ANDY RICHTER RE-TEAMS WITH CONAN IN LA FOR TONIGHT SHOW

Yay! That is all.

Mickey Rourke Makes Acceptance Speech History

Mickey Rourke set new highs and lows for outlandish acceptance speeches Saturday afternoon after receiving a Best Actor award for his performance in "The Wrestler".

One of the first things to come out of the star's mouth was his declaration that "Eric Roberts is the fucking man!". From here, it only got stranger and funnier. He thanked everyone from Melissa Tomei (later correcting himself to have meant to say Marissa) to a girl that he only referred to as "gap tooth". He thanked his publicist for always telling him "who to fuck and who not to fuck", he thanked his dead dogs. He mentioned how great it was to be given this award by three such talented people, meaning presenters Laura Dern and Phillip Seymour Hoffman. When he realized that the third person was just a stage usher, he quickly amended that statement to "just two talented people. I don't know what you do, honey." Other topics included sodomy, steroids and being told to "fuck off" by the Santa Monica Police Department amongst other absurdities. All of this came after he smooched Darren Aronofsky, the director of "The Wrestler", immediately following the announcement that he had won. It was abundantly clear that it was unscripted and even more obvious that Aronofsky did not approve. No telling if this plum crazy performance will affect any of the goodwill that Rourke has been able to establish in the last few months or so, but unfortunately Rourke did not get to make a follow-up performance at the Oscars, losing to the always nominated Sean Penn. Rourke went away for a long time before his recent success, up until now it could have been assumed that he spent his time out of the Hollywood spotlight on Earth. Now, no one can really be sure that he didn't spin off into outer space and other galaxies for a decade or so.

FROM THE PLEASE DON'T LET THIS BE TRUE DEPARTMENT: Limp Bizkit Returns

When one door closes, another one opens and through this door walks a talentless fuckface in a backwards red baseball hat with an inexplicable amount of former success and riches. Ozzfest will be on hiatus this summer, prompting Fred Durst to announce that Limp Bizkit will be reuniting to solidify their position as Kings of Douchebaggery as they travel the United States. Tapping into the previously ignored white trash angst audience, Durst and company were able to have a meteoric rise to fame based on the strength of a (that's right) George Michael cover. From there they soared to the top of the charts and inspired an army of useless jackasses in red hats to jump and scream their assheaded lyrics all over the country. After failed follow-up albums and a plethora of dismal side projects by everyone in the band, the need for fame and money has forced their world back together. Nevermind, scratch that, these are the turdwads that do it all for the nookie. Ugh!

In much more exciting news, Joss Whedon and Eliza Dushku make their return to television tonight with the premiere of "Dollhouse". This should bring happiness to the heart of anyone who was ever a fan of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer", "Bring it On" or masturbating. The world just seems like a better place with her on television.

NBC Needs More Medical Drama...STAT!

While "ER" (yup, still on the air) enters the final weeks of the show's seemingly endless run of drama, inter-doctor romances and primetime exposed intestines, the peacock hasn't even waited for the show's remains to grow cold by quickly filling their medical drama void with "Trauma". They may have missed the boat with this decision, when the ebb and flow of primetime drama has clearly shifted from medical/hospital based dramas to crime scene investigation dramas. Either way, both genres fill the need of the American TV audience; sexy co-stars falling for each other while working in close proximity with corpses. Also in development at NBC is a swing-for-the-fences existential drama that places dozens of strangers on an island after their plane crashes only to find out that they are part of a large human experiment that may actually be purgatory or something else. Yeah, like that bullshit will ever gain momentum.

Disney's Net Income Falls 32%

The lingering economic downturn was bound to take its toll on the entertainment and media industry at some point and today news arrived that Disney's net income has dropped 32%. The loss has sent Mickey into a drug fueled crime spree that threatens to ruin the family friendly reputation that the empire has managed to build over the last 100 years. Time Warner is reporting a $16B loss, but there's no telling of a like downfall for Ted Turner. Somewhere Jane Fonda is laughing, just not at "Georgia Rule".

Bruce Springsteen's Crotch Invades America's Collective Living Room

"Step away from the guacamole and put those chicken fingers down!"

yelped Bruce Springsteen during Sunday's Super Bowl Halftime Show. Anyone who adhered to those directions was promptly given a generous helping of Bruce Springsteen's loins. About halfway through his performance, he eyes a stage level camera from across the stage and slide directly into it...cock first, sending DVR devices into wild repeat all across the country. The creepiest part about The Boss' stunt was the look of boyish exuberance he had on his face after executing the crotch slide. It was almost as if he had a premediated idea to shove his package right into America's conscience and history. "Dear America, these are my balls and penis!"

Righteous Kill

Twenty years ago the mention of Robert De Niro and Al Pacino appearing in a movie together as long time NYPD partners would circulate an enormous amount of buzz and (with full heavy-handed pun intended) “heat”. In present times not much can be expected of the duo, whose best years are clearly behind them. Rumors circulate that De Niro only still acts because he has huge back end profit sharing deals that are allowing him to grow his beloved Tribeca Film Festival to a size that rivals the Sundance/Cannes/Toronto circuit. Pacino may not have an excuse, but neither of these declining stars should be excused for their appearance in John Avnet’s latest by-the-numbers buddy cop drama thriller. When you think of all the buddy cop movie clichés that were popularized in the late 80’s and early 90’s, there was a strict dynamic between Detective X and Detective Y. Here, BOTH partners play the maverick cop who plays by his own rules. There is no foil. Their relationship is all Riggs and no Murtaugh. Do they BOTH pay alimony? Are they BOTH widowers? Are they BOTH recovering/suffering from alcoholism? Is the chief sick of defending BOTH of their rogue ways to the suits downtown? Are they BOTH getting demoted to traffic patrol?

There is a serial killer/vigilante on a spree throughout NYC and longtime partners Turk and Rooster (De Niro and Pacino) are quickly assigned to the case. It is exciting to see both men sharing screen time in many of the opening scenes, but the hammy dialogue quickly erases any iconic value that this may have. As an example, Pacino says something along the lines of, “Don’t you believe in miracles?” To which De Niro replies, “Maybe if you pick up a check, that would be a miracle.” Zing! As the bodies pile up, two other detectives (John Leguizamo and Donny Wahlberg) link a body in their jurisdiction to the same killer that Turk and Rooster have been investigating. The link to all the cases are ridiculous pieces of poetic verse that the killer is leaving behind to let the whole world know that justice has failed the victims of the people he/she has been dispensing with. A skateboarding pimp, a pedophiliac priest, a child killer, a rapist and various other baddies are left with derivations of “roses are red, violets are blue” on their carcasses to justify their deaths. Leguizamo soon begins to believe that the killer is probably someone with a badge and the turmoil within the department is clearly exposed. This leads to an absolutely awful scene between De Niro and Leguizamo who argue about the legitimacy of accusing a cop. Leguizamo: “It’s a cop, it’s a cop, it’s a cop, it’s a cop.” De Niro: “How can you say it’s a cop, it’s a cop, it’s a cop, it’s a cop?” (mocking Leguizamo’s voice and inflection). Pacino just stands in the background with his fingers crossed hoping that his skin can stay stapled on long enough for the director to yell cut. Awful. It turns out that Turk and Rooster have had some sort of tie to all the victims in their past and De Niro quickly becomes the main suspect. The drama fails to build throughout the rest of Act II and it fails to pick up any momentum on the way to the finish line. There are very few techniques used to instill further drama as the film nears its climax. There is an attempt to build some mystery as to who the killer is by using the camera from a first person perspective, but it really only adds to the overall ridiculous structure of the movie. Throughout the film characters are addressed by their first names and nicknames, but now when characters are looking into the camera, addressing the killer, they only address the camera as “Detective”. Brian Dennehy also joins the cast as the Chief, in perfect buddy cop movie cliché form, who is sick of scolding them for their screwball antics and hands out suspensions accordingly. At this point in the movie the audience has to begin to wonder, why haven’t these lawmen fucking retired already? De Niro/Pacino/Dennehy (aged 66, 69, 71) are all eligible to be collecting social security and making healthy contributions to AARP. Why are they still working in a police department? Go sit in an above ground pool in some Long Island suburb. Stop running over catchers at inter-precinct softball games and smell the roses. Where are your gold watches and grandchildren? At this point, who cares?

The premise of this movie is pretty clear. Put Robert De Niro and Al Pacino onscreen together and people will pay to see that. The movie made money, thus making it a success, right? There was obviously no other goal here at all. The film comes to an obvious conclusion, but won’t spoil that for anyone who still hasn’t given up on these two. American moviegoers everywhere should quietly mourn the relevance of these once cherished actors, but they both insist upon tarnishing their legacies. The film isn’t awful because it’s being compared to “The Godfather” and “Taxi Driver”, it’s awful because it’s awful. Bob Dylan still makes great music, Bruce Springsteen can still tear a stadium apart with his live performances, Al Pacino did star in “The Insider”. However, for this film, it would be best to paraphrase Danny Glover from the quintessential buddy cop movie, De Niro and Pacino are waaaaaaay “too old for this shit”.

*1/2

Highlights

Rob Durdek (of "Rob n’ Big" fame) plays a skateboarding pimp whose only job is to get shot in the head and yet he still proves incompetent at being able to do that.

De Niro, 66, runs over John Leguizamo in a softball game while Pacino cheers him on like his girlfriend. Awesome.

Carla Gugino’s boobs. Always.

Michael Jackson's "Thriller" Coming to Broadway

Down but not out Michael Jackson has announced plans to bring a "Thriller" musical to Broadway in the next few years. The plot will be loosely based on his ambitious video of the same name that was helmed by Jonathan Landis at a time when Michael Jackson ruled the world. You may remember the story, boy meets girl, girl likes boy, they fall in love, but boy has one huge secret, then the story unfolds amidst hundreds of the walking undead. May make for some pretty lofty entertainment, but not enough to make anyone forget that he enjoys fucking children.

Nation Quickly Distracts Itself with “Lost” Premiere (Spoilers Everywhere)

Credit crunch, job loss, bailouts, debt, etc., no matter “Lost” is back. Taking place only hours after the Inauguration (the do-over), the PREMIERE EVENT of "Lost" comes in perfect time to distract America from a life of intellect and substance. The NFL, the country's main wool-pulling mechanism, is going to be gone in ten days and most of the country's teams haven't been relevant in weeks. A nation turns it’s lonely eyes to you; Dharma Initiative and smoke monsters. Jack on pills, Kate back on the run, Sayid, who if conscious, seems to kill anyone, forgettable characters old and new, and inevitably, at some point, the aforementioned mother fucking smoke monsters! The two-hour premiere leaves the audience in a pretty typical wake of “what the fuck is going on?”. The episode offered no clarity, gave no clues and no real answers to anything that they may have wanted explained. In short, it was business as usual for the show that keeps giving its viewers the old “carrot on a string” routine. For whatever fucking reason, I’ll watch next week.

Extras on this season of “Lost” better watch the fuck out if the season goes anything like the premiere. Whether catching flaming arrows and John Locke’s knife with their chests or falling victim to a poorly loaded dishwasher (knives loaded blade up, what the fuck?), extras will be treated expendably with extreme prejudice. If you’re an actor out there who thinks he just caught his big break by being cast on an episode of “Lost”, you have to accept the reality that you may be landing the role of “Flaming Corpse 3”, or maybe if you’re lucky “Hostile Knife Victim 2”.

Take for instance the extra that Sayid throws off the balcony at the motel. Here’s how he told his parents the exciting news about being on “Lost”:

Extra: (with bushytailed excitement) “Hi, Mom and Dad, great news I got a part on ‘Lost’”.

Mom/Dad: “Congratulations, we love that show, we all knew those years of waiting tables and acting classes would finally pay off. We love you!”

Extra: (growing excitement) “Yeah, me too. I can’t wait to be on TV, working at that dinner theater was crushing my soul. I’m so glad to be starting a REAL career. I trained with Stanislavsky you know.”

Mom/Dad: (still excited) “Yeah, we know, we paid for it, we’d have preferred you go to college, but you’re a unique snowflake. What part are you going to play?”

Extra: (still excited) “I don’t have a name, but some middle-eastern guy throws me from a balcony and my head explodes like a grape on the asphalt in the parking lot.”

Mom/Dad: (completely stripped of all excitement) “Oh. Okay. Should we send you a check for the usual amount?”

Extra: “Yes, please.”

Inauguration Causes Momentary Sundancin’ Restraint

Celebrities, studio executives, entertainment media and thousands of hangers-on took time out of their film festival/partying/spa treatment/deal-making schedules to give attention to Barack Obama’s overwhelmingly attended Inauguration. The President’s official entry to the White House halted the usual fanfare at the yearly festival in Park City, Utah for roughly two hours on Tuesday afternoon. It's always nice to see the stars that we adore sacrifice a couple of hours that could have been used to take time being photographed in the snow wearing gawdy, furry shit. Celebrate away. Doubtful that the rest of Utah cheered Obama in kind.

In other news, Ted Kennedy’s celebration ended in typical fashion, with someone making a trip to the hospital. Unfortunately, it was the much beloved Massachusetts Senator. Years of tailgating for the State of the Union (and everything else) seem to have finally caught up with the last of the iconic political family. Don’t go getting any ideas Chelsea. Seriously, don’t.

Joaquin Phoenix Kisses Career Bye!Good

River Phoenix's brother continues his voyage down the road that is littered with movie stars turned failed musicians. The makeup of his band includes an all-star cast with Dennis Quaid (lead guitar,) Russell Crowe (rhythm gutar and vocals), Keanu Reeves (bass and will sing all "alrights", "babys" and "woahs"), and Jim Belushi and John Goodman (backup vocals). However, the true star of the ensemble will be Bruce Willis and his rebellious brand of rock harmonica. Add Phoenix's rap to this pot and the results will be sure to excite. At different points on the tour they'll be joined on stage by Scarlett Johansson, who will bang on a tambourine and add her early morning rusty voice man yell to the backing vocals. Coming soon to a state fair/swap meet near you.

Tom Cruise apparently "always wanted to kill Hitler"

While promotoing "Valkyrie" in South Korea this week, Tom Cruise let the public know that he had always harbored desires to kill Hitler ever since childhood. It's not a terrible thing to have said, but when considering the source, it is. PR success has escaped the international star for close to five years running at this point and he still seems like a runaway train. Sure a real beloved blockbuster would probably absolve him of all guilt, but the likelihood of that happening is quickly evaporating. On the other hand, his PR situation is not as bad as it should be considering his bullying of a depressed mother, morning TV show host, Oprah's couch and Katie Holmes' frontal lobe.

This childhood dream of killing Hitler does break a traditional American mold of suburban boyhood aspirations. Every kid in his neighborhood may have chased the ice cream man and played stickball, but Cruise wanted more. He wanted to put an end to the Furor's reign of terror. Noble it may have been, but when it comes from the mouth of a celebrity that is clearly going batshit crazy, a subtext of lunacy must be mentioned. He must have been disappointed when he found out that Hitler had killed himself long before he got a crack at him. You'd think that a pilot, a racecar driver or a sports agent would have been the rolls that fulfilled his boyhood dreams. Instead, a lifelong desire was fulfilled when he threw on an eyepatch, faked a German accent and conceived a plot to kill Hitler.

In "The Devil's Advocate", Al Pacino, in full "hoo-waaaah" form, takes Keanu Reeves to a boxing match. The rapidly declining icon shakes hands with both Don King and Senator Al D'Amato (R-NY), essentially spelling out for the audience that those two individuals are in cahoots with Satan. Do you think that this was because:

a) both men are too dumb to realize the context of their appearance in the movie

or

b) they were well aware of the context and are just two whores that know getting on camera is always good

?

Yours to chew on.

SCORING SYSTEM

*****= Legendary Excellence (i.e. The Godfather I and II, There Will Be Blood, Rushmore, The White Album, The Wire)
****= Extremely Good
***=Good, but what was expected
**=Average and maybe even less so
*=worthless and awful (i.e. Ben Affleck's body of work, with the exception of "The Aaron Henry Story". Shit is hilarious.)
zero= so awful and worthless that it kind of gains value (i.e. The Wicker Man)

BIGGER, STRONGER, FASTER

The era we live in can be defined by a number of things. Excess, inflation, war and detached leadership headline a growing list of what ails our generation. We represent a wrinkle in time that breaks traditions, mores and conventions that once seemed so sacred. Chris Bell’s documentary chooses to define contemporary America as one obsessed with breaking high water marks no matter the cost. Bell, a bodybuilder, begins with laying out the heroes that he idolized in his youth. Arnold Schwarzenegger, Sly Stallone and Hulk Hogan. These icons convinced him and his brothers that through hard work ANYTHING was possible. “Anything” is highlighted because they applied that motivation to, well, nothing really, except lifting weights and bodybuilding and a perpetual failed attempt at a career in the field of pro wrestling. When Bell finds out that his heroes have been taking steroids and cheating, he became completely deflated (emotionally) and set out to uncover America’s obsession with being better than the competition.

His own two brothers, one a professional bodybuilder, the other, the aforementioned failed pro wrestler, are both longtime steroid users. The film starts there but soon snowballs into a nationwide blitz of questioning that lets us know that Bell is not some gym rat idiot. The obsession with cheating to beat your opponent is applied to almost every phase of life in America. Air Force pilots taking amphetamines “go pills” in combat, musicians taking beta blockers to circumvent performance anxiety while on stage, high school and college kids taking adderall to help concentrate in class, America is painted as a nation of cheaters and rightfully so. From Barry Bonds, who would not give Bell an interview, to the father of a Plano, TX teen who committed suicide, no stone is left unturned in the controversy on steroids. Later in the film, Bell confronts his own brothers and their own parents on the familial steroid abuse. It provides for the ultimate in heartbreak that borders exploitation. The documentary strays at times from its core principle when interviewing a man with AIDS that credits steroids with saving his life via red cell fluctuation, but maintains an interesting perspective. What is truly unbelievable is the amount of people that are emphatically pro-steroids. You thought girls had body issues. JEEEESUS!

Yes, we are a nation of want and greed. Yes, many people will apply an “at all costs” philosophy to their bodies and careers. Yes, we will lie about it. The topic is not new, but much broader than anyone might have imagined it. America may be the best country in the world, but that does not mean it got there playing by the rules.

***1/2

HIGHLIGHTS



Senator Henry Waxman, who spearheaded Congress’ war on Major League baseball, saying on camera that he thought the legal drinking age was 18. Priceless.



Bell hires three Mexican workers off the street in California and produces his own “supplement” that could be sold at GNC.



Finally getting to confront his former hero, Arnold Schwarzenegger (who also declined interview), and the result of their interaction is laugh out loud funny.

MISSION STATEMENT

Discuss pop culture that does not coincide with the endless generic mill of lowbrow slop for idiots.  Conversely, a forum to criticize the heap that does.