Hutch's Vision of the Newsies on Broadway

The Newsies always has been and will always be my favorite movie of all time. It is my rainy day movie, my bad day movie, my celebratory movie, my any and all occasions movie. It is what made me fall in love with Christian Bale before he became Christian Bale (read: talented but crazy). I love the pelvic thrusts, the bad New York accents, the rousing chorale numbers, (and the moment where one of the Brooklyn newsies climbs out of the river and you can totally see his you-know-what.) My friends and I have even made up a Newsies drinking game, though we have yet to actually play it.

Pre-rage Christian was so saxy

I am not alone in my obsession with this 1992 failed Disney musical. There are dozens of us out there who belt along in our living rooms to Santa Fe whilst wearing a cowboy hat, who have tried to jump over our own right leg, who have wondered if the newsie who spins on the ceiling fan puked afterwards. We have been teased with a stage version of our favorite movie for almost two decades now, but it always seemed like a distant dream. Like the flying car or chocolate that doesn't make you fat. Finally, a few years ago, I learned that a project was in the works to bring the joy of the Newsies to a whole new generation of snobby theater geeks. I thought, yeah yeah, I'll believe it when I see it. But it seems like it's finally going to be a reality, according to this article.

While I am glad that it's finally happening, (even though I'd have to go to friggin' New Jersey to see it), I have a few bones to pick with the adaptation. First of all, why are they getting rid of the cowboy element? I don't like cowboys myself, but that was Jack's whole dream! He wore that stupid hat proudly. Cowboy was his nickname, and the driving force behind Santa Fe (arguably the best song in the whole damn thing). It was where he claimed his mom and dad were, instead of dead and in jail respectively. Not cool, guys. Also, I happened to like "High Times, Hard Times" even if it did win a Razzie. It was classic Vaudeville which was a big part of newsie culture. Plus, they're getting rid of Medda! Granted she was kind of useless, but she did add some much needed female presence in a borderline sausage-fest. And what's with getting rid of Denton? I loves me some Bill Pullman.

"To our man Denton!"

I think the biggest reason I'm bitter is because when I was a Freshman in high school, I was planning my own version. It would be true to the heart of the story, but with a few improvements:

Unrequited love

1. Brooklyn Newsie Kingpin Spot Conlon would be a girl. Sure Spot is a badass, especially with his wicked cane and slingshot acumen. But think how much more badass Spot would be if he was a girl! Plus, I had imagined a whole secondary love plotline with girl-Spot and Dave The Walkin' Mouth (because he kind of comes off as a little bit hopelessly in love with Jack.) I also wanted a musical number with just the Brooklyn Newsies, but it seems like the new musical felt the same way.

I do not take credit for this sweet Spot collage. But isn't he just a pimp?

2. Speaking of female love interests, David's sister/Jack's lady friend Sarah would have a much bigger part. There would be an awesome duet with Jack and Sarah while they're on the rooftop. Plus, when the Delancey bruddahs try something with Sarah, she would kick their asses instead of stupidly bruising her hand on the wall and needing Jack to come save her. Also, their kiss at the end would be stellar instead of the worst screen kiss ever (seriously, when Jack snorts a bunch of snot up his nose right before slobbering all over Sarah, I just want to puke).

Oh Ele Keats. You're just useless.

3. I always had this theory that Racetrack was secretly either Medda's son or her boy toy (not both). Mostly because in the riot scene when Racetrack gets punched, Medda freaks out and screams "RACETRACK!!!!" So either she's a fake Swedish Mrs. Robinson and Racetrack is a pimp with a taste for older ladies, or Medda gave Racetrack up for adoption to pursue her Vaudeville career and this was her way of keeping tabs on him. Whichever one I decided to go with, that subplot would be fleshed out.

Medda, the fake Swedish Mrs. Robinson

4. I'd also like to see Pulitzer sing some great Disney villain song like "Poor Unfortunate Souls" or "Be Prepared." I think he could pull it off. But I understand that in the movie Robert Duvall wasn't up for belting showtunes or tripping the light fantastic.

I may look intense, but inside I'm singing Gypsy

5. I wouldn't be surprised if Kid Blink and Mush had their own thing going on behind the scenes, but it might be pushing the limits of Disney to have underage boys hooking up on stage.

You can feel the sexual tension between these two.

6. Refuge Warden Snyder seems like an even more evil character than he is portrayed in the movie. I see him as a physically abusive pedophile rather than just a mean embezzler. (The pedophile aspect would just be faintly hinted at since if we can't have a gay love story, we definitely can't have child molestation.) Making the Refuge even more of a scary, terrible place would create a greater sense of relief when Snyder is thrown in jail at the end and all the kids are freed. Or maybe my mind is just dark and twisted after watching too much Law and Order: SVU.

One creepy-ass mother. I honestly wouldn't be surprised.

He did go on to steal John Locke's kidney after all.

I'm sure I have more notes on my Newsies dream musical, but for now that's all I can remember. So, anyone want to go to Jersey with me to see how the real thing turns out???

UPDATE: Watching the Newsies now. I'd definitely axe the ridiculous cowboy solo dance that Jack does in the middle of Santa Fe, almost ruining it. I'd also have more of a rebellion in the Refuge before Snyder gets thrown in the pokey.

Why I Keep Watching Felicity (Even Though I Kind of Hate It)

'Obsession' seems like the wrong word to describe this latest Netflix kick I've been on. 'Obsession' implies some sort of affection for its object. I guess 'rut' would be more accurate in the case of my recent on-going marathon of the late 90s post-adolescent drama Felicity. It's on and I don't feel like searching for something else. Am I really so lazy that I'm not even up to the idea of searching for a new, better show to watch unhealthy amounts of? The answer to that is yes. Yes I am. But there are other reasons I kind of secretly dig this horrible show:

Pictured: Playdough Man

1. Scott Speedman, or Ben Covington. Not to be confused with Scott Foley (Noel. What kind of a stupid late 90s name is Noel? Besides, he's just like a lumpy blob of playdough. Not off-putting, but by no means enticing.) Ben is also kind of a bland character (as are the rest of them), and he's not traditionally attractive. But he's got this crinkly-eyed smile that is pretty goddamn dreamy. I can almost understand why Felicity was such a stupid, girly, stalker, moron and gave up her entire life plan to follow him across the country.

Ok, I kind of get it. But still, have some self-respect, Felicity! Dammit.

2. Every week is an ugly sweater party. Seriously. Homegirl has a major bulky woolen cable-knit fetish. I find it hard to believe that a girl who resembles a sheep for most of her screen time gets so much play.

Standard Felicity Wardrobe.

Stacy and Clinton would have a field day in this girl's closet.

3. A little part of me wishes I could go back and do college over again. This gives me a bit of nostalgia for the college experience I never had.

4. An even smaller part of me wishes I lived in New York. Which is silly, because the majority of my personalities despise New York. It's cold in the winter, humid in the summer, smelly, dirty, dangerous, overcrowded, overpriced, and everyone is nuts and really arrogant about the fact that they live in New York. BFD. But I still found myself idly looking at apartments for rent in the Manhattan area. (And I thought my apartment complex I work for was expensive! Jesus!)

What a stupid, wannabe moody opening sequence. What is the theme song even saying? Is it just gibberish? And what's with the black and white still photographs of the characters looking like they're in pain while trying to look thoughtful and/or like they are having fun?

5. It's weird seeing actors who are now famous in bit parts. So far I've spotted Jennifer Garner (Pre-Alias. Which I have never seen, but have heard good things. Maybe I'll try that and give JJ Abrams a second chance at writing a believable, non-infuriating female protagonist), John Cho, and one of the guys in American Pie. I've also seen Christopher Sarandon (better known as Prince Humperdinck in The Princess Bride. Though I suppose that would be after he was famous...).

Have some self-respect, Humperdinck.

Frankly, this is beneath even you.

6. I genuinely loved Felicity's prime time counterpart, Dawson's Creek. That was the shit. I don't care that the dialogue was completely unrealistic and that all the characters were absurdly self-aware. Why should we fault a show for striving not to be dumbed down, even if the result is somewhat silly? I keep hoping that at some point, Felicity will be one-tenth as good as Dawson's Creek was. Or maybe I'm just killing time until they finally put Dawson's Creek on Netflix. (Get your crap together, Netflix! You owe me this one!)

God this show was good. Don't even try to hate. 'Cause I'll slap you. Through the internet.

7. While I don't love her character (holy hot mess, batman!) I was so excited when I saw that Amy Jo Johnson plays Felicity's best friend, Julie. I was all about the Power Rangers in elementary school and the Pink Ranger was my favorite! (Though I was always relegated to playing the Yellow Ranger at recess because I wasn't as pretty as the other girls.) One of my (only) favorite moments in the show so far (and that's about 13 episodes in) was when an extra dressed up as the Pink Ranger at a Halloween party and Ben makes out with her! Wink wink, nudge nudge! See what they did there?

HI-YAH! Badass.

8. I feel kind of obligated to watch it, since I am attempting to become a dubious expert on all things teen-oriented. Just in case that knowledge ever comes in handy in a future game of Trivial Pursuit with the Grim Reaper and knowing that Felicity's ever-so-slightly offensive gay and vaguely ethnic stereotype boss at Dean and Deluca was named Javier just might save my soul.

But for reals, y'all, this is a terrible show. I do NOT recommend it. Really just a waste of time. But since that's all I'm interested in at the moment, I guess it does the trick. But it does raise my hackles every time Felicity acts like a lovesick puppy with really low self-esteem, Noel gets walked over like a proverbial doormat, and Julie is on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and Ben just doesn't give a shit. Which is basically the entire show in a nutshell.

Now I'm off to bed to watch it some more.

What's the Opposite of an Ode?

Whatever it is, I'd like to write the opposite of an ode to beer. Beer is gross. One whiff and I get bitter beer face so bad I'm literally afraid it will freeze that way and I'll be stuck with a twisted, screwed up mouth and a scrunched up nose and eyebrows for life. Once I tried to take a sip of my friend's brother's super dark ale and nearly threw up in his authentic souvenir German stein. I hate beer. I know everyone says it's an acquired taste, like coffee or wine. But I fail to see the purpose in an acquired taste. Why bother acquiring it if the process is so yucky? Now I understand that some people require coffee just to survive. And though it took me several months of living in France, I finally understand why people like wine (red anyway. White is just a waste of time.)

Blech.

I drank my way through Europe, sampling the best beers that Munich, Prague, and Brussels had to offer. I was determined to acquire that taste so I could be a normal college student. Blech, blech, and more blech (with the exception of Belgian cherry beer. Droooool...) I made it all the way to the Guinness Brewery in Dublin, where I gave beer one last ultimatum: If I didn't like it by Ireland (one of the last stops on my trip), I was giving up for good. And sure enough, after touring the factory (and learning that eggs are the single best cure for a hangover, thanks Guinness!), I went up to their sky bar for my free (well, included in the extravagant ticket price) pint. Dirt. Dirt and poo was all I tasted. So screw you beer! Also, it has a ton of calories (not that I really care about that), and it takes a lot of it to really take an effect (expensive and inefficient).

But last night when me, the Bean, and the Bean's boyfriend went out on the town (and by town I mean the Universal City Walk), we came across a beer garden. And while I loathe the sight, smell, and taste of beer, I love what it symbolizes: hanging out with your friends, relaxing over a pint. And anything consumed outside tastes better for some reason. Plus, it was happy hour. Three fifty a glass? Happy hour indeed! We had some time to kill between getting frozen yogurt (sidebar, I am the queen of Yogurtland), and going to see the Green Hornet (more on that later). So we decided to go for it. I ordered a Belgian Wheat Heffeweizen (I think), simply because the description mentioned something about bananas, vanilla, and cloves, and that it was 7% alcohol (I'm all for more bang for your buck). And you know what? It wasn't terrible. I didn't get bitter beer face. I didn't love it, but I didn't want to regurgitate my digesting froyo either. So, progress. I should also mention I was able to stand Bud Light with the lime juice already in it. It tasted like water and from what I understand, doesn't count as beer.

So yes, I celebrated Martin Luther King, Jr. day with an exercise in tolerance. And while I still don't really like beer, I do like the way it makes you feel. As with wine, for some reason it gives you a happy, warm feeling. You appreciate everyone and everything around you. Not in a sloppy, "I love you, man" kind of way (at least in moderation). But still, it enhances the good times. Unfortunately, it had been a really long time since I'd had any alcohol, and frozen yogurt does not a substantial dinner make. So that 7% kind of hit me harder than expected and by the time we walked to the theater, I was laughing hysterically and awkwardly cha-cha'ing to the crappy world music being performed on the promenade. It was quite a performance, if I do say so myself.

Pretty good poster actually.

And now, on to the somewhat rushed and vague review (I have to finish getting ready for work. I just felt bad that I went so long without blogging.) THE GREEN HORNET!!!! I had been so excited about this project ever since I first heard that Seth Rogen was attached a few years ago. I love him as a writer and I thought he would make an interesting choice as an action hero (since Pineapple Express, like Bud Light with Lime, doesn't quite count). I was also stoked to hear that Michel Gondry was directing. Another unusual choice, and who would have ever paired those two up as a team? Anyway, the whole reason I got scammed by this extra company was that they were advertising for background players for the Green Hornet. Any chance to catch a glimpse of my beloved Seth was worth the exorbitant sign up fee. But that didn't exactly work out and I developed a slight resentment for the Green Hornet (even though it was just a pawn in Actorsonset's nefarious scheme).

Swoon.

When I finally saw the trailer (after the film was pushed back a few months, not boding well for its quality), I was severely disappointed. It looked really stupid, honestly. And not in a good way. Britt Reid's sidekick Kato seemed like such a horrific racial stereotype (which probably wouldn't have bothered me as much if it was genuinely funny). And I just didn't buy Seth Rogen as basically a male Paris Hilton. But after reading The Sassy Curmudgeon's surprisingly good review, I decided to take a chance. I rarely see movies in the theater, so this was a big deal. I trust Una, and Seth has rarely let me down before.

As for the movie itself, I think it helped that I was still a bit tipsy from my Heffeweizen. It took a while to really get going, and only in the last half of it did I really laugh out loud. But homeboy looks startlingly good in a suit, even if I maintain that he looked better 30 pounds heavier. The relationship between Kato and Britt was adorable and complex, even gleefully addressing the unintentional homoerotic subtext a few times. And as much as I love Seth, it was really the Kato show. Britt didn't really do anything except bankroll the operation and be snarky. He was more often the damsel in distress than the hero. Cameron Diaz was just awful, and her character seemed to serve only as conflict between the guys, and as exposition for the plot. And while Christopher Waltz was amazing in Inglorious Basterds, he was a bit wasted in this. He only appeared in a few scenes, and his whole bit about not being scary enough as a bad guy was underdeveloped. He had such potential as a supervillain, but really just seemed to phone it in. But he did have one of the best lines, "I'm UNGASSABLE!!" There were some great action sequences, but since I really only cared about the dialogue and the characters, I was perfectly 'whelmed.' A few great lines, clearly improvised, but for the most part, it seemed a little superficial. I know it's not trying to be more than an action comedy loosely based on an old timey radio show. But it had the potential for a lot of heart.

I think I'd give it a solid 5 or a 6. Maybe more because I am hopelessly devoted to Seth, even if he is engaged (*heart breaks). But the point is, beer is still gross.

Underrated Classics: Not Since You

While Sporadic Sporkitudes isn't a strictly film-centered blog (I tend to write about whatever pops into my head at the moment, be it amateur plumbing, karaoke, or Kobe Bryant-induced vomit), I am indeed obsessed with movies and enjoy spouting the occasional review of a film that strikes my fancy (see my Underrated Classics series: She-Devil, Brief Interviews with Hideous Men, While You Were Sleeping). A few days ago, I got my hot little hands on a screener of the independent drama, "Not Since You." It has been described as "The Big Chill for the 21st century." I'd say this is a fairly accurate comparison (it's thankfully less depressing but also has a less phenomenal soundtrack.) I will now attempt to give a fair, objective review that stays (mostly) on topic.

Obligatory Poster

The film focuses on an ensemble cast of characters who reunite at a wedding in Georgia nearly a decade following their 2001 graduation from NYU. Friendships are rekindled, relationships are formed and tested, old scores are settled and old scars are healed. The opening credits feature a montage of photos establishing characters and relationships in days gone by. The final shot is of the entire group of friends gathered in front of the former Manhattan skyline. Not only did these people experience the changes and inevitable drifting that accompanies moving on, but their lives were forever altered after September 11th. (I got a chilling sensation seeing this photo because I also have pictures of me on top of the World Trade Center in June of 2001.)

Upon an initial glance at the cast list, I immediately recognized Sara Rue from the short-lived but outstanding show Popular (as well the best line in Can't Hardly Wait, "SHEEP! You...are all...sheep. Baaa."). Another familiar face was Christian Kane, who I just saw in Angel this morning (What are the odds?). And while I didn't remember the name, I was instantly stoked to see Elden Henson, formerly the Bash Brother Fulton Reed from the Mighty Ducks (HECK YES!).

You go Fulton!

Slowly the characters, now a little older and marginally wiser, arrive on the breathtakingly beautiful Georgian estate to prepare for the wedding of Ashley and Daniel (?). I'm not quite sure of the groom's name because the film makes the interesting choice of essentially ignoring the couple getting married. It would have been nice to get to know their backstory, but since we already know how they end up, the narratives rely on the wedding party themselves. After all, that's where the drama usually stems from in the weddings I've been to. Something about the combination of booze, formal wear, and desperation brings out the worst in people.

Sam (Desmond Harrington)

The primary storyline features Sam, a dreamy but wounded lone wolf who remarkably resembles Smith Jared from Sex and the City, who still pines for his ex-girlfriend Amy, who is now married to Ryan (Christian Kane with an unfortunate-looking long haircut. Why do guys think that looks good?) What Sam lacks in personality, he makes up for in smoldering sexual tension with Amy as they get their groove on at the reception. That white boy has some moves! Their chemistry is so palpable that Ryan, nice but ultimately bland, cuts in during an awesome display of competitive male posturing. Who doesn't love that? But other than the ridiculously good casting of compatible actors, this narrative is somewhat lackluster and predictable until the very end. I was pleasantly surprised by the outcome, but I'll spare you the spoiler.

A damn good actor, but why the hair?

It does you no favors. Veto.

The other prominent love triangle involving Victoria, Howard and Billy, was a bit more interesting. Howard and Billy had been best friends until Victoria left Howard for Billy. Years had gone by since the two had spoken. The wedding trapped them all in the same place and provided ample booze to fuel the ensuing fireworks. Howard and Billy end up brawling on the dance floor. Later, Billy tries to apologize and asks Howard to be the best man at his own wedding. Howard realizes that he was holding the grudge for so long because he felt betrayed, not because he was really in love with Victoria. The dynamic between these two former best friends was that they fell out over a girl, who wasn't really worth it. As Victoria herself claims (in the world's biggest cliche), "you're in love with the idea of me." But it's true. Once Howard realizes that, he and Billy instantly fall back into their friendship as if no time passed at all.

I'll say it, I think Sara Rue looked better before.

But she's adorable regardless.

The story I was most intrigued by was the burgeoning relationship of the adorably shlubby alcoholic, Joey (Elden Henson/Fulton Reed) and the chipper Southern belle Sarah (Sara Rue, who looks gorgeous in the film, but I honestly think she was more beautiful with a little more meat on her bones). We find out from the start that Sarah has been waiting for marriage to have sex, but given the right guy, she'd "totally be inclined to expedite her schedule," (great line, by the way). Joey has shut himself off from the world after arriving late to work on September 11th only to watch his office come crashing down. The two of them have a very sweet, somewhat awkward romance. Both are undeniably likable and unpretentious. Their unconventional relationship was a breath of fresh air.

Undoubtedly the best scene was when they play Redneck Golf, essentially skeet shooting with ill-fated clay pigeons and over-sized rifles. The activity gives the film a greater sense of identity, taking place in the South and embracing its heritage. Not to mention, it provides an excellent physical representation of sexual tension, jealousy, and anger. Nothing is more cathartic than shooting a gun for the frustrated and suspicious Ryan. Sarah and Joey bond when Sarah teaches him how to aim. Billy and Howard have one more confrontation during this sequence and the rifles do a great job of ratcheting up the stakes. A gun goes off by accident, startling the entire party and increasing everyone's anxiety.

The loose ends are wrapped up during a poignant campfire scene in which most everyone has reconciled and accepted that though they have changed, their friendship has not (aww!). The bride and groom (in a rare appearance) give everyone a copy of the Manhattan skyline photo in rememberence of the last time they were all together. The next day before once again going their separate ways, they take a new picture to commemorate the eventful weekend.

Awww once more!

Overall, I enjoyed "Not Since You" immensely. The scenery was gorgeous, as was the score. There were memorable characters and unforgettable moments. It was beautifully shot, and wonderfully acted. And while there were some narratives that were a bit predictable at times, I firmly believe that you don't have to re-invent the wheel as long as the wheel you make is a good one. I hope to see more from Sara Rue who is criminally under-appreciated, as were many of the actors who have yet to see their big break. "Not Since You" is available on Netflix, so I'd recommend it for a lazy Sunday afternoon when you're feeling nostalgic about your own college friends and wondering what they're up to.

Underrated Classics: Brief Interviews with Hideous Men

I've been sick the past few days, so I've been taking advantage of the opportunity to laze about guilt-free with the excuse that I'm convalescing. Of course the only thing different about the past few days is that I've been consuming mass quantities of Vitamin C in addition to staying in my PJs and watching obscene amounts of Netflix Instant Watch. Having finally finished the magnum opus that is Buffy the Vampire Slayer (how epic was that finale??), and completed the entire British sitcom series Coupling, I was in the mood to finally start checking off the actual films that have been sitting in my queue for months. Today's menu consisted of Singles, Doc Hollywood (unintentional 90s Bridget Fonda mini-marathon), and lastly Brief Interviews with Hideous Men.

Obligatory poster. Kind of a boring one at that.

While the first two failed to really catch my imagination, the latter was absolutely riveting. I'd wanted to see Brief Interviews ever since I just barely missed attending the premiere hosted by John Krasinski himself. You undoubtedly recognize Krasinski as the most adorable male creature on Earth, Jim from the Office (which keeps making an appearance in this blog. I like it, but I'm not as obsessed with it as I come off). But this movie was clearly his baby. He adapted it for the screen, produced, directed, and had a significant role. Busy boy. I really had no idea what it was about, other than it was John Krasinski. It didn't get fabulous reviews, and was basically ignored. I guess critics assumed that all Krasinski was good for was being cute, bored, and snarky in 30 minute intervals. So that explains why I just got around to it tonight.

So freaking adorable! How could you not love this face?

The film really has no plot, which I sometimes have a hard time with in movies, but it works with this one. The premise is a grad student, Sara Quinn, interviewing different men about their experiences with life, love, and women. It's presented in a series of anecdotes and snapshots of characters. Some actual interviews, some encounters that Sara overhears. Her character really is a blank slate until the last few minutes of the film in which we realize her motivation. She observes and records with a frosty demeanor, like a scientist studying lab rats. I hated her at first, but then grew to understand and sympathize deeply with her.

The male cast portraying her subjects, most known only by their numbers (ie. Subject #51), is both incredible and somewhat random. Just to name a few: Will Forte (one of my favorites, a closeted gay man trying desperately to prove he loves women), Timothy Hutton, Will Arnett, Dominic Cooper, Christopher Meloni, even the lead singer of Death Cab for Cutie, Ben Gibbard, it's hard to imagine these people ever existing in the same universe, let alone the same movie. But it is that diversity that brings such scope to the film and its mission:

To prove that all men are hideous.

No, just kidding. I don't really think that was the point. Though there were times when I couldn't help but feel that. I love sociology and trying to understand people, particularly men whom I don't understand at all. I feel like Brief Interviews gave a glimpse into the male psyche and their views on feminism in today's world. Even the characters who were dark and damaged seemed real and grounded, neither truly evil nor heroic. I love flawed morality, individuals who exemplify the full spectrum of human emotion and motivation. So the film geek in me was super-stoked. Especially when I noted the use of jump cuts, non-linear narrative, and obvious influence by the French New Wave (could I sound any more pompous right now?). Those same elements of the uber-indie film kind of annoyed me at the same time. As if the project was trying far too hard to be taken seriously and made almost a mockery of itself by using so many conventions. But enough academic psychobabble. (I miss film school sometimes, can you tell?)

I'd like to pick out three performances in particular during which I couldn't tear my eyes away from my twelve inch tv screen. Krasinski as a director uses the deceptively simple tactic of turning on the camera and just letting it roll. No cutaways, no different angles, no frills to keep our ADD-addled eyes engaged. You're forced to stare at the actors faces as they unravel their painful tales and you aren't ever allowed to look away. That must be tough for the actors as well as the viewers. They have to get it all right in pretty much one take. The first I really noticed was a relatively unknown actor named Frankie Faison. I'm not sure how his role really fit in with the themes of the other interviews, but his story was intense.

Frankie Faison is amazing.

He talked about his father's career as the best bathroom attendant in one of the top-ranked historical hotels in the area. Everyday his father would show up for work in his freshly pressed all-white uniform and silently hand millionaires and CEOs towels. He took pride in his work, and in being unnoticed though he heard and saw all in the marble men's room with gold-leafed light fixtures. The subject (Faison) could never decide whether to be proud that his father worked so hard to put food on the table, or disgusted that he would degrade himself in such a manner. Faison refused to ever wear a single white article of clothing. The scene would cut back and forth to his father working in the men's room, and the subject relating it afterwards, causing the two realities to merge. This method of storytelling occurs frequently in the film, with great effectiveness.

Oh Dominic...Sigh

Another great performance was by Dominic Cooper, whom I had loved before from The History Boys, The Duchess, and Mamma Mia. I knew he was talented, but his character managed to be unhinged, frightening, and sympathetic all at once. He plays an undergrad in a class Sara TA's for. He writes a provocative paper about the survivors of rape and abuse and challenges Sara to consider the unexpected long-term benefits of such traumatic experiences. Naturally this produces a knee jerk reaction for Sara and all audience members both female and male. But he makes an excellent point. They've been through the worst thing they could ever possibly imagine, and they are still here. I'm not sure if I personally agree with his perspective, but it was thought-provoking. Sara is appalled by this, but Cooper defends his argument in three different scenes cut together. He explains that his sister was raped by four men who inflicted all manner of abuse upon her. But she survived. As his story becomes more and more intense, he finally reveals it was not his sister, but himself who was raped. The more interesting factor is, does this make a difference in how she views his paper? Whoa... mindfuck right?

The last and most impressive display was by John Krasinski himself. I'd seen him in a few bit parts in movies here and there. The films Leatherheads and License to Wed in which he actually had leads, were sadly eh. I was never really in love with any character other than Jim which he plays effortlessly, implying that he is just being himself. The one exception would be Away We Go which you must watch this very instant because it is outstanding. But by the time his big monologue towards the end was finished, I was almost in tears. He plays Sara's ex-boyfriend who cheated on her with some hippie chick. He explains with sociopathic detail about how he managed to seduce this woman with the intent of a one night stand. He connects with her for as long as it took to get her into bed, hitting all the right notes. Krasinski comes off as a jackass, but an insightful one. He's not afraid that the audience might hate him.

But then he relates the story that the hippie chick told him about how she was hitchhiking and was picked up by a sex offender. She knew as soon as she got into the car that something was wrong. Her faith was telling her to look the man directly in his eye and to empathize with him, no matter what. Not to scream, to plea, but to listen. By the time he actually raped her, he was crying. I had mixed feelings about the story itself, but Krasinski's retelling was incredible. He starts off so cool and Jim-like. But the power of the anecdote moved him. And Sara's unflappable expression pisses him off. He knows that she's judging him and calls her out on it. It's a very powerful scene that ruined my view of Jim a little (no man gets to call a woman a bitch under any circumstances), but increased my opinion of John as an actor. Who knew he had such skills?

And one more for good measure. Good on you, John.

To wrap up, Brief Interviews with Hideous Men is sadly underrated (5.7 rating on IMDB). I can't wait to see more from John Krasinski as a director and as an actor with meatier roles than the All-American put-upon male lead in chick flicks. I'm curious to see what he would do with a more conventional film. Plus, he's just pretty to look at, swooooon! I hope I didn't give too much away. There is far too much substance to this film to really ruin it by highlighting a few of its best features. Anyway, give it a chance. It's on instant watch, so there's really no excuse not to.

Inspirational Montage

Having been out of a job for over two weeks now, I'd have to say unemployment is a lot less scary this time around. I've learned that the world is not going to end just because I don't have a steady income right now (though having my unemployment check be three times what it was last year helps with that fear, plus I'm not blowing my savings on a whirlwind trip to far-off continents). My skin is a lot thicker and my persistence is more persistent. I've learned to get over my fear of shamelessly asking what few contacts I have for hookups (job hookups, not the booty kind). That's the secret. As a woman, and a non-confrontational woman at that, I have a hard time asking for help. I don't want to be a burden and bother busy people. But it never hurts to ask. I've discovered that most people love being able to help. It makes them feel useful and validates that they've truly made it in their own careers. I only wish I'll be in that position someday to verify my theory.

Ideally me in ten years. The Mary of course. Or the Tina in my case.

"Do you have some sort of businesswoman's special?"

A former/current internship supervisor of mine called me today regarding an inquiry e-mail I had sent a few weeks back. I knew she was busy and didn't take it personally that she hadn't responded. In truth, I had forgotten about it. I'm a bit of an out-of-sight, out-of-mind type of person sometimes. But we talked for thirty minutes, which is hours in entertainment industry time. She didn't know of any positions in particular, but she was willing to pass my resume along to people who might. I appreciated that, like you wouldn't believe. Then she bestowed upon me all of her hard-earned pearls of wisdom about being unemployed in this business, never giving up even if you're forced to take a non-industry job just to keep a roof over your head, to network my ass off, and keep writing no matter what it costs.

A lot of which I sort of knew, and everyone tells me constantly. But to hear it from a mentor who knows exactly what you're going through and is willing to help, was just what I needed right now. Not to mention everyone needs a little encouragement and positive reinforcement from time to time. Right now I'm in a holding pattern regarding another opportunity. As my friend so eloquently stated, "My whole life is a holding pattern." We're thinking of making bumper stickers. But I refuse to count my un-hatched chickens or run around with my head cut off, putting all my eggs in one basket (so many chicken metaphors, why?) And even though it's not in the film industry, I feel better knowing that I'm not giving up by putting a roof over my head. I can always write no matter what I'm doing to pay the bills.

Me now.

So with her support, I'm going to do my damnedest to not let her down. I'm going to make a writing schedule, go to every networking event I can scare up, maintain every contact I have, and think outside the box regarding jobs I should apply to. Even if this particular job doesn't come through (and it might not because I have a tendency to ramble, and I discovered after the interview that I had lipstick on my teeth), I'll be ok. I can just picture myself now standing in front of a green-screened American flag waving as a John Williams orchestra crescendos in the background.

Not me at all, but you get the picture.

And hopefully the pictures livened up this admittedly dull post.

"Ellen Feeds off Your Energy"

I am simultaneously exhausted and ecstatic. Literally dragging my feet on air (if that's possible). I just got home from one of the longest and yet most amazing days of my life. Thanks to our friend Nicky being a total flake (which is why we love you!), I got to go to a live taping of the Ellen Degeneres show with my partner in crime (and by crime I mean obsessively quoting How I Met Your Mother among other things), Kelly Bean.

The queen of all things delightful!

I haven't watched the show very much to be honest. I'm not usually around during the day, and if I am, I haven't had even basic network television for almost two years now. But I love Ellen with all my heart and soul. She is a goddess. I worship at the altar of her witty yet relatively clean standup ("Gloria Estefan is the copper plumbing of the music industry!"). Her performance as Dory made Finding Nemo one of the few computer animated I absolutely adore. And of course there's her courage, kindness, and all around kick-assness that cannot be denied. Naturally I was so there it was insane. Not to mention I am a film geek and will look for any chance even to be in the same vicinity as the people who make movies and television. I would have been happy just to sit in the parking lot (which we did a lot of today...).

After waking up absurdly early to beat the surprisingly non-existent traffic to the Valley, I picked up Kelly Bean and headed out to Burbank towards the Promised Land (aka Warner Brothers). It was tough, with Kelly's bitch of a GPS guide (not so lovingly named Karen), mumbling orders seconds before they had to be executed, but we made it there before 9 am. We got our tickets, 287 and 288, and prepared to sit for 5 or 6 hours until the show started. Luckily the nice, perky show wrangler Kathryn (who looks startlingly like Rachel from Glee), told us we could skedaddle until check-in at 1:30pm. So we returned to Studio City to watch Arrested Development and eat pasta salad. Riveting, I know.

Later, we headed back to Warner Brothers where Abercrombie Chad, the nice, cute, possibly gay wrangler helped us to get checked in. Meanwhile I grilled the security guard (who went to film school like me) how he liked working for the WB. Always networking, that's my occasional motto. Kelly and I played Crazy 8s and Go Fish with the tiny cards I always keep with me for just such occasions, while hoards upon hoards of people arrived. We got to see a few episodes of Ellen while we waited, which was ever so pleasant, and heightened the anticipation of seeing the Great One in the flesh. But as time wore on and announcements were made, it became clear that we might not actually get into the taping. They overbook the show like crazy, so most standby ticketholders end up watching the show from the aptly named Riff Raff Room.

Since awesome things like this rarely work out for me, I assumed that we would end up among the Riff Raff. I hate getting my hopes up just to be disappointed. "I bet they cut it off right in front of us," I wagered to Kelly Bean. I bet her the enormous sum of $3, which of course she now owes me. Yes. I was the very first person in line in the Riff Raff Room. We started the process before 9 in the morning, and here it was 2 in the afternoon and we weren't going to get in, despite Kathryn/Glee Rachel playing with our hopes. When the seats had all been filled, she looked at me and said "We have room for one more." Seriously? Well Kelly was the whole reason I was there, I couldn't just abandon her because I'd arbitrarily grabbed 287 and not 288. So she called for a single rider and someone else took the very last spot in the Cathedral of Degeneres.

While some mediocre comedian warmed up the crowd in the next room, Kathryn attempted to console the unwashed, unchosen masses with a raffle. Oooh lord knows I'd take a good raffle over meeting one of my idols any day of the week. But sure enough she called out '287,' obviously unaware that I never win anything. Part of me thinks she took pity on me being first in line and rigged it. But in any case, the winners were led into a corner to claim our prize. Which turned out to be "12 tickets." At least that's what I heard. I had no idea what that meant. Like twelve tickets to twelve different shows? Cool, I guess, but some of us (ideally) have work. But all the shrieking middle aged, big haired ladies informed us that she meant the "Twelve Days of Christmas" series of the Ellen Show. Apparently the first couple weeks of Christmas, Ellen gives everyone in the audience thousands of dollars worth of gifts. FUCK YES!! (Though I just know something is going to come up that will prevent me from getting my gifts and actually seeing the show being taped.)

At last it was time for the show to start. Eva Mendes was first. Eh. Then Flo Rida performed "Club Can't Even Handle Me" completely off-key but that song is a bit of a guilty pleasure for me. And it was awesome when he removed his comically oversized gold glitter bling necklace and bestowed it upon a lucky audience member. All this we watched from the next room by the Ellen gift shop, close enough to hear the audience clapping, laughing, hooting, uproariously. Kind of depressing, even though I scored with the Twelve Days tickets.

The last guest on the show was Mindy Kaling, who is another one of my idols. We didn't know who the guests were going to be until we got there, and I think I was the only one ridiculously stoked about her. For those not aware, Mindy is Kelly Kapoor from the Office, but she also happens to be one of the main writers (the genius who created Jim and Pam's epic wedding episodes), as well as an executive producer. Plus I follow her twitter and she is hi-larious! Mindy even has the honor of being mentioned in my inaugural Sporadic Sporkitudes blog. That's how much I adore her. Sadly, her segment wasn't terribly good, but she is still one of my role models.

Mindy along with fellow

writer/producer BJ (tee hee) Novak

During one of the commercial breaks, the lights turned up in the Riff Raff Room. Kathryn made everyone stand and turn towards the main staircase. Everyone was buzzing, "She's coming! She's coming! Oh my god, she's coming!" Which sounds kind of foreboding, but as I saw a shadow coming down the hall, I knew it was her. Ellen came down the stairs, not six feet from me, smiling and waving to the peasant folk below. She was so beautiful, with her brilliant blue eyes sparkling, and her smile genuine and gracious. Sort of like a lesbian Grace Kelly. Even if I hadn't won the raffle, that moment right there would have been worth the hours of waiting on the drafty parking lot bench area, and the disappointment of just barely missing the Cathedral.

The show was ending, and Kelly and I bolted to the door to beat the traffic of Ellen-sheep. But Kathryn halted us. There was more? Sometimes they film segments from different shows when they can and SURPRISE! Ben Affleck was there! Kathryn pulled me aside and said they had one seat to fill. I looked at Kelly, then asked, "It's only this segment, right?" So I headed up the stairs, totally pumping my fist the whole way. I got lost at first, but then they led me to a seat in the second row! I was in heaven. There was the set, the cameras, the real audience, everything! I tried to take it all in, but was overwhelmed.

YAY!

Ellen came out in a new outfit, and introduced Ben Affleck. My 7th grade self was delighted to observe that in real life Ben is super tall (a particular fetish of mine), with super nice teeth, just as studly as he is in the movies. (Now that he's starting to take himself and his work more seriously, I can respect him again.) So I got to be an audience member for about 15 minutes. I thought it would be awesome to dance around and get my groove on. But let me tell you, it was AWKWARD. Especially since I was all by myself, kinda tired, and slightly self-conscious that I looked kind of rumpled with greasy long-day face (after I had applied my make up so carefully and selected the perfect outfit for my television debut). The comedian kept making us clap and shout way longer than was natural, and it was hard. Woe is me!

Catch Ellen's show on Wednesday to try and find me during the Ben Affleck segment. I'm sure I looked awesome. Even more awesome about getting to watch this small part, was that I got to win the stuff Ellen gave away! The Riff Raff Room does not get presents, it turns out. But I was entitled to a Flo Rida CD (woo?) and a $100 gift card to Victoria Secret. Personally, I'd rather just have $100. I'm not big on the frilly things, and I'm too big to actually wear anything from there. So I gave it to Kelly Bean so she wouldn't hate me as much for getting to see the set. Fair tradeoff? Sort of? Well she's my guest for the Twelve Day's show, so we'll both score then, hopefully. (I want a new tv, a laptop, and a pony Ellen!). They called me right when I got home today and we are scheduled for December 14th. Even without the gifts, I'll just be stoked to see a whole show. It is such a high, even though this is is really only the second live taping I've seen in my life. The first being a sitcom pilot that never got picked up though I enjoyed it immensely.

What else could explain her

youthful appearance and demeanor?

Sorry this is such a Russian novel, but one of the funniest things I noted was the oft-repeated wrangler phrase, "Ellen feeds off your energy." Meaning, dance, cheer, clap, etc. But the way they said it made it seem like Ellen is some kind of demon who literally feeds on your soul. The more you applaud, the stronger she grows. Soon she'll be UNSTOPPABLE! Why else do you think she dances so much? But if any one person has to take over the world, I'm glad it's going to be Ellen. But I am utterly exhausted, so I think she really did drain my energy and use it to stay so young at heart...

Kickass Women in Film

Today I was fortunate enough to break away from mountains of paperwork to attend an incredible seminar entitled "The Chick Flick Grows Up," programmed by the organization Women in Film. I'd been looking forward to this conference ever since I found out that the panel would include the writer/directors of some of my favorite films: Karen McCullah (10 Things I Hate About You, Legally Blond, She's the Man), Lisa Cholodenko (The Kids Are Alright, which I plan to see ASAP, Laurel Canyon), and Gina Prince-Bythewood (Love and Basketball, The Secret Life of Bees). I was stoked just to be in the same room as these ladies. They could have talked about navel lint and Panamanian tadpoles and I would have been enthralled. But in an hour and a half, they covered some fairly major issues. Here comes the obligatory list:

Karen McCullah Lutz

1. What is a 'chick flick?' Does the term "ghettoize/marginalize" the creators and/or audience of female-driven content? (Yes they used the word 'ghettoize' than once. It made me giggle.)

2. Why are so many female-centric films still directed by men? Television has a much greater proportion of female directors; why has film yet to catch up? Kathryn Bigelow and the Hurt Locker. How a female director transcended her gender to win Best Picture.

3. Ageism in the media. There are so few actresses over forty who can get a project greenlit right away, if they can get cast at all.

4. Why is a female-written R-rated romantic comedy like the Ugly Truth (penned by McCullah) derided in reviews as "obscene" when Judd Apatow's films are praised for their vulgarity. (I'm not saying the Ugly Truth is as good as Knocked Up. But it does make you wonder why male writers/directors/actors can get away with with swearing like sailors and minds in the gutter, but it's inappropriate for women to be raunchy.)

5. The concept of "likeability." Impossible to define and even harder to create consistently. Prince-Bythewood told an anecdote about how studio executives didn't think Sanaa Latham was likeable enough because she wasn't smiling in the majority of the first week of dailies (most of the scenes were heavily dramatic). They were also perplexed by why she didn't seem to enjoy losing her virginity in a pivotal scene. The women in the audience had a good laugh at that one. She was chided for being too realistic.

Gina Prince-Bythewood

6. MPAA ratings and how they affect the final draft of the script. The House Bunny was supposed to be R rated. It was about a Playboy model, for god's sake. But in order to capitalize on McCullah's Legally Blonde audience, they had to tone down the naughty humor. Sacrificing tone for mainstream appeal.

7. Why everyone loves scripts by Prince-Bythewood and Cholodenko, but no one will pay for them. High quality movies that they want to see get made, but aren't willing to risk millions of dollars on primarily black casts (that haven't played well internationally), or cause controversy by addressing the subject of homosexuality in a family context.

8. How casting is often decided by a formula that determines a star's 'international worth,' rather than who is best for the role.

9. What it means to compromise during the marketing campaign and let the experts get butts in the seats. It may not always be what you want, but if it gets people to see your movie, you have to pick your battles.

10. Paying respect to male characters in female-centric movies (as opposed to the arc-less, shrew girlfriends in most male-driven fare)

Any one of those topics could make for fantastic feminist/film research papers, but I'm not willing to delve deeper for a silly little blog. If any of them strike your interest, feel free to discuss in the comments. And now for some sound bites (they may not be exact quotes, but I think I got the spirit of them):

"Men are often surprised at how funny 'Legally Blonde' is." -McCullah on the subtle sexism of lowered expectations.

"No one ever thought of it as a black book. It was just a book." -Prince-Bythewood on 'The Secret Life of Bees.'

"Don't limit yourself when writing. Let them worry about the budget." -McCullah

"It's all about the way you feel when you leave the theater." -Prince-Bythewood on why no one thought Slumdog Millionaire would ever find an audience with no stars.

"Your film's gotta have great laughs or great sex. Something that really gets the heart beating." -Cholodenko on advice she was given by male studio execs.

"Dear ____, I"m so sorry about your tiny penis." -McCullah in response to a critic who didn't appreciate the line about Joey Donner's tiny dick in 10 Things.

"Once you label yourself as something, others will label you as well." -Prince-Bythewood, on being an African-American woman who refuses to pigeonhole the stories she wants to tell.

Lisa Cholodenko

Overall it was an inspiration just to share oxygen with women who have overcome discrimination of all kinds to achieve both critical acclaim and commercial success. They were insightful and hilarious (especially Karen McCullah. I now regret dissing the Ugly Truth. It was a cute movie that took place in my under-appreciated hometown of Sacramento). The experience reignited my easily vanquished desire to write. It gave me hope that I might one day sit on that very panel and inspire some other lazy girl with a blog and a dream. It was also fun to see three women who may share an occupation and a role in reversing the marginalization of women in the film industry, but have nothing else in common and clearly can't stand each other.

Nude Nuns with Big Guns!

"This sister is one bad mother." I swear to god, Nude Nuns with Big Guns is a real movie, and no it's not a porno. The rights to distribute it worldwide are on sale at the American Film Market in Santa Monica, so come on down! I saw the ad for it while running an errand and just about flipped out in front of all the international film executives. I NEED to see this movie because:

This could be the new greatest story ever told.

1. I freaking LOVE nuns!!! As evidenced by those joyful, leaping ladies in black to your right. Why do I love nuns? I'm not really sure. It's probably because I'm not Catholic and am therefore not frightened of them. Though I was a bit unnerved by the films "Sex in a Cold Climate" and "The Magdalene Sisters." (Which I highly recommend despite such painful thematic content). Maybe I identify with nuns on some level. I'm not sure how, since I revile all religion and any philosophy that practices extreme self-discipline and denial. But nuns make me happy. In fact, whenever I see them in real life I try to sneakily take a picture. It would take years of psychoanalysis to explain it, which I can't afford. So just accept that Hutch loves nuns.

2. Nude nuns? This intrigued me. How can a nun be a nun if she's nude? How do you know she's a nun if she's naked? Does she wear a habit? A cross? How do they solve this dilemma? My curiosity has been piqued. It's just such a contradiction.

3. I am sick and love violence for some reason. Especially when it's women kicking ass in any capacity. So nuns kicking ass, HELL YEAH!!

4. That tagline is priceless. So many taglines are just plain awful. So you have to reward their stellar marketing department's efforts.

5. I swear to god I heard this project being pitched when I was an intern at a small production company in college. I was sitting outside the producer's office listening to some overly-enthusiastic guy shout about "Nuns coming in with tits and guns a-blazin'." I don't know if it's the same exact movie, but I knew then and there that I had to check that out.

To make a long and complicated list short (too late), this is the movie of my dreams. Sadly, it will probably turn out to be awful. Especially now that I've put all my hopes and dreams into it. Just like what happened with "The Nun," a horror movie about a Satanic woman of the cloth. Not good. Wasted potential. You hate to see that happen. So maybe I should never actually see "Nude Nuns with Big Guns." Because it will never be as good as the movie in my head.

And in other AFM news, I could have sworn I spotted Dustin Hoffman walking on the fifth floor of the Loews, but upon closer observation of his badge...it wasn't. Oh well. Perhaps I'll never get to confront him about not hiring me to work at his production company (though I doubt he was involved personally in that decision). So no brilliant Oscar-Winning actors today, or even underrated sitcom dads. But there is rumored to be a Thai princess arriving later this evening. I guess she's in one of the movies being sold. There's even a red carpet for her arrival. Super keen.

I'd like to take this moment to say that if you are a potential employer considering hiring me for your high-profile production company that handles A-list clients like Dustin Hoffman and John Marshall Jones, please note that I swear I will be much more discreet about those persons of interest that I encounter.

Underrated Classics: She-Devil

I've spent pretty much the entire day indulging in Halloween candy and Netflix instant watch, and it has been glorious. I focused on the work of the Coen brothers primarily (Raising Arizona, Barton Fink, and The Big Lebowski). Brilliant directors, with such a rare sense of humor and unique perspective on filmmaking (cough pompous cough). But the film that really struck me during today's cinematic binge-fest was the 1989 revenge masterpiece, She-Devil, starring Meryl Streep, Rosanne, and Ed Begley Jr.

Wow, that is a truly awful poster. Disregard this, please.

It was a film I watched a lot on TV when I was younger, but I haven't seen it in probably ten years. I find it sad that it only has a 4.7 rating on imdb, when I think it is immensely satisfying on so many levels. The acting is a bit over the top, especially Meryl Streep as the downward-spiraling romance novelist (she's allowed to have one role that isn't destined for an Oscar nomination). But Roseanne's portrayal of Ruth Patchett, the maligned frump of a housewife should be legendary.

The bodice-rippers that Mary Fisher (Streep) writes provide fantasy and escapism for bored, neglected women like Ruth. For the most part, regular chick flicks serve the same purpose. What makes She-Devil rare is that it features an unlikely heroine who is unattractive (not just in a glasses and ponytail kind of way), surprisingly nefarious, and not above manipulation to reach her goals. This is not a Katherine Heigl movie. Roseanne, though she may have her flaws as an actress, represents a large portion of female movie-goers. She's a helluva lot more relatable than some 5'10' blonde, thin, perky bimbo. Through Ruth, viewers who may have also been wronged by a husband, boyfriend, or life in general, can live vicariously through her plotting and scheming to systematically destroy all that Bob (Begley Jr.) holds dear.

This is the face of America. Deal with it. Hawt.

During that process, Ruth discovers self-confidence, takes pride in her appearance, and develops a small army of women that society disregards as outcasts who don't fit the Mary Fisher mold. I've never personally experienced anything like Ruth's philandering, embezzling, and downright cruel husband. But when Ruth pulls the strings that annihilate Bob's home, career, and freedom (he ends up in prison for 18 months), I'm right there with her, cheering as hellish flames engulf the "she-devil." Now this is my kind of chick flick. And other than maybe Thelma and Louise (whose screenwriter I totally met!), I can't think of another movie that so perfectly demonstrates a true female revenge fantasy. (While I kind of enjoyed John Tucker Must Die, it really doesn't count.)

Ultimately, it's not the greatest movie in the world. But I LOVE it, and it just might be worth checking out if you're feeling kind of man-hatey at the moment.