God bless the Interwebs.
I discovered this week that on Hulu.com you can watch the Studio 60 “Christmas Show” episode from 2006. For my money, this was one of the best holiday-themed episodes of any show of all time — and definitely one of the finest hours of this short-lived TV series. Continue reading
Lost comes back in a month and a half (on January 21). To tide my fellow fans over, here’s a two-minute clip from the season premiere. Uh oh. Looks like Kate’s in trouble.
Neil Patrick Harris, Jack Black, John C. Reilly, and others sing about Prop 8. Good stuff. Enjoy!
http://player.ordienetworks.com/flash/fodplayer.swf
Cadillac Records tells the story of the influential Chess Records label, founded by Leonard Chess (Adrien Brody) in Chicago in the 1950s, and home to such legendary artists as Muddy Waters (Jeffrey Wright), Little Walter (Columbus Short), and Etta James (Beyoncé Knowles).
The film includes all the essentials of the musical biopic, including sex, drugs, and a sketchy manager-type — the title comes from Chess’ habit of paying off his successful artists with Cadillacs, instead of giving them the money they’re rightfully earned.
But it also includes one other very important element: great music. Continue reading
I love this video and this site, and totally agree: The Dark Knight has been the best movie to be released so far this year. This well-made clip certainly backs up that claim. And on a related note, this is bull crap. And on another related note, the movie comes out on DVD this coming Tuesday. I can’t wait to watch it again.
Alright, I get it. It’s called public transportation for a reason. I have to share the subway with other people, I have to be tolerant of their annoying behavior, and I have to be considerate and flexible even when other people aren’t. But it’s now a day and a half after my morning commute yesterday and I’m still annoyed.
It was Monday morning, the day after Thanksgiving weekend. No one wanted to go back to work. I sat on the T, in my regular seat, peacefully reading my magazine, minding my own business. The rest of the train, though it was crowded, was pretty quiet (all things considered). Then, at Warren St., some kids (two guys and three girls) got on and began to talk like the train was half-full. In obnoxious, profanity-laced dialogue spoken in a heavy accent that screamed “townie,” they discussed drug use and all the things they’d tried and wouldn’t ever try, how a “chick” can have sex with an older “dude” but a dude can’t have sex with an older chick because that’d be illegal, and other similar topics. Again, none of this in anything close to a “soft” or moderate volume. Plus, they were standing near the door, and not even moving when people would need to get off. Somewhere around Kenmore, someone broke wind and they spent five minutes talking — out loud, and in pretty gross fashion — about how bad it smelled and who among them was the one who did it. One kid even started to make farting noises and motions (i.e.: lifting up his leg). This was all going on right in front of me. And I was still sitting there, trying unsuccessfully to read my magazine. Counting the stops until I got to Park Street. Of course, they were on the train with me the entire way there.
I’m tempted to say these kids were lower-class, but that would mean they’d have to have some class, and clearly, they kids had none. And I know their ages because they each went around saying how old they were, and the oldest was 17. So I mentally threw up my hands, and in my best “Damn, do I feel old” inner voice asked, What’s wrong with these kids today? Don’t any of them have any respect or consideration for others around them? (And I know I’m not the only one who has had that reaction; Alicia wrote something simiar on Friday.) So yeah. Most days I like my commute on the T. But yesterday … I couldn’t get to work fast enough.
There are a lot of children who will go to see Shrek the Musical and will love it. And then there are a lot of adults who will go — with or, in my case, without children — and will wonder why this is a Broadway show at all and not an attraction at Universal Studios. Because while Shrek the Musical is a colorful, cute, and mostly enjoyable show, it doesn’t belong on Broadway. With top tickets costing more than $100, you half expect to get some rides with your admission.
This theatrical adaptation of the Oscar-winning animated film (which officially opens on December 14) tells the same basic story as the film: Shrek the ogre just wants to be loved. But it tries to deepen that plot by adding a heavy-handed message about tolerance and acceptance. Now, for example, not only are all the varied fairy tale characters like the Three Little Pigs and Pinocchio outcasts and comic relief, but they also have identity issues — here celebrated in a song called “Freak Flag,” which calls for tolerance. This can be funny, until you start to hurt from being hit over the head so many times with the same themes. I mean, Milk has a similar message, but it’s communicated in that film in a much more subtle and graceful style.
On the good side, the songs here are more tuneful and memorable than those in, say, Young Frankenstein, and the sets and costumes are colorful, fun, and totally appropriate given the source material. Daniel Breaker, who plays Donkey, has a great singing voice and I enjoyed his songs — even if he makes the character more effeminate than Eddie Murphy’s version was (are you picking up a trend yet?). Christopher Siebert plays the diminutive Lord Farquaad mostly by standing on his knees, a gag that generally works pretty effectively. As a result, Farquaad’s scenes are some of the funniest ones in the show. I also enjoyed some of the in-jokes about shows like The Lion King and Wicked.
But yeah, despite the attempts to broaden the story, Shrek the Musical is nothing more than an adaptation of an animated film. And unlike The Lion King, it doesn’t try to be more that that. As a result, the show too often strands some very good actors — like Brian d’Arcy James, who plays Shrek, and Sutton Foster, who plays Princess Fiona — with nothing more to do than make some pandering farting and burping jokes, or mimic the well-known film actors’ performances. James even maintains Mike Myers’ Scottish brogue, though not always successfully. After this and Young Frankenstein, I really hope Foster will choose a next role that’s less cartoony and that will be more worthy of her talents, like Thoroughly Modern Millie was. She deserves better, as do most of the other actors here.
Admittedly, when I decided to see Shrek, I wasn’t really anticipating an instant classic show. (Why did I see it, then? Curiosity, I guess, and because I’d included it in a recent article.) On some level, when you see a show on Broadway you hope for something with a little artistic ambition. This one just doesn’t have enough. Which is not to say I didn’t enjoy Shrek the Musical. It’s just that I wouldn’t really call it worth seeing unless you’re a child.
It’s one thing to go to a restaurant because the food is good. It’s another to go because you like the ambience. But that’s how I feel about the Cheesecake Factory, which every year plays the single best holiday music of any store or restaurant I patronize. It’s like they somehow got a copy of my Very Marty Christmas mixes and put them all on shuffle. No kidding. They play Donny Hathaway’s “This Christmas,” Stevie Wonder’s big tunes … all the classics, plus some not as good but still enjoyable ones like Kelly Clarkson’s “My Grown-Up Christmas List.” And this year, to up the ante, they even have a holiday-themed cheesecake with peppermint candies. No, I didn’t have that when I went to the Factory Saturday night, but I almost did. I may just have to go back to try it. But anyway, that’s another endorsement from me: The Cheesecake Factory at holiday time.
Todd and I were talking yesterday while wandering around New York City and I commented to him matter-of-factly that I was having such a good time that I could see myself being very happy living here. He said it was just because the weather was so nice, and because New York is a fun city to visit. I called it temporary insanity. After all, I know full well that I have absolutely no desire to live in Manhattan. Hell, I don’t even like New York City. But that doesn’t change the fact that I had those thoughts again after another day of playing tourist.
I was in the city to see Todd — in from Los Angeles with his wife and child, Naomi, who is already a year old — and we did a typical tourist thing on the day after Thanksgiving: wander around Fifth Avenue looking at the various store windows at Saks, Bloomingdales, and Bergdorf Goodman. (Oh, and it should be noted, we did all this with Kerri.) Then we went to 30 Rock to see the tree (unlit until Wednesday). And I’ve gotta say, the combination of perfect weather and being amongst people full of holiday cheer (not just Todd and co., but the entire city, it seemed) was really fun.
When we separated, I was having such a good time that I made the decision to stay in the city and try to see a show. After an hour-long wait at the new TKTS booth, I had tickets for (of all things) Shrek the Musical. (I know, I know. But I had included it in a recent article for Continental and I was curious.) I’ll write more about the show a little later, but I’ll say I am enjoying this annual tradition of getting spur-of-the-moment theater tickets (last year I saw Spring Awakening). For laughs and, well, because I had to go, I returned to Charmin’s free public restroom, browsed the Virgin Megastore for a while, then fully embraced my inner tourist by grabbing a quick dinner at Planet Hollywood (mmmmm … Chicken Crunch). Suffice it to say, it was a cheesy couple hours, but I enjoyed myself.
Yeah, Todd was right: In small doses, New York can be a lot of fun. But small doses is key. I’m not moving anytime soon.
At what point do you remove someone from your cell phone?
I asked myself that question again this morning as I thought about my Bubby.
Today is the two-year anniversary of her death, and I still find myself wanting to call her every now and then as if she’s still with us and might actually answer the phone. Of course, I know that’s not true (heck, I know there’s not even an answering machine hooked up to her phone anymore), but it’s just what happens when I scroll through my cell phone and see her there. I’m in no rush to “erase” her, or delete her name from my numbers, so I think I’ll keep Bubby on my phone for a while more. Continue reading
Martin's Musings 