A Legend Lost

Director Blake Edwards left us today at age 88, after a career in TV and film that spanned more than 5 decades. Starting with the screenplay and an appearance in 1948's Panhandle, Edwards was involved with dozens of projects before making a directorial splash with 1961's Breakfast at Tiffany's, a toned-down version of Truman Capote's novel about free-spirit Holly Golighlty and her love affair with the ambiguously sexual Fred. Andy Rooney's performance as Holly's Japanese landlord may well be one of the most horrifically racist since Gone With the Wind, but Audrey Hepburn's iconic performance and the classic "little black dress" will live on in the hearts of movie-lovers forever. 

Gee, wasn't George Peppard dreamy?

Of course, Edwards' greatest successes would come with the Pink Panther series, starring the amazing Peter Sellars as the incompetent Inspector Clouseau. The films went on well beyond Sellars' interest in them, but each one seemed funnier than the last (until Sellars' death, when archival footage was combined with new material to make really terrible films).

Oh, Herbert Lom and that twitching eye!

Then there was 10, the film that made Bo Derek a star and turned Ravel's "Bolero" into the ultimate sex accompaniment:

Next, he turned the world's sweetheart, Julie Andrews (and his devoted wife) into a sex object by exposing her breasts in S.O.B.

Then came his last great film, 1982's Victor Victoria, a remake of a German film about a performer who pretends to be a transvestite in order to make her name in Parisian burlesque in the 1930's. Victor Victoria is one of my favorite movies, not in the least in part due to the amazing performance of Robert Preston as Victoria's gay agent, Toddy. Julie Andrews; James Garner; Alex Karras and the amazingly hilarious Leslie Ann Warren all give the best performances of their careers in this delightfully funny film about sexual ambiguity and art of theatrical illusion.I made sure I was in attendance for Ms. Andrews' last Broadway performance in the stage adaptation, but was disappointed to find that it lacked the spark that made Edwards' film so delightful. Still, it was Julie on Broadway - a magical experience in and of itself.

After Victor Victoria, Edwards directed a few less-than successful comedies like Micki & Maude; A Fine Mess; Blind Date; Skin Deep and  Switch. But none of them had the success or finesse of his earlier works. Married to Julie Andrews for over 40 years, Edwards was an old-school Hollywood veteran, the likes of which we will probably never see again. I for one, am very saddened by his passing and can only hope that cinema will see will his like again.

More, anon.

Prospero

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Forgotten Gems: "The Ghost and Mr. Chicken"

Well, it's been quite a while since I've done a 'Forgotten Gems' post, and this is a movie I've been meaning to talk about for a while, but just never got around to, for some reason.

A childhood favorite of Uncle P and his sister, The Ghost and Mr. Chicken is a 1966 vehicle made solely for the purpose of showcasing the physical comedy attributes of its star, Don Knotts ("Mayberry, RFD;" The Incredible Mr. Limpet; Pleasantville). 

Knotts plays Luther Heggs, a lowly typesetter at a small town newspaper who dreams of being a real reporter. When the 20th anniversary of the town's most infamous murder/suicide rolls around, Luther is finally given his big break - he is assigned to spend the night in the 'murder house,' where the ghost of Mr. Simmons has been reported to be heard playing the organ at midnight. Luther is terrified and has a horrible night, but his account is a sensation and the paper sells more copies than it ever has. Until he's sued by the Simmons' only heir for libel and made to look like the fool he is in court. It doesn't help that he's in love with a gal completely out of his league or that his 'mail order karate lessons' are just ridiculous. And I don't know about you, but a night in this house would surely freak me out:

The only other name you might recognize in the cast is Dick Sargent (best known as the second Darren on "Bewitched") but there are plenty of 50's and 60's character actors you'll recognize like Reta Shaw (Mary Poppins); Sandra Gould  (the 2nd Mrs Crabtree on "Bewitched" - is there a pattern here?) and Ellen Corby ("The Waltons"). The movie is actually quite silly and would never fly today (though I imagine some studio 'genius' is contemplating a big-budget remake starring Jim Carrey, Jack Black or Seth Rogan as I type this) but no one did physical comedy quite as well as Knotts:

The Ghost and Mr. Chicken  may not be the best movie ever made. Or even the funniest. Still, it brings a smile to my face and elicits fond memories of my childhood. If you've never seen it, you should. Just remember to access your inner 8 year-old before you press "play" on the remote. If you do, you'll find a delightfully goofy movie suitable for the entire family.

More, anon.
Prospero

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Mini-Review: "Due Date"

Matty and I finally managed to get together to see a movie tonight. We had a list of about 6 movies we both wanted to see and finally narrowed it down to Due Date, mostly because we were in the mood to laugh.

Robert Downey, Jr. (Iron Man) stars as uptight architect Peter Highman, who is on his way home to L.A. from Atalanta to attend the birth of his first child. A chance encounter at the airport with wannabe actor Ethan Tremblay (Zach Galifianakis) leads to both of them ending up on the No-Fly list and forcing them to travel across the country together, much like Steve Martin and John Candy in John Hughes' superior 1987 film Planes, Trains and Automobiles. 

Ethan is obsessed with "Two and a Half Men," carries his father's ashes in a coffee can and is addicted to pot. He thinks the Grand Canyon was man made, the Pilgrims built Hoover Dam and that Shakespeare was a pirate who was actually named 'Shakes Beard.' He's the type of eccentric moron that would have been played by John Candy 30 years ago or Chris Farley 20 years ago. Peter is obsessed with logical thinking and maintaining propriety. He's the kind of priggish, rich asshole that would have been played by Chevy Chase 30 years ago or Steve Martin 20 years ago (when they were both still funny).

Due Date is a raunchier version of the kind of mismatched buddy picture we've seen a hundred times before, but filled with masturbation and pot jokes. Juliette Lewis (Natural Born Killers) is on hand as a "pharmacist" and Jamie Fox (Ray) is Peter's pro football buddy. Sadly none of them can save this cliche-ridden picture from its own mediocrity. Happily, Galifianakis' performance is just sweet and vulnerable enough to make it tolerable. Downey is fine, though his character is so despicably nasty, one wonders why a wide-eyed optimist like Ethan would want to spend time with him. Director Todd Phillips (The Hangover) keeps things moving along at a brisk pace, though the script (by Phillips and three other writers) barely stops long enough to explain why the two choose to stay together all the way to Los Angeles. Amusing at best, Due Date is the kind of movie where you park your brain at the ticket booth and just go along for the ridiculous ride and appreciate the most ridiculous moments for what they are. ** (Two Out of  Four Stars).

I must, however, once again object to parents who bring their children to age-inappropriate films. Seated in front of us were a mother and four kids, none of whom were more than 12. Due Date is rated "R" for sexual situations, language and drug use. What on Earth possessed this woman to think it was okay to bring these kids to this movie? I know there were moments when she had to feel uncomfortable (I wouldn't have wanted to be part of the conversation on that ride home). And needless to say, the kids talked loudly, got up often and laughed only at the most obvious of jokes. Even I was uncomfortable knowing they were seeing this movie.

Parents, leave your children at home when seeing a movie obviously aimed at adults.

More, anon.

Prospero

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Bill Clinton, Actor?

Yikes! People magazine is reporting that former President Bill Clinton (he of the scandalous cigar) will be making a cameo as himself in The Hangover 2. This comes after the announcement that Mel  "Sugartits" Gibson would -- and then wouldn't -- be doing the same.

Hey - if Nixon could do "Laugh-In" (remember kiddies, your Uncle P is old...), then why shouldn't Clinton appear in a raunchy sex-comedy? I can't think of a better genre for the man, can you? Of course, Nixon wasn't yet President when he appeared on the subversive NBC sketch comedy and Clinton is a former President. I mean, it's pretty unlikely that Mr. Obama is going to make a cameo in Porky's 3 anytime soon. 

I must admit, I am Clinton fan. Sure, he created the woefully inept DADT policy, but the US economy under his administration was the strongest it had been in a long time. "But, he had an affair!" I can hear some of you thinking (yes, Uncle P can indeed hear some of you thinking, so be careful what you think). So did many POTUSes. He was impeached because he lied about sex. Hell, most people in this country should be impeached, then. He didn't lie about WMDs, start an unnecessary war or authorize torture and other war-crimes. He didn't drive our economy into a tailspin by spending trillions killing thousands US soldiers and innocent Iraqis. He didn't steal an election by having a brother who was governor of the deciding state. He didn't authorize millions of illegal wiretaps or suspend habeus corpus. And I imagine that if 9/11 had happened on his watch, he wouldn't have sat dumbly staring out into space for almost a minute while trying to figure out what to do. And I never once heard Bill say anything like this:

So why shouldn't private citizen Clinton make an appearance in The Hangover 2? He has a right to do whatever he wants (within reason, of course), just as you and I do. Who knows, maybe he'll inhale this time. Personally, I don't care, just as long as Bradley Cooper spends most of the movie like this.

More, anon.
Prospero

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Review: "Dinner for Schmucks" (Plus Bonus Video Hilarity)

By now, many of you know of my general disdain for remakes, though occasionally an American version of a foreign film can be quite good (The Ring; The Bird Cage). Usually, though, something gets lost in the translation and it just doesn't work (Pulse; Swept Away - though in the case of that last movie, we all know why it really sucked). But the trailer for Dinner for Schmucks was very funny and the casting looked amazing.

The original 1998 French film Le diner de cons (The Dinner Game), written by Francis Veber (La cage aux folles; Le jouet [The Toy] and Le grand blond avec une chaussure noir [The Tall Blond with One Black Shoe] -- all of which have been remade and adapted in variously successful ways) was a very European black comedy about doing whatever it takes to get to the top. It's very funny, but also very, very mean-spirited.

So, after an exceptionally delicious meal at Hunami in Princeton (featuring the most astonishingly good vegetable dumplings either of us had ever had), D and I went to see Dinner for Schmucks.

As adapted by the writers of The Ex (a movie I actually liked a lot), Dinner for Schmucks is a kinder, gentler, more Disneyfied version, more suited toward the post-sexual revolution America and their parents. Recently revealed obsession Paul Rudd is Tim, a 6th floor corporate drone, looking for his opportunity to move up to the 7th floor and an office of his own, so he can convince his long-term girlfriend that he's worthy of marrying. After the ouster of a 7th floor exec, Tim makes his move, impressing his boss (Star Trek's Bruce Greenwood) enough to consider him for promotion, upon completion of a challenge. Once a month, each executive brings a guest to a special dinner. The challenge is to see which executive can bring the biggest idiot. If Tim wins the challenge, the promotion is his. Girlfriend and art gallery curator Julie (Stephanie Szostak) finds the idea repulsive and Tim agrees to cancel. Until he literally runs into Barry (Steve Carrell), a weird IRS worker and amateur taxidermist who is in the midst of recreating famous works of art as "Mouseterpieces." Thinking he has secured his promotion, Tim invites Barry to a dinner for "extraordinary people.' Needless to say, all sort of chaos ensues.

As I watched Dinner for Schmucks, I couldn't help but think of the similarities between it and Larry Shue's astonishingly funny 1981 play The Nerd, in conceit, if not plot. In The Nerd, a 30 year-old architect thinks he's living the life he's always wanted, when an exceptionally stupid and socially inept person enters his life, causing chaos which ultimately leads to... (somewhat of a SPOILER ALERT) happily ever afters all around. Change professions and replace a plot-twist or two with... well, not exactly plot twists, and you have Dinner for Schmucks.

The still-adorable Rudd plays Tim as the perfect straight man to all the insanity around him (20 years ago, Clooney would have played this part and 50 years ago, Jack Lemmon). Ron Livingston (Office Space) plays Rudd's nemesis, affronted by Tim's audacity. Other dinner guests include an array of popular character actors, including Chris O'Dowd as a blind swordsman; Jeff Dunham as a ventriloquist married to a slutty dummy; Octavia Spencer as a Pet Medium (I see dead puppies?) and Patrick Fischler as a scarred and bandaged vulture enthusiast.

Of course, Carrell is the heart of the movie. Barry may be really stupid, but he's never afraid to tell the truth and never afraid to be himself. A master of babbling (see Bruce, Almighty), Carrell manages to make Barry's malapropisms, historical ignorance and complete lack of social skills endearing, rather than annoying (even D went "Awwww..." at one revealing moment). Super-shiny smile ablaze, Carrell's Barry refuses to be beaten down, no matter how horribly life seems to have treated him. Almost stealing the movie away from Carrell are Jemaine Clement ("The Flight of the Conchords") as a self-absorbed artist and Zach Galifianakas (The Hangover) as Barry's co-worker Therman, who has convinced Barry that he has the power of mind-control.

Director Jay Roach (Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery) keeps the ultimately gentle farce moving along at an appropriate pace and manages to capture several very funny set-pieces, though with no particular style of which to take note. D and I laughed often, despite the movie's rather predictable plot. The biggest laughs came from the performances of Carrell and the other dinner guests. I imagine the Blu-Ray release will include all kinds of hilarious improvs that were left out of the final cut. Hardly a comedy masterpiece, Dinner for Schmucks (which curiously never uses the word "schmuck" in its dialog) is probably the best comedy of the summer, though that's not saying much in what I am officially dubbing The Summer of Movies that Sucked. Amusing and relatively inoffensive (which is also its biggest problem), Dinner for Schmucks was ultimately better than either of us expected, by not quite as good as I had hoped. **1/2 (Two and a Half Stars out of Four).

And (as promised in this post's title) here's a special bonus:

Ladies and Gentlemen, the next Governor of the Great State of Tennessee?

So do I get murdered or do I go to jail? Make up my mind, please.

Okay, now that you've watched it once, go back and watch it again with the Closed Captioning turned on and see the even more hilarious results of the CC typist trying to make sense of what Basil has to say. I nearly wet myself. And a visit to the man's completely incomprehensible website is required. Make sure you click the links to the letters he's written to the U.N. and Obama. You must admire the man for trying, at least. Gee... I wonder what Tennessee would be like under the Governance of Mr. Marceaux:



More, anon.
Prospero

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America! F**k Yeah!

This one is for Stephen in Portland, who posted the trailer to what is undoubtedly one of the most pain-inducingly funny movies ever made, as a secondary portion of his Fourth of July post about his husband's recent hand surgery (please visit his blog and wish Hubby well -- tell him Uncle P sent you). I saw this film with my college buddy Brian N.* and his lovely wife, Carol. Brian and I were doubled over in pain, laughing; while poor, sweet Carol spent the whole movie saying "Oh, dear! Oh, my!" which only served to make it funnier for both her husband and I. Honestly, the scene in the alley behind the bar nearly sent me to the hospital the first time I saw it.

If you've never seen Team America World Police, you may want to watch "South Park" on Comedy Central. If you like South Park, then you probably already know and love Team America. If you hate South Park (and I don't know anyone who does, other than my 75 year-old auntie, who hates everything but exceptionally crappy horror movies and "Ghost Hunters"), then I'd recommend you see something else.

Here's the trailer for Team America, which gives no real indication of the foul-mouthed; perverted; potty-humored; absurdly brilliant satire that Trey Parker and Matt Stone have crafted:

The story concerns Gary, an actor in the Broadway musical 'Lease,' where the big showstopping number is called "Everyone Has AIDS:"

Gary is recruited to go undercover for Team America, because of his amazing acting skills. And willingness to undergo painful facial reconstruction, only to end up looking like a 12 year-old's attempt at making a werewolf costume. We soon learn that Middle Eastern terrorists are actually being funded by the evil Kim Jong-Il (language NSFW):

The North Korean dictator is sent up in a much funnier Bond villain parody than Dr. Evil could ever be, especially when considering a deliriously silly scene involving adorable little house cats as giant panthers and another in which a baby shark tears away at a fish-filled Hans Blix puppet.

All kinds of insanity (and hilariously dirty puppet sex - both straight and gay) ensues, leading up to Gary doubting himself enough to get very, very drunk (NSFW and not for the squeamish, though effing hilarious!):

Thankfully, I've never seen a pond of vomit, in real life.

The insanely over-the-top jingoism of Team America (who fly in to stop terrorism, only to cause far more destruction in doing so), can best be summed up in the title of both tonight's post, and the movie's theme song (very NSFW):

No ethnic group, minority or celebrity is spared a skewering, which somehow makes all that skewering OK. Parker and Stone are equal opportunity offenders and since no one is safe, no one should feel threatened or discriminated against. Taking on everything from strange 60's Sci-Fi shows; Jame Bond; the French; Islamic terrorists and Broadway to left-wing celebrities; puppet porn; the NRA and Matt Damon, Team America World Police works so well on so many levels. Crude, rude but just so damned funny, TAWP is an absurd and nonsensical pleasure about which no one should feel guilty.

So tonight, as I watch the neighborhood fireworks through the window above my monitor with that certain amount of jingoism that seems infect all Americans this time of year, I am reminded that satire is protected under "Freedom of Speech" and I can't help but think that even with all our nation's flaws (and you do not need me to remind you of them), I still live in the Greatest Country in the World.

Happy Birthday America! **

More, anon.
Prospero

PS - That promised review of that new NBC show is coming... I just got such a tickle from revisiting this movie tonight, I had to share.

*Brian and I met doing theatre in college and have been jokingly competitive about our shared name, ever since. And bizarrely, even though she has met him on more than one occasion, K still insists that Brian doesn't actually exist.

**Talk about Bond villains!

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TV Review: "The Good Guys"

With Jack Bauer about to retire (from the small screen, at least), Fox has a Monday night slot to fill, and this summer they are testing out a new action comedy called "The Good Guys" starring Bradley Whitford (late of "The West Wing") and Colin Hanks (King Kong).

The concept revolves around Jack (Hanks), a by-the-book perfectionist, demoted to Routine Investigations after correcting the Police Chief's grammar ("There's no such thing as a 'Statue of Limitations'") and his partner Dan (Whitford), an alcoholic former supercop who can't let go of the past. Jack is up on all the latest technology, while Dan prefers to rely on instinct.

In the pilot, the partners literally stumble upon a case involving murder, drug money and a Peruvian drug lord. While investigating what appears to be a rather routine home invasion robbery (at guest star Nia Vardolos' home), the trail leads to an assassin ("Lost" alum Andrew Divoff) sent to retrieve a golf bag filled with four million dollars, stolen by a drug-runner presumed dead after plastic surgery gone very wrong. Jack wants to follow the leads using technology, with the help of his former girlfriend (Jenny Wade from "Reaper"), an assistant DA with a 73% conviction rate. Dan, wants to do the things the old-fashioned way, busting heads and chasing down leads on foot (or in a cherry vintage sports car he just has to have).

Borrowing heavily from the Tarrantino school of story-telling, the plot jumps back and forth in time, allowing us glimpses into things that happen outside our main characters' ken, while giving us insight into the characters' motivations. Jack and Dan report to their stock-character Latina boss (Diana-Maria Riva), who apparently hates both of them. Dan lives in the past and refers to computers as "computer machines" and repeatedly regales Jack with tales of his past glories (he only has his job because he saved the Governor's son from some as-yet unknown dilemma).

The performances in the pilot were fine. Whitford is terrific, making the most of a stock character and obviously having fun doing so. Hanks, while not blessed with his famous father's easy good looks, has a certain charm about him, and I bought his uptight, ambitious white guy routine. I was amused and entertained, but bothered by Dan's refusal to live in the present (even my 75 year-old auntie knows a computer is called a "computer"). There is potential here for this fun (if ridiculous) combination of "C.S.I.," "Law and Order" and "Starsky and Hutch." But while I truly enjoyed the pilot, I doubt it will go beyond its 8 episode summer season schedule. **1/2 (Two and a Half Stars out of Four).



Regular episodes of "The Good Guys" air Monday night at 9 PM Eastern on Fox, starting June 7th.

More, anon.
Prospero

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Music, Cartoons and a Much-Delayed Review

I really should have titled that in a different order, since I'm actually starting with the last item, first ("Oh, Uncle P, you're such a card!").

Anyway, while I finally was able to watch two episodes of Comedy Central's newest animated series "Ugly Americans," I had been putting off my official review for one reason or another. But I finally realized it's actually because I hate writing bad reviews. And I am sad to say that "Ugly Americans" is not very good, at all. That's not to say they don't try.

Set in an alternate reality version of New York City, "Ugly Americans" suffers most from trying to jam too many sub-genres together in one show. Mark works at the Bureau of Integration, trying to help various supernatural and extraterrestrial beings assimilate into life in Manhattan. He runs counseling sessions, job placement programs, etc., for beings other than human. His boss is literally from Hell (Daddy is the big S, himself), but that doesn't stop him from sleeping with her; his roommate, Randall, is a zombie (who turned for a fickle girl who only dated zombies, but had moved on to warlocks by the time he did); his co-worker is an alcoholic wizard and his clients are any number of beasties, monsters, aliens and robots in need of socialization.

Lord knows, I'm all for alternate realities; monsters; zombies; vampires; demons; aliens and robots. I'm just not sure how they all fit together. And, apparently, neither are the writers. One joke characters pop in and out with no rhyme or reason and the regular characters are simply tired cliches, stereotypes and been-there-done-that parodies. The first episode introduced us to the show's characters and the second dealt with a man accepting that he'd become a werewolf, while forgiving the werewolf that ate his arm, along with a "Meet the Parents from Hell" sub-plot. Neither episode was particularly funny (I may have chuckled a few times between them) and to be quite frank, I've seen better animation.

I suppose my biggest problem is with the show's central conceit. If this is an alternate reality where such beings are commonplace, then there would be no need for a Bureau of Integration. And if the Bureau exists because of a change in the status of "reality," then we need to why (or at least how) the status of reality changed. Yes, I know - "It's an animated comedy, fer cryin' out loud! Get over it!" I would, if the damned thing wasn't trying so hard. *1/2 (One and a Half Stars Out of Four).

It's a shame, because I really had high hopes for "Ugly Americans." And maybe it will get better with time, though I kind of doubt it. For now, I'll happily await the return of "Futurama."

And probably thanks to Sunday's Betty Boop cartoon, Q seems to be in a Max Fleischer kind of mood, because she posted the below video on Facebook today. Personally, I'm always in a Max Fleischer kind of mood, but that's just me. I am not familiar with The Real Tuesday Weld, but after hearing "The Day Before You Came," I intend to find out more about them and their music. It's an interesting song that fits amazingly well with the old Felix the Cat cartoon (even better than Dark Side of the Moon and The Wizard of Oz):

That sort of reminds me of this:



And finally, via Towleroad's Tuesday music roundup, comes this clever and just a little gay video from Diane Birch. "Valentino" is Bubblegum Pop Song fun, with a video that is sure to elicit a smile or two:

I think I may very well love this young woman. Or her art director.

More, anon.
Prospero

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Oscar, Schmoscar

Hey AMPAS - Young Frankenstein is NOT a Horror movie. Its a COMEDY. Granted (as my friend Jonathan pointed out), it wouldn't exist if it weren't for the genre, but still. Don't get me wrong, it's a brilliant movie - certainly one of Brooks' best and on my personal Top 10, but it is NOT a horror movie. And neither is Frank Oz's film of the musical Little Shop of Horrors. That's what we call a Musical Comedy. NOT a Horror movie. No wonder real film buffs have come to hate the Oscars and the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. They don't even know how to distinguish a Horror movie from a Comedy. Granted, there are Horror movies that are also Comedies: Dead Alive; Evil Dead II; Basket Case; Drag Me to Hell... But they are Horror movies first, and Comedies second. And was it me, or was Taylor Lautner actually prettier than Kristen Stuart (of course, it doesn't take much to be prettier than Kristen Stuart - ouch!)?

With a scheduled hour left in the broadcast (and Lord only knows how long it will actually drag on), I gave up on the Oscars, made my lunch for tomorrow and came in to write. Steve Martin stopped being truly funny at least 10 years ago and Alec Baldwin looks like he'd rather be anywhere else but the Kodak Theatre, tonight. I must admit to laughing when Steve slapped Alec in the Paranormal Activity parody, which seemed much more like another John Hughes tribute to Planes, Trains and Automobiles.

And was it me, or did Molly Ringwald look absolutely terrified during the tribute to the late John Hughes? And is it the dress, or does Miley Cyrus always have bad posture?

Having Neil Patrick Harris open the show was a cheap attempt to capitalize on his current popularity, though his signing on for The Smurfs Movie may very well damage that popularity beyond repair (unless of course, The Smurfs Movie is a brilliant parody, which I hope and pray it is).

Mo'Nique won. Surprise! (Though I must admit her emotional speech was one of the night's best.) And it looks like the overrated, over-blown Avatar may only win technical awards, which warms my heart to know end.

Of course, the inclusions of two Comedies in tonight's "Tribute to Horror Movies" wasn't what I found most offensive about it. Rather it was the exclusion of even one frame from what is the single scariest movie ever movie ever made: Robert Wise's amazingly effective 1963 film, The Haunting. Wise was smart enough to know that what we conjure in our own imaginations is far more frightening than anything a special effects guy can come up with. If you've never seen this absolutely terrifying film (featuring a truly amazing performance by Julie Harris), you're missing out. I dare you to watch it alone with all the lights off.

Minimal special effects, loads of atmosphere and skilled performances from a cast at the top of their game make the original version of The Haunting a truly scary picture. And if you're smart, you'll avoid Jan DeBont's ridiculous 1999 remake at all costs.

Oh wait - I have updates... Jeff Bridges just won Best Actor? Sandra Bullock won Best Actress? No! Really? Shocking! Excuse for me for not caring about things everyone already knew were going to happen. Give me streakers, bon mots and political activism over predictable and boring every time.

More, anon.
Prospero

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Whatever Happened to Screwball Comedies?

That's Cary Grant, Katherine Hepburn, May Robson and Skippy the dog in Howard Hawks' 1938 quintessential Screwball Comedy (and my personal favorite movie of all time) Bringing Up Baby.

"But Uncle Prospero, we thought you loved Horror movies." Of course I do, but that doesn't necessarily mean my favorite movie is a Horror movie. I love all kinds of movies. And just as high on my list are good old-fashioned Screwball Comedies. Fast-talking dialog, outrageously complicated plots and smart but ditsy heroines are just a few of the mainstays of the Screwball Comedy. Films like His Girl Friday; My Man Godfrey and The Awful Truth were staples of Depression-Era films and their brilliant hilarity holds up, even after 60 or 70 years.

I know I've talked about Bringing Up Baby before, but this wonderful essay by Mike D'Angelo over at A.V. Club (via) analyzes the above-pictured scene in particular and conveniently ties in with the films of a director I mentioned just a few posts ago, Peter Bogdanovich. Interestingly enough, Bogdanavich's first credited film as a director was a 1967 television documentary called The Great Professional: Howard Hawks. It wasn't until 1971's The Last Picture Show that he came into his own. Then in 1972 he made his own Hawks-inspired Screwball Comedy, What's Up, Doc? starring Barbra Streisand and a then very hot Ryan O'Neal.

What's Up, Doc? concerns a musicologist (O'Neal); his fiancee Eunice (the brilliant and sorely missed Madeline Kahn in her film debut); a wacky heiress/perpetual student (Streisand); identical plaid bags; International spies and a host of characters played by Kenneth Mars; Austin Pendleton; Sorrell Booke; Randy Quaid and Liam Dunn, among many others. Without getting too involved, a suitcase containing rocks with which O'Neal's character intends to prove a theory about ancient music is mixed up with an identical suitcase containing secret documents. Streisand serves as the wacky heiress here, while O'Neal plays the hapless intellectual whose life is turned upside down by a chance encounter with said wacko. Set in San Francisco (one of Uncle P's favorite U.S. cities), the film culminates in an outrageous car chase through the city's many winding and hilly streets.

If you aren't panting over O'Neal in that scene, you're a straight man, a lesbian or blind. And the ripping of his pajama pants? Right out of Bringing Up Baby, thank you.

Streisand would again attempt the Screwball Comedy in the inferior, but still amusing 1974 farce For Pete's Sake. But without Bogdanovich at the helm (Peter Yates directed), it just didn't have the same impact.

After What's Up Doc? Bogdanovcih directed Paper Moon, again starring O'Neal, Kahn and O'Neal's then 10 year-old daughter, Tatum. Set against the Great Depression, Paper Moon is the story of conman Moses Pray (O'Neal) and Addie Loggins, a girl who may or may not be his daughter. Kahn is the temptress who may well come between them.

How sad to see talents like Ryan and Tatum O'Neal reduced to drug-addled tabloid fodder. And sadder still that the fast-talking, wise-cracking, smarter-than-they-let-on characters of the classic Screwball Comedy are things of the past. Hopefully, a screenwriter more talented than Yours Truly and a director whose talents match Hawks' and Bogdanovich's will come along and revive one of cinema's most beloved genres. Of course, I tried my own hand at a Screwball Comedy with a screenplay called Comatose Joe, which you can read here, should you be so inclined.

As for myself, I'd rather see a Howard Hawks or Leo McCarey comedy than anything Jud Apatow or Kevin Smith made in the last ten years or so. I guess I'm just an old-fashioned kind of guy, that way.

More, anon.
Prospero

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Tim Minchin vs. Harry Potter and the Blog of Destiny

Sorry about that silly title. Okay, no I'm not. You know I loves me some nonsense. As proof, below is an actual line of dialog I wrote for a custom murder mystery (something I did briefly in the 90's to try and make an extra buck and fund my regular theatre company). The character was a diabetic who had been poisoned with sugar and became incoherent just before her death.

Her final words -- I'm almost ashamed to admit (but not ashamed enough to not post them) -- were:



"There's a great mammal on the gramophone this dictatorship! Let's all go to Venezuela and smell it!"



Those of my friends who read this (and my sister)* who took part in those custom shows, are either the most wonderful and amazing and trusting and insane friends or members of a mind-control cult led by yours truly. In this same production, which was a Hollywood spoof called "Whatever Happened to Mr. Ed?" I had two sisters named Hedy Lamour and Dorothy Lamarr. Dorothy was a paraplegic and Hedy her sadistic care-giver. We actually convinced the kitchen staff to serve a rubber rat under a tray -- which they promptly and hilariously trumped by pouring gravy over it!). It was also the first of only two times I've done drag - my character died and then his "Identical Twin Sister" showed up. So scary... And so much for my early writing career...



*Who will laugh and not be offended by that link - she knows I don't actually think of her in that way (and she is still the only person who always gets me).



Anyway... I visit about a dozen or more websites and blogs daily, and maybe another 8 or 10 that I visit weekly. Most of the sites I visit offer links to all kinds of weird, wild, wacky and wonderful things (and who doesn't love a healthy dose of comedic alliteration? W's and K's are always funny) and I often get ideas for Caliban's Revenge from them. Anyway, when I'm really desperate, I visit YouTube, FunnyorDie and Hulu. Occasionally, they provide with little gems that can inspire some ramblings.



Tonight, because I had posted a few of clips previously, YouTube suggested that I view another one. So I did. And here it is (language NSFW):

I love the abso-friggin-lutely off his rocker mad look in Tim's eyes in that video. It sort of reminds me Terry Jones at the organ on Python.

Then, linked to that video was this clip which almost made me wet myself laughing:

Personally, I don't get the Harry Potter thing. I read the first book on a flight from Philadelphia** to Tampa and still had time to take a nap. I thought Rowling was an "Okay" writer who liked having fun with words, but I'd much rather read King, Straub, McCammon, Barker or Gaiman for my doses of Fantasy. Though more than one of my dear friends are avid Potter fans, my reaction is "meh." My interest was only piqued when Rowling made this shocking announcement:

While not enough to warrant it's own "The Gayest Thing" post (if only because it's old news), it's gay enough to be included on this blog.

So, what does any of that have to do with each other? No farging clue, my dears. Stream of Consciousness is often a very scary (or at least, moderately disturbing) thing. Damn you, James Joyce!

And my motto, of course: "A little nonsense now and then / Is cherished by the wisest men." I hope the rest of your holiday weekend is is silly, safe and satisfying (there goes that damned alliteration again!).

**That link is especially for D.

More nonsense, anon.

Prospero

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Why Have I Not Seen Him Before?

Warning - this post would probably be rated "R" by MPAA for language.

This is British comic musician Tim Minchin. Raunchy, clever and downright hysterical, Tim writes and performs hilarious songs that many would consider risque. Obviously classically trained, he is a clever lyricist and brilliant pianist.

I just discovered him after Jonco over at Bits&Pieces posted a video clip from an appearance on the Graham Norton Show. Norton is an hilarious, openly gay and rather naughty Irishman with his own chat show on the BBC. He's not above placing speakers and cameras in public toilets as pranks and often manages to have major celebs like Dustin Hoffman and Cher take part in his impish shenanigans. If you've never seen it, I suggest you check his show out on BBC America.

The first clip below is the first one I saw of Minchin in performance, and it made me laugh so hard, I had to seek out others.

Not for the prudish or easily offended, Minchin's songs make fun of everything from weird sex to racism and movies. In fact, while searching for clips of his work, I realized that his excellent cover of Tears for Fears' "Mad World" was used in one of my favorite modern films, Donnie Darko, the film in which I first fell in love with Jake Gyllenhaal.

Enjoy these clips of Minchin in performance (some of which may be NSFW).

First, "Inflatable You," the clip that made me love Minchin:

And then "If You Really Loved Me," a song about... well... golden showers:

Next, a parody synopsis of Donnie Darko:

And the music video for Minchin's beautiful and haunting Donnie Darko cover of "Mad World:"

And finally, a favorite silly song, from which Minchin must have taken inspiration:

You can be assured that I will be on the lookout for more from this talented and hilarious performer.

More, anon.

Prospero

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That's a Title?

Before I say anything tonight, I'd like to thank the lovely and talented Stephen Rader (you know who he is, 'Raderettes') for the shout-out on his ferociously fabulous blog Are You There, Blog? It's Me, Stephen. He and I both know that when we finally meet face-to-face (and we will - oh, we will), the Theatre - nay, perhaps Western Civilization itself, will never be the same.

Anyway, I wanted to post about this movie the other day, but that was when my Internet was wonky and I lost a post. So, here it is now.

Gentlemen Broncos, is the latest from Napoleon Dynamite director Jared Hess and his co-writer brother, Joshua. Michael Angarano (probably best known as Jack's son on "Will and Grace") plays a high-schooler who worships Science Fiction author, Ronald Chevalier (Half of the duo responsible for "Flight of the Conchords," Jermaine Clement). When a blocked Chevalier steals the lad's novel (changing the names only slightly and turning the hero into a gay stereotype), trouble ensues.

What I think I love most about this movie is the cast. The always-hilarious-no-matter-what-she's-in Jennifer Coolidge (Best In Show; American Pie) had me sold, before seeing Moon's Sam Rockwell riding a flying reindeer rigged with outboard missiles made it a "Must See". How insanely fun does this movie look? Enjoy:

Honestly, is it me or does that just look bizarre and hilarious or not? I can't wait for this one, either.

More, anon.
Prospero

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