a rotten cinematic effort WITHOUT TELLING ANYONE THE TITLE UNTIL SHOWTIME and a vote is taken as to which is most awful. The winning film is shown and the winner gets a SWELL PRIZE.

Alcohol will no doubt be involved in either event.

To be continued...

And Now, For Something Completely Different

Am I the only one who sees a big of suggestive advertising in this old week's worth of Gil Thorp cartoons? (Mon & Tues, at least)

R.I.P. Kitty

Lost one of the RHPS greats today to cancer. I am proud to have shared a stage with her. I even left early from Lindsay Layer's B-Day party in Galveston because I found out at the last minute that Kitty had been cast as Magenta to my Riff Raff. It was an opportunity I dared not pass up. She will be missed.

I suggest we retire the Greggie for Trixie in honor of the late and very great Kitty:

2002 Best Trixie - Kitty - always provocative, always entertaining. Whether fully clothed or not, Kitty is by far the most creative Trixie seen yet in Rocky.

Tonight On Kilborn ...

Tonight's guests on Kilborn ... Snoop Dogg and Morrissey

I'm guessing the TV Guide has something like this for the descrip: "Vocalist, Morrissey whines about why he's not dead yet ... Rapper, Snoop Dogg obliges."

In The Year 2000 ...

This just cheers me up as I read it, so I pass it on in a weird fit of good karma ...

Commencement Speech to the Havard Class of 2000
by Conan O'Brien

After freshman year I moved to Mather House. Mather House, incidentally, was designed by the same firm that built Hitler's bunker. In fact, if Hitler had conducted the war from Mather House, he'd have shot himself a year earlier. 1985 seems like a long time ago now. When I had my Class Day, you students would have been seven years old. Seven years old. Do you know what that means? Back then I could have beaten any of you in a fight. And I mean bad. It would be no contest. If any one here has a time machine, seriously, let's get it on, I will whip your seven year old butt. When I was here, they sold diapers at the Coop that said "Harvard Class of 2000." At the time, it was kind of a joke, but now I realize you wore those diapers. How embarrassing for you. A lot has happened in fifteen years. When you think about it, we come from completely different worlds. When I graduated, we watched movies starring Tom Cruise and listened to music by Madonna. I come from a time when we huddled around our TV sets and watched "The Cosby Show" on NBC, never imagining that there would one day be a show called "Cosby" on CBS. In 1985 we drove cars with driver's side airbags, but if you told us that one day there'd be passenger side airbags, we'd have burned you for witchcraft.

...

So, I was 28 and, once again, I had no job. I had good writing credits in New York, but I was filled with disappointment and didn't know what to do next. I started smelling suede on my fingertips. And that's when The Simpsons saved me. I got a job there and started writing episodes about Springfield getting a Monorail and Homer going to College. I was finally putting my Harvard education to good use, writing dialogue for a man who's so stupid that in one episode he forgot to make his own heart beat. Life was good.

...

I've dwelled on my failures today because, as graduates of Harvard, your biggest liability is your need to succeed. Your need to always find yourself on the sweet side of the bell curve. Because success is a lot like a bright, white tuxedo. You feel terrific when you get it, but then you're desperately afraid of getting it dirty, of spoiling it in any way.

I left the cocoon of Harvard, I left the cocoon of Saturday Night Live, I left the cocoon of The Simpsons. And each time it was bruising and tumultuous. And yet, every failure was freeing, and today I'm as nostalgic for the bad as I am for the good.

So, that's what I wish for all of you: the bad as well as the good. Fall down, make a mess, break something occasionally. And remember that the story is never over. If it's all right, I'd like to read a little something from just this year: "Somehow, Conan O'Brien has transformed himself into the brightest star in the Late Night firmament. His comedy is the gold standard and Conan himself is not only the quickest and most inventive wit of his generation, but quite possible the greatest host ever."

Ladies and Gentlemen, Class of 2000, I wrote that this morning, as proof that, when all else fails, there's always delusion.

I'll go now, to make bigger mistakes and to embarrass this fine institution even more. But let me leave you with one last thought: If you can laugh at yourself loud and hard every time you fall, people will think you're drunk.

Thank you.

UPDATE: In the year 2004, however, one of Conan's writers is hitting the bigtime over at Slate. Good reading, just check it all out.

The Evolution Of High Society

How has the web gone from dinosaur pictures and a phone book to this? This just goes to show that the net is shaping up to be the greatest repository of knowledge (both real and made-up) in the history of mankind. Props to Jen for pointing out the site.

On another note, Forbidden Zone is playing this weekend at the River Oaks. I believe we will have a quorum of Clowns in attendance for Friday night's show. How can you say no to Oingo Boingo?

Subservient Chicken in the news ...

Poultry-Geist

I don't even know what to say ... just read it.

Ralphieboy's Web Romp #55

So here's some links to alleviate the boredom of your miserable lives:

A survey of cold war historical sites
Reviews of film soundtracks
Information Security Magazine
Little Steven's classic rock show
The new age music authority
Guide to classic television
Proud home of Chicken Man

A Night At The Movies

Sudden Impact

So much for suburban schools being considered stellar learning factories ....

There is some sort of simmering feud going on, started last year over a girl. The details remain as hazy as the events that follow. They stare at each other, the two groups of young men, and the stares give way to smack-talk over a recent basketball game between the two schools, Fred's Quail Valley and Roderick's Lake Olympia. Friends on each side escalate the argument in front of the theater.

"His friends was like, I had been waitin' for this and all this and I was about to get beat up and stuff," says Roderick, an eighth-grader whose body fits somewhere between the awkwardness of later boyhood and the sturdiness of the pro athlete he hopes to become. "And I was like, this is why, who's gonna come beat me up and then he was bumpin' and then the security guard came around the corner."

The boys get the message: If this thing is going to happen, it can't happen here. They walk off into the night, still yelling at each other, meeting up in the back parking lot of the nearby Methodist hospital.

An AMC spokesman would later say that the private security guard saw no signs of "hostility," which was why he made no attempt to intervene.

"One of his friends was like, man, y'all gonna do this or what?" says Roderick. "And then I asked my friend, I was like, man, should I fight this dude? And he was like, man, I don't know. That's up to you."

The story also confirms my belief in attending the "grown up theaters" of Alamo and Landmark. Occassionally, outtings will require the AMC or Cinemark route, but I can save those for less attended evenings, at least.

Thought For The Day

Two events for today and I have to pick ONE ....

Traci Lords appearing at Alamo Drafthouse

- or -

The Hotel Play @ The Axiom

... other events for the weekend:
Friday Midnite - Hedwig [the movie] @ River Oaks
Saturday AM - plot to take over the world
Saturday PM - avoid awkward social encounters
Sunday AM - trick question, this doesn't exist
Sunday PM - Hedwig [the live show] @ Fitzgeralds

Any fellow travellers, RSVP in the comments as some of these may require hitchhiking with appropriate remuneration.

Hey! I'm this guy!

Man's shrinking brain puzzles doctors

"He can watch a movie a hundred times and still not remember how it ends.

His wife can tell him to be ready in a half an hour to visit a friend’s house, and within 15 minutes he will have no idea why she’s disappointed that he’s not dressed."

The Irregular Goat Sex Update

Hey, why did we start this blog in the first place? Oh yeah ... to give full coverage of goat sex issues. With that in mind ...

A goat's eyes are so beautiful

Stop me when this story starts making sense:

Tanya Gold finds that love affairs with pets, as in the Edward Albee play, are not as unusual as you'd think

Six weeks ago, I went to a party at a policewoman's house. She works in the incident room at New Scotland Yard and, over a bucket of booze and a mountain of cigarettes, she talked of gun crime, drugs and the war on terror. Then she dropped a firework.

"We have a bestiality incident recorded every day, you know," she told me. "Every single day."

I went home stunned. Who are these people? Do they rape fish? Rabbits? Is it consensual? (Is it fun?)

I went to the Apollo Theatre on Shaftesbury Avenue in London to see Edward Albee's play The Goat. Jonathan Pryce, as Martin, an architect, declaimed his love for a goat named Sylvia. "Yes, I'm screwing her," he tells his wife. "I'm seeing her and we are having an affair. She is my first. She is my only." His wife cuts Sylvia's throat.

I tracked Albee down to his hotel. His play is not so much about bestiality as the prison of sexual convention, he says. But, he insists, many of his colleagues on the faculty at Houston University have had sex with animals. He asks me: "Have you ever looked into the eyes of a goat close up? They are very beautiful." No, I haven't. I don't like the smell. I like my animals dead on a plate with vegetables.

Albee pauses, then continues. "Bestiality happens with a greater degree of frequency than we are prepared to realise. Women usually do it with dogs and horses, and men do it with a wider variety - pigs, sheep and even geese."

The flickering flames you hear in the background are my degree from University of Houston being lit atorch. Sadly, there's even more in the story ... go read, then grab a barf bag.

Virtual Church?

Church of Fools Opens Online

In today's technophile climate, it was only a matter of time before a church dragged itself onto the web by having a virtual service. The UK-based Church of Fools is backed by the Methodist Church, has virtual sermons and is collecting real donations. Thusfar the site has been hammered by pranksters online (see related article here for more info), but could this experiment lead to a revolution in the way people worship? I don't know how well it would work for the Catholic Church, as how would you get the communion wafer & wine?

The Carbohydrate Manifesto

The Carbohydrate Manifesto

God Bless this take on food ... I've long been of the opinion that any diet that forbids or restricts my love of Italian food is one not worth exploring. Besides, everyone knows diets don't work. Excercise is where it's at if you really, truly want to cut down on the workload of that bathroom scale.

Anyways, back to the original post. Today, apparently, is NATIONAL CARB AWARENESS DAY. Not a day too soon if you ask me. The poster has a nice little movie to make his point. I think I'll celebrate by hitting the cheap-ass Italian buffet place here in Westchase after work. Then I'll waddle on home and dream about jogging off the carbs I just took in.

Reminds me, I've not weighed myself lately and I probably should. I know I've lost weight over the last few months. I'm just a tad worried that the scale won't agree with me in regards to precisely how much weight has been lost. Secrets of the success? I'll unveil my "Walk Around a Lot" excercise program later on. The sequel may well involve the title of "Live in Houston and Endure Its Unbearable Heat" ... or something like that.

One-O-Three-1

Indie 103.1 radio is available online. Turned on, from of all places, by the Chron, Steve Jones has a new afternoon show, but among the other draws ... Nina Blackwood with a weekend show! Giving it a test drive today, so we'll see how it goes. Other standard options are to spin the MP3s on my hard drive or tune in to HardRadio.com.

Movies: THE MIDDLE OF NEXT WEEK

At some point in the near future (barring legislation to control it), the annoying buzzing of the mufflers of riced-out Japanese automobiles worldwide will sympathetically vibrate together, striking the resonant frequency of the Earth. Tectonically, the planet's shape will be induced to change from that of an oblate spheroid to an exact duplicate of the head of Mel Brooks. As people fall from the nose to the lips (about 300 miles down), they will be heard to yell "oy vey" even though many will not be Jewish. (Random college professor: "I support that hypothesis; I, for no apparent reason, also suspect that nude clones of W.C. Fields will be caused to form from bacteria in the mesosphere. Can YOU prove it won't happen?!")

Starring Madonna as the President, Lyle Waggoner as the Secretary of Defense, Al Roker as Jonathan Winters and Jerry Mathers as the Beaver.

Infrequent Concert Agenda Update

Since I noticed that Liz Phair is back in town for a mini-estrogen fest, I've got to update the to-do list of musical happenings:

6/4 - Seinfeld - Jones Hall
6/13 - Tesla - Verizon
6/25 - Vans Warped Tour (Bouncing Souls, Good Charlotte, The Eyeliners) - Reliant
7/24 - Pretty Boy Floyd - Cardi's
8/9 - Liz Phair - Verizon
9/4 - Heart - Arena Theater
9/23 - Van Halen - Toyota Center

The pace of great shows slows down with fall, but there's a few notables here, Van Hagar key among them. Presently deciding how momentous the occassion is to warrant $75 on seats that put me in the lower bowl, opposite end, high row number. Decisions ...

Let's Try This Again

The past weekend was a bit improvised, so the Hotel Play didn't happen. A second effort to take that in will happen this weekend. All of one thing that was on the plan for last week did happen, albeit belatedly:

Super Size Me - it didn't live up to expectations. Biggest failing of the movie happens on Day Two of the McDiet ... the heroic narrator/producer/dieting fool, Morgan Spurlock, vomits upon downing an entire Double Quarter Pounder meal with soda ... supersized. What a freakin' wuss. Other scenes depict him telling his doctor and/or the camera that he's depressed. And I'm also supposed to feel sorry for him when his girlfriend says the sex has deteriorated to the point where she has to get on top.

There's moments in the movie that have a point, but they're few and far between. Spurlock proves to be half the interregator that Michael Moore is as he's stymied by telephone requests to have an interview with someone at McDonalds. All in all, this is a second or third-rate Bowling for Columbine, complete with cartoon narrations of various points ... so as to increase the credibility of the whole shebang.

Recommendation: wait to rent it, or catch a matinee (which is what I did).

No.

Don't DO this to yourself.

Not-Quite-So-Daily Movie Update

With a full slate on Friday of culture to absorb, there's still movies to fit into this schedule called life. Let's start with one load of crap worth skipping:

Porn Industry Rises to the defense of America!

GI Rape Photos Came from Porn Sites, Used for Propaganda: Report

I swear, when I saw this headline, I honestly thought I was up to the moment to come up with some witty, snappy thought that would just floor everyone. I'm clearly not. This is just ... odd. :eave it to the porn industry to protect America's credibility in the world. I can now tell my mother that porn is good for something.

Just To Make Everyone's Head Explode ...

Three tidbits to pass on that should confuse, confound, and befuddle:

Speaks for itself...

http://www.johnkerryisadouchebagbutimvotingforhimanyway.com/

(Hat tip to tink)

Aw crap

Alan King dies Sunday

Another brick in the foundation of better modern entertainment is now lost to us.

Iraq Prison Torture Issue

My take on that: fortunately, the material that got out will no doubt finger the identities of the torturers as well as the victims.

Bear in mind, though, the double standard afoot that while it's not
acceptable for a western power to run afoul of the Geneva Conventions
(assuming that country is a signatory power), it may be the will of Allah/God/(insert metaphysical superentity here) that it's okay for some subgroup of Arab (what's an Arab? Many disagree on this WITHIN the category, whatever it is) to enslave or kill all the other Arabs, never mind those ethnics from outside.

I say that toothless backwoods KKK-boosters = Al-Sadr militia. Just a different part of the world and a different religious cover to use as a justification for the local variant of subhumanity.

Al-Sadr = the Tokyo sarin guy = Tim McVeigh. This is the scary part of the future: there have been kooks/smooth operators bearing religious/ethnic justifications for millenia; it's just that now they can get more effective weapons...

Van Helsing:

(as said elsewhere) VAN HELSING: don't believe the reviews. Good, if a bit shallow, romp. And quite a few in-references for old school horror fans like myself. Gives Dracula more screen time than was customary. Beckinsdale's physique is well used. Try this one - which would be one of the few acceptable things in the theaters now, judging from the trailers of other stuff.

(addendum for CCB readers) Main attraction: Beckinsdale's posterior. Double on the horror in-references; paid off well for me. CGI a little annoying but sets and locations were effective. Uses Catholic Church in a productive way (you'll see). Lots of nice, thick mediterranean furniture (Hi Apryl!).

Milwaukee's Bravest Sausage Calls It Quits

Woman Hit by Bat in Sausage Race Retiring

Further proof that occassionally, news surpasses comedy ...

Wisconsin's most famous sausage has decided to retire, but she'll always relish the memories.

Mandy Block, the woman in the Italian sausage costume hit with a bat by Pittsburgh Pirates first baseman Randall Simon last July, won't be in the Milwaukee Brewers' sausage races this summer.

She has decided to retire from competitive sausage racing at Miller Park to take psychology classes at the University of Wisconsin-Madison.

"It's too bad," Block told the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel. "It kind of ended with a bang, though."

Block received attention after Simon hit her over the head with his bat as she passed by the visitors' dugout. Veronica Chandler, the hot dog who tripped over Block's fallen sausage, never ran again.

The whacking was broadcast worldwide, but Block brushed aside the controversy, accepting Simon's apology and declaring herself "just a sausage."

Simon was handcuffed by Milwaukee County sheriff's deputies after the game, taken to a police station and fined $432 for disorderly conduct. Major League Baseball suspended him for three days.

Simon sent Block an autographed bat and apologized several times. When he returned to Miller Park later in the season, as a Chicago Cub, he bought a section of fans Italian sausages.

The Curacao Tourism Board offered its own apology, an all expenses-paid trip for Block and Chandler. Simon is from the small Caribbean island.

Block also was recognized by the National Hot Dog & Sausage Council with a certificate of bravery.

"I'm proud of it," Block said. "I didn't even know there was a hot dog council."

Pac Manhattan

Quick, After Him: Pac-Man Went Thataway

ne recent sunny morning, in the student center overlooking Washington Square Park, four New York University graduate students wearing brightly colored sheets and sneakers and carrying cellphones gathered for a mission.

Somewhere out there on the streets of Greenwich Village, a fellow student was running around in a yellow Pac-Man suit. His four pursuers, code-named Inky, Blinky, Pinky and Clyde, aimed to track him down and snuff him out — the sooner, the better.

"Our strategy is a dragnet to block all the roads Pac-Man might go down," said Michael Olson, a k a Clyde the ghost. "You take that street," he said to Pinky, as he pointed to a map of the Village. "And I'll take this one."

So began a test run for a game of Pac-Manhattan, a real-world version of the 1980's video game played on the streets of New York and the latest example of a so-called "big game": a contest that uses wireless devices like cellphones and global positioning beacons to track players as they move through the urban grid, turning cities into vast game boards. Big games, with some players online and others pounding the pavement, have been staged in the last year in Minneapolis, Las Vegas and London.

Words truly fail me.

Important Link

Get some CULTURE, you WEENIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hedwig and the Angry Inch

David Gill, star of the Beautiful Creatures production of Hedwig and the Angry Inch, displayed his rather broad shoulders in the preview performance of the show at Fitzgerald's Thursday night and it almost seemed as if he would carry the entire show on them. He was the brightest spot in this incarnation of John Cameron Mitchell's 1998 rock musical that desperately needs more from everyone else involved - and in most cases, it appears that this is simply not possible.

For the purposes of full disclosure, I should mention that I was originally slated to be in the band for this show and pulled out for reasons of time and commitment. I offered my services to the director and producer in an advisory capacity and I dearly wish they'd taken me up on it. Do I know Hedwig better than they do? No, I do not. But there are weaknesses in this show that are so glaringly obvious that I am stunned they have not taken the more drastic measures necessary to correct them. I don't know whether to assume that they are unaware of these cracks or are willfully ignoring them just to get this show off the ground. In either case, my offer still stands.

The band needs work all the way around. Having been privy at rehearsals to the talent on board, I knew that getting them up to speed was going to be a Herculean task. It didn't get there. I figured it would be a struggle even just to learn a few of the songs, but at least attempts were made on the whole set. The drummer, Tiny Flowers, did in fact improve noticeably from the first practice, but he is still not up to the job. No musical will succeed when the timing on nearly every song is so shaky it's like Michael J. Fox after a double espresso. Intros and exits from songs are very unstable and these points should be established more clearly even if it means creating minute gaps in the dialog.

Louis Weyrich gamely attempts to reproduce the score literally and should have taken more latitude in giving the songs his own voice. He has not perfected his playing to the point that one can relax with the song in his hands. He is hampered already by a serious lack of rhythm on the keyboards and having an unsettled drummer doesn't help. Granted, it�s the first performance, but one should be able to play the intro to "Wicked Little Town" without that much trouble. I sat down at mom's about two weeks ago and played it to better effect having never even tried it before on the piano. (That may sound self-flattering, but I leave open an offer to play it for anyone who asks and will be satisfied to let him or her judge for themselves.) Sadly, this means that the loveliest song in the entire score is DOA. The same goes for "Wig in a Box," the defining song of this show. This beautiful melody was strangled, suffocated and left for dead right there on stage. Very sad indeed.

Jenny Schlein has a fantastic look for this show and presents herself confidently in the numbers where... well, the numbers where she actually knows what she's doing. Her posture is exactly indicative of her level of confidence. She's out there front and center rockin on "Tear Me Down" and "Angry Inch," but she recedes to the wings especially during "Wig in a Box". Too many times in this show, she drops out completely and the song is left with no foundation whatsoever. As a bassist in my previous life, I know enough to at least play the foundation if you can't add any flourish, but it appears that she just did not learn entire parts of songs. This really hurt the softer numbers. (Please let me walk her through "Wig in a Box"... PLEASE!)

The guitarist, Eric Allen, seems to have followed Louis' lead in trying to play exactly as the score dictates. If he had succeeded, I'd have applauded him generously. There weren't any definable screw-ups on his part, but his guitar fell sharply out of tune by the end of "Origin of Love" and that made for yet another weak outro. He did handle the harder parts well and looks like the kinda guy who's more comfortable with power chords than delicate arpeggios.

The only time I enjoyed the music was during "Sugar Daddy" and "Angry Inch" - the two simplest songs. I think what hurts this show most is the inherent proportion of ability to success: the more difficult, the more delicate, the more complicated the song, the worse it sounded.

The venue for this show is adequate for the purpose of the atmospheric dimension and it appears that Fitz's has made some accommodations to stage it. It looks as though this set could double for a staging of Pink Floyd's The Wall, replete with lazy-boy chair and a half-wall in front of the stage that could have been built up to the ceiling with bricks.

Dave's costume and wigs were well put together and his make-up was good, but somewhat washed out by the yellowish lighting. Still, kudos to Mina Devantier and Maddy Schafer respectively.

The lighting for this show was quite simply boring. No thought seems to have been put into creating dynamic changes in mood from one moment to the next and so the show has a somewhat flat sensibility. There are certainly opportunities to focus the audience's attention at critical points in the show, but no effort appears to have been made to do so. How about a narrow spot and no stage lights at all for "Wicked Little Town" or "Exquisite Corpse"? How about giving Dave some light during "Wicked Little Town Reprise"? He was on stage, and one senses it was important for him to be there, so then let us see him. I expect the spotlight direction and timing will improve after this first show.

The part of Tommy Gnosis was restricted to a handful of pre-recorded TV shots, all of which were filmed very well and with some pizzazz. In fact, those shots are probably the most professional part of the entire show. Clearly the camera was in the hands of an old pro. Jef Rouner acquits himself capably in a role that asks only minutes of him. As with the spotlight handling, I expect Dave's timing turning the TV off and on to improve as the shows go on.

Lynda Self as Yitzhak impressed me with her ability to seem very guy-like before the show began, trudging around as she rearranged the stage set-up. Sadly, it fell apart in the show itself. She lapsed back into feminine mode too quickly and may not be able to overcome her physicality - which I've admittedly admired over the years. In most comic scenes with Hedwig, she tends to be the Harvey Korman of the two. She'll need to work on bringing some seriousness to the part. There are also a number of songs that are simply out of her range. She handled a couple of them well, but it is essential that she not be allowed to sing anything a cappella. When she sticks to backing vocals on stuff within her capacity, her voice is sweet and cooing.

And then we come to Dave. He nearly pulls it off, overcoming the tremendous obstacles in music performance and stage production. He has the voice, but had to struggle to keep certain songs on track due to the band's instability - "Exquisite Corpse" and "Wicked Little Town" especially. He has splashed a few current event and local references, but I fear that actually puts the show in too mundane a context. Just my opinion, but the show should not come quite so close to reality given its premise. He never struggled with a line but he seemed a little too prancy during the first number (perhaps nervousness). The other physical problem with the show is that the humor - especially between Yitzhak and Hedwig - is telegraphed to the audience with such obviousness that it's like there are big arrows on stage saying, "LAUGH HERE." Dave was much better at delivering offhanded comic lines when he had entire control of the tempo.

Anyone who has seen Dave do Reverend Jim from Taxi, or Prince, or Mick Jagger knows that he is an accomplished mimic. This both helps and hurts him in the show. He nails the accent and gets the characterization right for Hedwig, and he does Hedwig's mother with the proper bemused detachment. But his impersonations of Luther Robinson and Tommy Gnosis are so deftly delivered that you start to understand his performance of Hedwig as merely one mask of many. He brings the other characters to life from beyond Hedwig's perspective. He should be doing Hedwig doing Tommy, not Dave Gill doing Tommy. It's like watching Sybil as performed by Robin Williams.

I realize that I watched the first public performance of this show and that improvements are likely as the show goes on. Unfortunately, the things that need the most improvement are the things of which I'm not sure the current crew is capable. The band may get a little tighter, but they will not appreciably improve as musicians and thus the show will only go so far. Damn shame, as that is one hell of a score.

Tickets are $20 Friday and Saturdays, $16 Sundays. Personally, I think that's steep for a show of this limited caliber. I might pay $10 to see Dave Gill perform again, but I'd save the other $10 for a copy of the cast album, which I have been listening to every day at work for the last two months.

A Smattering of Movie Updates

Oh Holy Crap ...

What stupid celebrity are you destined to kill? by daydreamer8852
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No Moore?

Disney Blocks Michael Moore's Latest Release

Certainly, this is why Miramax was purchased in the first place: to give an outlet for projects Disney thought too "adult" or too "risky" for their corporate banner. However, in the 11 years since Miramax was bought by Disney, this is the second reported time that Disney has told Miramax not to release a movie. The other time was the very controversial "Dogma", which brought protest from the Catholic church. Fortunately that film was released by Lion's Gate Films with marketing done by Miramax. One can only hope that Disney allows a similar deal to be struck over this film, because after winning an Academy Award for his last movie (and the subsequent comments made in his speech), Michael Moore is a name that people will now recognize. Love him or hate him, agree with him or disagree with him, his movies are now more marketable.

Three Things I Need ...

... to make my life complete:

Why Haven't We Scheduled...

The Adventures Of Ford Fairlane
Band Of The Hand
The Rutles (All You Need Is Cash)
Spinal Tap (comeback/return/whatever)
The Loved One (out of print)

Loretta Lynn Gets Updated?

Then:
Tonight on Leno ... Loretta Lynn with Jack White. That is well worth staying up for. As much as I'd love to see White's take on a Lynn classic, they'll be doing a new tune: "Portland, Oregon."

Now:
Jack White, you evil twit!!!! I hereby reclaim that portion of respect accorded you for your non-rock work as of late. After catching last night's travesty, I can only hope that the one song done was the exception, rather than the rule for that album.

First things first ... let's review the concept of rock music. Vocals are generally an extension of the music in this genre. Sure, there are pop tunes where great vocalists dominate with the strength of their voice. And there's even the heavier stuff where singers still like to shine through a bit. But the likes of Jim Morrison, Mick Jagger, David Lee Roth, Vince Neil, and Bret Michaels did not make their claim to fame on the basis of their singing. Anyone who's heard Bryan Adams butcher "Oh, Canada" as I have would realize this in a heartbeat. The voice, in most rock forms, is yet another instrument. Granted, its one that gives better expression to the lusting for fast cars, cheap booze, easy drugs, and women that fall into all three classifications. But David Lee Roth's voice, circa 1980, was more an extension of Eddie Van Halens' wailing guitar than a peircing vocal master demonstrating his chops.

Cut to country. Whether in the glory days or the more modern era of country, vocalists are there to shine on their own merits. Name one guitar player who isn't the lead singer in a country band ... or a drummer ... or a bassist. Chances are, most people posed with that question will come up blank (diehard fans of the genre aside, perhaps). Loretta Lynn's voice is as distinct as there is. And yet on Letterman, I'm presented with Jack White's wailing rock band drowning out that very precious quality that has made Lynn the star that she is. It was a hideous display to take in. I literally wanted to physically harm Jack White. In any event, he owes music, in general, an apology.

The King Returns ...

Van Halen Hits Houston on 9/23!!!!!!

Tix on sale Saturday. Yikes, and I forgot to set aside a small fortune!

UPDATE: Joe Satriani hits The Woodlands on his Summer tour 8/28. Also on the bill will be Thin Lizzy (with ex-TL member John Sykes on guitar - worth the price of admission alone), and Deep Purple (still touring with Steve Morse on guitar. This band was better when the guitar player was Joe Satriani - and I like Steve Morse!)

MORE MUSIC NEWS:

Noodles Rule? Yes, Yes They Do...

As a start to a bachelor's evening out, one of the common stops is to fuel up for the night ahead. However, you often don't want to be stuck in a dimly lit restaurant with the guys surrounded by couples who are making goo-goo eyes at each other over the requisite tabletop candle. You typically also want to avoid most fast food restaurants, as you will commonly find yourself surrounded by a dozen or so members of a local little league team. To that you must add price constraints, and you have what would seem like a narrow selection of restaurants. Prior to a movie at the Angelika, Thrillhouse and I were debating the usual trip to Hard Rock Cafe, as it is so close. When I balked, he suggested an alternative I hadn't heard of: Jenni's Noodle House. I'm glad I threw caution to the wind and tried this hidden gem.

The description I was initially given of this place was "a gay noodle house". Being the open-minded person that I am, I couldn't care less who the clientele is and was just looking for some tasty food. After a briefing of their menu on their very informative website, I walked into the restaurant prepared for a good culinary experience, with perhaps an interesting atmosphere. What I got in the dinner department was no disappointment.

The first thing tried were the fried Chicken Disco Dumplings. These were served with a jalapeno-ginger soy sauce which put out just enough heat and saltiness to mesh with the crispy dumpling and tender filling. When it came time to order the entree, I opted for one of the $6 deals, the Vermilicelli Salad w/ Grilled Chicken, in contrast to my buddy's choice of a high dollar $9 entree, Ginger Chicken. Now, I'm not one to go sharing food with most people, so I opted not to suggest a taste test of his Ginger Chicken. I also ordered a side of Dream Rolls. The Salad was done well, although I could have used more peanuts on the salad. Instead of eating it with the fish sauce, I opted for more jalapeno-ginger soy, and it meshed well. The fresh vegetables on the salad were nice and crisp, showing that the salad had been prepared just moments before. The chicken, while it was what was advertised, was a little on the mild side for me. A little hot sauce cleared that problem up posthaste. The Dream Rolls were, in my opinion, the highlight of the meal. The delicate combination of the tofu, mushrooms, mint and noodles wrapped in rice paper was a refreshing change from the standard deep-fried eggrolls you typically see in Asian restaurants. I especially liked them as-is, without any soy or hot sauce. To wrap up our meal, we decided to split an order of steamed beef disco dumplings. Our waiter suggested eating these with the hot sauce, as it provided the right kick for the heavier beef. I have to say I disagreed with his assessment. The dumplings were pleasantly seasoned as-is.

Sadly, the atmosphere of the place was rather subdued for Friday, dubbed Boa Night. I imagine this had to do with the somewhat early hour we chose more than the staff and customers. As we were leaving the restaurant, there were several carloads of college students arriving to get their Friday night fix of Jenni's Noodles. I imagine that the party started shortly after we left, and look forward to returning for the festivities in the near future.

Three More Takes On The Darkness

Justin Time

Interesting little Q&A on the lead singer here. Among the tidbits we learn: not into groupies and not into trashing backstages. In short, not yer everyday 70s rock star. Paints a bit of a different picture that seems to suggest that these "kids" have enough of their heads screwed on to stick around for a while on the rock scene. Oh, and apparently Justin's weiner is peirced.

Darkness walk out of US show

The band walks out on the Loveline set during a call with a listener who admits to being sexually abused. Not the best gig for a band reknowned for not taking itself seriously. I mean the worst thing about those 80s rock stars was when they all got preachy (much like the sitcoms of that same era). I mean when Aerosmith got back together and told me it wasn't cool to drink anymore, I was one pissed off little 17 year old.

Pomp Friction

Ya know, I caught this show and thought something odd about it. I mean moreso than the fact that Quentin Tarantino was producing the show and they had a bunch of blood & guts gags to run throughout the show. First sign was the interview that the band did in the middle of the show. The band looked a bit exhausted, as if they had played before they taped the interview. Justin Hawkins did most of the talking and really didn't seem all that gung-ho ... mind you, this was the freakin' Jimmy Kimmel show - how the hell can anyone be gung-ho about that? The one song the band did was a so-so performance that seems to match Uber's recollection of the Tonight Show performance earlier. What to chalk that up to, one can speculate - the band had ended a leg of a US tour, wrapping up in LA that week, having cancelled a few shows late in the tour for Hawkins' laryngitis. Hawkins was set to go under the knife as soon as they were done with all the promo work, also. So there's extenuating circumstances to account for that. But the fact that Tarantino made the difference between getting an extra song played or not just makes me all the more justified in not really being a fan of the guy.

Sidenotes:

Movie Review: The Mayor of Sunset Strip

Having had time to digest this movie a bit, it still confounds me a little. Strike those previous reviews elsewhere that praise this flick as the best rock & roll movie ever. Its not. But its still well worth taking in. Yet, instead of viewing it as a film about rock & roll, view it as a study on the meaning of fame and how we react and respond to it. Rodney Bingenheimer's story starts off with his father and stepmother being interviewed. Dad was a one-time aspiring actor in the LA area who loved to take in Bing Crosby's Celebrity Golf Tournament. We learn that it was a great way for people to see celebrities, get their pictures taken with them, and otherwise hobnob with them. When the interviewer asks about the appeal to rubbing elbows with celebrities, dad searches longingly for an answer, only to come up with "I dunno. Its just natural, I guess."

Rodney's story enters as he runs the local "English Disco" concert/dance hall. Having had a good enough run of it during the early/mid 70s, Rodney moves on to become a DJ at LA's KROQ, where he's been stationed ever since. Rodney's claim to fame is to have been the one to bring the likes of Bowie, The Ramones, Blondie, The Sex Pistols, The Clash, and others to the LA radio scene. As a groundbreaker of sorts as well as a longtime institution, he's given wide lattitude among various rock stars for interviews, personal favors, and whatever Rodney asks for, it seems. The catch is that Rodney is not your prototypical DJ. He's as unassuming and unpretentious of a personality as you could hope to find. The common theme among many interviewees is that Rodney is in this for sheer love of the music. And there's certainly a lot to back that up.

Yet he's also credited with having more women than the rock stars themselves by none other than David Bowie. Its as if being proximate to celebrity is enough to gain the fruits of celebrity's success. There's a fair amount in the movie to explore what it is that Rodney acutally does to warrant any celebrity status for himself: his show now airs once a week in the unenviable midnight-to-two slot on Sunday nights. Fellow DJs give seemingly slanderous knocks that Rodney is something of a relic nowadays: bantering about Sonny & Cher (seriously) in an age of Korn & Slipknot. There's even a take that KROQ is afraid to fire him, be it for his celebrity status or merely "losing its soul."

And yet, for all this supposed love of music that seems to drive Rodney, we get an interesting juxtaposition of the reality when his protoge leaves to start a competing show at another station. To call Chris Carter a protoge, though, is an understatement. Carter was in the band Dramarama, one of the very bands that Rodney broke. After the bands 15 minutes of fame, Carter goes to work with Rodney in the studio, where he's presumably been for a number of years. Carter is even interviewed stating that he pretty much owes his entire professional music career to Rodney. Yet after the movie shows him going to work at another station doing a new music show, we cut to Rodney and Chris in a very tense moment backstage. Its not obvious that the argument is about the move or something else, but the movie's editing leaves it presumed that the two are not on the best of terms for whatever reason. So much for sheer love of music on Rodney's part? Are we not left then to believe that perhaps what Rodney was addicted to mostly was the secondhand fame that was uniquely his?

To be sure, Rodney is a complex character. In the beginning of the movie, he's asked if he wishes his life turned out any differently. Rodney affirms that he likely wishes it did turn out differently, but we never get an answer as to how he wishes it turned out. For all the fame accrued to Rodney, the viewer sees very little material benefit that its gotten him: he drives a Nova that he has to crack the hood for a quick repair to get the car starting again. He's shown rummaging through his living quarters, with rock memorabilia and record albums cluttering what is obviously not going to be shown on the Lifestyles of the Rich & Famous.

As a study on Rondey Bingenheimer himself, the movie is incomplete, as it leaves a lot unanswered and a host of begged questions left on the movie theater floor. But as a study on what fame means to Rodney, and what it might mean to us - individually or collectively - its a well done film. When you think of the pinnacle of fame-for-fame's-sake, one name comes to mind: Kato Kalen. Sure enough, in the film, there are about 4-5 references to Kato that seem to jolt our minds that perhaps that's all that truly drives Rodney, and perhaps our own fascination with celebrity. Do we merely just want the 15 minutes of fame, or is there something that we'd prefer it to be associated with specifically? The movie doesn't come away with any clearcut answers, but it explores the question as well as can be done through the microscope of one person's life.

A movie, a life, an identity

Just saw the movie "FIGHT CLUB" with Edward Norton and Brad Pitt. This hits one of the checkboxes on my "need to see these" list, originally since I was curious as to what everyone else was talking about. I found it rude, vulgar, violent and generally distasteful in many ways. However, it is also a very instructive movie with respect to statements about personal identity and the limited time left to us all.

The main positive point that I took from FIGHT CLUB was the trick played by Pitt's character on the convenience store clerk. He takes Norton's character with him to the store on the corner, walks in, produces a large pistol and drags the clerk out into the street, tells him to kneel down on the pavement with his hands on his head, then pulls back the hammer on the Army model 1911 .45 caliber auto. Pitt then removes the clerk's wallet and takes account of the man's life, quickly asessing that (indicated by an expired library card from a local community college) the man is working in the store as a result of having dropped out. Pitt tells the clerk that he will give back the wallet and let him go, but will keep the drivers' license. If Pitt looks the clerk up in some number of weeks with the address and DL info only to find that the clerk has not made major progress in his life (such as lobbying for readmission), he will kill the clerk. Pitt questions that college could have been so bad for this clerk, compared to horrible things that can be seen happening to others simply by reading the newspaper. He should face himself, apply himself and get out of his rut before his time is up - with the time being called by Pitt's gun, father time, an unseen speeding truck while crossing the street... it won't matter. What matters is what one is able to do with oneself before one is gone.

Not a family film. And I'm usually a kind of 'Spencer Tracy movie' sort of guy. But if you need a shock at some point in your life, maybe this is it. Additional analysis: the movie uses the IKEA stores as bad examples of consumerism; I have nothing against having clean, organized living spaces. But if anticonsumerism has any positive statement to make (and is not merely a corrupt statement of envy), it is to say that if one pursues material posessions in order to bolster one's identity in the eyes of others, one must reorder one's priorities, and fast. It's the other way around. One's goals, identity and outlook DETERMINE the content of the rooms of one's life - not the reverse. Novelist Ayn Rand put it another way when she described a character's apartment as having a luxury of selection, rather than another character's rooms, which only posessed a luxury of accumulation. Both Rand's and Pitt's characters (in different senses) make the same point:

One's life is the aggregate of one's selections. You're responsible: get your inauthentic self together, pare down the goals, and start knocking some off before it's too late.