Archive for the 'TV' Category



17
Feb
09

Drag Queen of the Damned

Akashia    
What, me work?
[www.rupaulsdragrace.com]

Poor Akashia just cannot catch a break! And for once, I feel sorry for her.

Her exit interview segment is incredible. She opens like a flower and spills out a shower of jaw-dropping humility: “Shannel deserved to win…” “I had so much fun, and I’m so happy to be here, and I’m so happy for the other girls…” It goes on and on.

“I have not cried in, like, four years,” she wails. Honey, maybe there’s something to that.

I think she’s relieved. All that pressure to out-bitch everyone else. They’re not crocodile tears. Now she can be a real girl.

We started out a little weak in this episode. Jade took the Oprah challenge way too literally, all but smearing a burned cork on her face and putting on a minstrel show.

And then Shannel proclaims herself expert of all things Winfrey. “There’s no challenge for me here,” she says. No challenge? Oh, you know that’s the first sign there’s a problem. The moment you get that comfy, you’re in deep enough to drown. I’m noticing that the ones who are convinced that they’ve won don’t typically do so well.

I’m still a little disgusted that not a single one of them could pronounce “Ahmadinejad.” OK, it’s a hard word at first sight. But it’s not very Oprah-like to blurt out in its place any old random combination of letters, is it? At least be a sport and sound it out. It’s the vocal equivalent of pounding out the middle row of keys: “sdjfjsdkafajkdsfjkasdfhkasdf”

Then it gets a little better. Nina Flowers with a blow dryer: priceless. And Ongina’s Connie Chung crack exposed enough white guilt in me to make me laugh out loud. (There’s a little bit more of her in the video extras online. Worth watching.)

Unfortunately, I have zero interest in seeing Tori Spelling and her hubby interviewed. I would rather have seen her as a judge. Instead, this insertion came off as poorly executed cross-promotion. Dean does get one point, though, for painting his toe nails and trying on a pair of heels.

Akashia was the predictable diva bitch on the floor. No grace at all. On the opposite end, was fur-festooned PETA nightmare, Nina Flowers. Her language barrier worked against her at first, but her playfulness won me over. Of all the contestants who screwed up her lines, she was the best at admitting it and moving on.

Shannel — what a talker, again. She was interviewing herself. She says she was being sincere and true. Yes, but sincerely and truly a self-indulgent bore.

It seemed poetic that she should be covered in snakes in her runway session. She is so slick and untouchable, poised and still, and very sharp and dangerous. Total Las Vegas surface. Meanwhile, pixie-like Ongina was a cutie pie in baby-doll chic. Some girls need the big hair, but I love how good this one looks bald.

Rebecca Glasscock is g-g-gorgeous, statuesque and classy, but I still feel like she is holding something back. She is so safe. She doesn’t fail the challenge enough to get cut, and she doesn’t succeed in the challenge enough to win. How long can she hold out?

Jade makes me feel the same way. In her swaying, flossy nightie, she was a little too Eva Longoria-meets-Joan Crawford accepting the Oscar at home. It was an odd shape for her body. And that enormous belly-button bauble — a huge distraction. I love the wink, though, when Ru says she can stay.

Bebe Zahara Benet pulled out some Lion King on us again. God help me, but I still love it. She deserved to win. I bless the rains down in Africa, because we are on fire up in here!

When Nina walked out, Ru totally nailed it: Madonna at 50. It’s the first thing I thought. (Are you there, Madonna? It’s me, Nina.) She has proven herself to be more versatile than I would have expected. In the “Under the Hood” segment, after the girls make fun of themselves for about 10 minutes, Nina walks in.

Loca! (my new favorite catch phrase of the show)

She rips off her wig, looking for all the world like Uncle Fester just stepped away from the M.A.C counter at Macy’s, and blows the roof off the place. I think her linguistic challenge has made her into an excellent improviser. She is always Nina — but show Nina is is constantly unfolding in ways that I think surprise her as well as us.

And then Akashia. I’m mad she fell, mainly because there were already enough reasons to cut her. To add that shame makes the whole thing sadder somehow; she’s almost less deserving of the hook.

The whole time during the runway show, I was wishing we had Tammie Brown back! That would have been her strength. And I can see her wackiness shining through in the interviews. What a loss we suffered in episode two! Shannel rightly gives Tammie props at the top of the episode. (Shannel may be a loquacious know-it-all, but she is also very graceful.)

So, it came down to now standard baseline-setting Akashia and a clearly shocked Shannel. And what an amazing Lipsynch For Your Life it was! First of all, how incongruous for that big-tittied medusa to be singing “I believe the children are our future.” Girl, she believes the children are our lunch. And I never thought I would see a white girl from Vegas — even with a headdress — out synch the Queen of the Damned with a Whitney Houston standard. But she was on it. And when it all fell apart, how inspired — to tear off that drag. Just keep going. Peel off the layers, dig down with those press-on nails, and find the greatest love — something human and vulnerable, inside of me.

Both girls fell and both girls dusted themselves off and got back up and gave us everything we needed — and made the final decision as tough as it should be.

“This is not then last you’ll see of me,” says Akashia, peeling off her bumps later in the green room. I desperately hope not.

12
Feb
09

New Eddie, New Patsy

Variety has announced that the American version of Absolutely Fabulous has cast its Eddie and Patsy.

Kathryn Hahn, from Revolutionary Road, will play Eddie, and 3rd Rock From the Sun‘s Kristen Johnston will play Patsy. (I was sort of hoping they’d get Jennifer Coolidge in there somewhere! Alas…)

I recognize Hahn, but I don’t know from where. I remember liking her, though. (Unless I’m thinking of Ana Gasteyer.) And I think Johnston could be a passable Patsy-esque character. But this show still worries me.

There is little in this world that delights me as much as watching the original three seasons, but it’s a classic. I love it now because I loved it then. I think AbFab’s time has come and gone. Even Jennifer Saunders should not keep it going in its original incarnation. Whatever gets produced here will have to be unrecognizably different from the original, and then what’s the point of doing it in the first place?

The characters of Patsy and Eddie relied on their memories of the free-wheeling ’60s and ’70s and the outdated vices and fashion sense they brought with them into the ’90s. New-Eddie is old enough to have a 15- or 16-year-old daughter, but only just. What will new-Eddie’s vice be? Too much Pac-Man? And Patsy’s? (Well, that could still be anything.)

Two things give me hope:

1. Jennifer Saunders and Joanna Lumley are not playing the lead roles (though I don’t trust them not to make a cameo at some point).
2. Jennifer Saunders is staying on as a producer. I don’t know how involved she’ll be in writing, but maybe some of her wit and charm will rub off.

Fingers crossed…

11
Feb
09

I Heart Justin Long

I probably won’t see the movie He’s Just Not That Into You, whether or not it’s a chick flick, but I sure am into this cute little promo video for all the straight guys out there with girlfriends who do want to see it.

Ahh… How could I ever get a PC?

11
Feb
09

Sweet Low Down Tammie Brown

Episode 2 has convinced me that RuPaul’s Drag Race is one of the best shows on TV. It is not only fun and at times educational, but also surprisingly heartwarming, and ironically, very real. These guys are a few sequins and a couple of falsies away from being Barbie dolls, but they really are putting some realness back into reality TV.

OK, lame. I know that was a line from the show’s promotional campaign, but I’m seeing now why it’s also true.

Tammie Brown with an 'IE'    
“See you later, in the magazines. Wah wah wah wah.”
[www.myspace.com]

One of the benefits of watching the show online is all the extra revealing goodies to be found there. Among my favorites are the “Under the Hood,” segments shot in the green room, just the girls talking among themselves, revealing insecurities, critiquing themselves and each other — and also building each other up. (Maybe the best part of these clips is the intro and outro with the RuPaul Barbie doll, voiced by none other than Miss Ru herself!)

These guys reveal over and over what integrity they have as performers. Each one in his own way wants truly to elevate the art of drag and raise his own level of performance. (Well, all but one, so far. Akashia seems simply to want to show off and wow the judges, but doesn’t seem to think she has anything to learn.) These are not second-rate gender fuckers. These ladies are practitioners of an art form — and drag, when it’s done well, is really a nexis of several disciplines.

One of the best parts of Episode 2 was the way it allowed each of the guys to play to a strength, and it gave everyone an opportunity to learn something from one of his competitors — and, honey, every one of these guys has something to learn. It also demonstrated that the contestants who respect their peers are the ones who will succeed.

The eliminations are also very revealing. Rebecca Glasscock is one smart competitor, but by no means is she a cut-throat. Asked who she would eliminate if forced to choose, she pointed to the one she saw as her strongest competition, Shannel. In a back-handed way, it is the ultimate compliment. But she also clearly had a hard time throwing her teammate under the bus. And Shannel can certainly understand her sentiments.

Shannel, for her part, stepped beyond graciousness and called out Ongina as a brilliant team leader. These are the little gems, the little rewards, scattered throughout this show, like the size 20 rhinestones in Shannel’s make-up kit. It seriously makes me cry a little.

Shannel is smart and interesting and undeniably talented. Clearly she has put a lot of thought into her work and the philosophy of drag. But lord in heaven, she is like an earnest, wordy, overzealous honors college student at Drag U. Sometimes I just want her to shut up and apply some eye shadow or something.

Ongina, the talented captain, said she would have gone down with the ship. Nina admitted to being the weakest link and would have graciously stepped down if not for her immunity. There is real honesty here, real class and humility.

And then there is the other, uglier side of things.

I agree with 77% of the TV audience and said Akashia should have gone. This is strictly on the basis of her being such an awful team leader. Fierceness is more than an act; you have to back it up with talent, or you’re going to be found out. She was in charge of makeup in her group, but her own makeup was probably the worst on that stage. And even as the resident bitch, she is just a bore. In this week’s “Under the Hood,” Tammie is talking about positive energy, and raising up her hands with her fellow queens and swaying in unison. It;s a little Kum-Ba-Yah, a little hokey, but Akashia is sitting there insolently giving everyone the finger, and it is so not classy.

That said, I’m glad Akashia was able to redeem herself at the end, leaning pretty hard, in my opinion, on that time-honored fall-back, the lip synch.

No denying it: She brought it. Michelle Williams cried, feeling touched and rewarded by Akashia’s grasp of the lyrics. And in the end we see that, for all her theatrics and all her cuntiness, Akashia still cares about the judges’ opinions. She radiated after her life-saving lip synch and showed that she is not made of stone. We all want to succeed. And maybe now that she has come so close again to getting cut, she will wise up and play this game a little smarter and with a little more grace.

Meanwhile, for Tammie, there was nothing sadder than her half of the lip-synch showdown. “Break the Dawn” never sounded so melancholy. The girls stood downstage holding their breath. Jade held her hands to her face, seemingly on the verge of tears. Tammie did her best to move to the music, but she did not attempt a single word of that lip synch. At one point, she raised a hand up and waved, parade style, and it was clear that she was really waving good-bye to those judges. She knew it was over. Rather than exiting quietly, she was all but forced to lay down on the tracks.

I had such hopes for quirky ol’ 1940s pin-up girl fit model-cum-cracked-out glamourpuss housewife Tammie Brown. She was the clear underdog. She was from another planet. She was misunderstood and underestimated. And, again, with her departure, I think the show is missing some diversity. She stands out as a unique persona. What she does well, no one else on the show can do better. But she wanted out, and she made her exit with as much hammy dignity as she could muster.

With the specialty girls getting picked off first, I am finding that the ones who remain tend to be the most well-rounded. To win this thing, you need to bring the skills. Already we have seen that you must be able to sew, to play well with others, and to learn a song and choreography tout de suite — or at least fake it pretty damn well. Circumstances and fate led Akashia and Nina to survive this time. Poor Tammie’s weakness was exposed, and she was sent packing.

03
Feb
09

Checkered Flags and Polka-Dot Panties

Watching Logo’s new reality show RuPaul’s Drag Race on DVR, you can’t vote for which queen you would eliminate via SMS (I would have voted to cut Ongina) — but at least you can skip past the Oxy Clean guy. Oh my god, I hate him.

RuPaul    
“Chantez, you stay” or “sashay away”?
[www.rupaul.com]

I am not accustomed to seeing much of RuPaul out of drag. I seem to remember an episode of HBO’s Real Sex in the late ’80s or early ’90s that featured him among several other queens, and I think there were scenes of the boys undergoing their transformations. Who knows which episode it was. My hormone-addled memories of those days, watching “dirty” TV shows in the dark with the volume turned down after mom and dad went to sleep, are not what I would call clear or reliable.

I had a chance to meet him today. In person, he is about a mile tall without the heels. He is fierce without the wig. He is tall and lanky and angular. He is striking. And I know he’s as real as it gets, but I can’t avoid thinking of that male body as a mere canvas for the feminine persona.

On the show, playing in turns the host, the mentor, and the ultimate judge, Rupaul is so classy and together. In his pinstripes and conservative (if slightly oversize) spectacles, he lends a professional, practiced air to the proceedings. One can almost hear him in the dressing room practicing all the sponsors’ lines. American Airlines. M.A.C. Absolut.

Hey, a girl’s gotta pay the bills.

In his tucked-and-plucked getup, he is every bit the good-old RuPaul I have frankly been missing for a long time. It took this show to remind me.

One thing that surprises me is the good chemistry among the contestants. I expected a cat fight, but I didn’t get it. They dish on each other a little bit, but they outwardly express heaps of break-a-leg support. And it feels real. It’s a nice change. It takes balls to be a drag queen — even if you are tucking them up and under. The grace and humility in front of the judges, so far, even when the opinions come off as a bit harsh, is refreshing. They are all so young, and there is much to learn — even for the barbecue-seasoned elder statesman Pork Chop.

The show comes off as a bit earnest yet extremely self aware and playful. Like drag, it doesn’t take itself too seriously &#8212l from the ferocious eyes to the wicked painted-on lips; the soft lighting and warm colors to the frosted lens; RuPaul’s melodramatic pronunciations (“Don’t fuck it up”) to the whole “Gentlemen, start your engines … May the best woman win” thing. It is one long catch-phrase.

There is no shortage of aggrandizement for host and judge RuPaul. Even the workroom clock is an image of him. He makes Heidi Klum look modest. But that larger-than-life ego is also very drag. He’s got two people inside of him. You try to contain that.

So, Pork Chop is gone. I’m disappointed the fat girl got cut first. It would have been nice to have a diversity of size up there. But as it turns out, whatever her skills as a performer, Miss Victoria Parker can’t sew a stitch. And that will never do. What was she thinking?

(Plus, all those skinny bitches are making me hungry. Have a chicken wing and a plate of ribs, honey. Don’t try to look like one!)

Nina Flowers looks promising, but I wonder if she’s a one-trick pony. I like Bebe, but I’m always gonna pull for a girl from Minneapolis.

I’m looking forward to seeing some growth from Jade. As a boy, he is a cutie, but a little girly. Strangely, as a queen, she looks like a boy in a wig and makeup.

I think the underdog so far is Tammie Brown. She looks like a coked-up Bette Davis with a Great Plains forehead, but there’s something I like about her. She’s got a fire in her, and I think we’ll see it come out before long.

Best lines from tonight’s show:

RuPaul: “Ooh! This ain’t no truck stop, honey!”

RuPaul: “… hotter than Tyra. In a fat suit. In July!”

Akashia: “Jade is real cute. Um, I might be a lesbian wit’ him.”

Merle: “Hmm…, ‘Ongina.’ This sounds like a cross between a heart attack and a yeast infection.”

29
Jan
09

U. S. of Ab Fab

Eddie and Patsy
Sweetie, darling! I mean … like, dude.
[www.guardian.co.uk]

Absolutely Fabulous is heading to the states! Again?

After Roseanne Barr’s aborted attempt to make an American version a decade ago, apparently someone else is willing to take up the dangerous, possibly career-chilling mantle of developing for an American audience a hit British TV show that only enjoyed cult status in the States. (There are so many. Do you watch BBC America?) Fox has bought the pilot episode of a new Ab Fab series.

Translating English to English, er — British to American worked for a while with some game shows. It worked with Harry Potter. It’s working with The Office, though it is a wholly different show from the UK original. But can it work for Ab Fab, a show that was so stuck in the moment and instantly dated that it failed to reinvent itself across five series even for its own adoring audience?

Apparently brassy boozers Eddie and Patsy will be living it up in Los Angeles this time — as ever under the disapproving eye of daughter Saffy. No word yet on casting, but we know Jennifer Saunders will be executive producer. Will the girls be American or British? Is this a new television show altogether? Or should we just think of it as Series 6?

I can’t imagine the cast is the same. They were getting to be a bit past their sell-by date even in series 4 and 5, which I think saw a general erosion of the concept and was genuinely less funny.

I have loved Ab Fab from the beginning. My friend first told me about it in 1994, upon his return from a year in England. They hadn’t even gotten through the original three series by then. I was a young-buck college freshman and hungry for gay, gay, gay — and here it was! I had the entire three-series set on VHS. Now, of course, I have all five seasons on DVD. Plus the specials. I adore it. It makes me all warm and gooey inside.

This clip goes all the way back to the first episode of the first series, but I think it is still my absolute favorite. You never want the party to end … but I fear that the longer the show ran, the more diluted, the less funny, the more bizarre it got. This contains some of the best lines of the entire show.

I love Ab Fab like I love ’80s music. It is classic, it appeals to my baser nature, it fills me with joy, and it is surrounded by a cultish enthusiasm. You had to have been there when it was new and relevant, when it was a phenomenon, in order to understand it and care about it. People just a few years younger than me, who have never seen a single episode, usually don’t care to. The accent is hard to understand. They don’t get the humor. And who are those celebrities they are making fun of, anyway?

(Sometimes even I have trouble with that one.)

But maybe those are precisely the folks who will go ga-ga for this new round. Who knows. For some reason, the idea of a couple of 40-something women, boozing it up in L.A., in complete denial of their age, their desperation and their destructiveness, doesn’t necessarily sound funny to me. It just sounds accurate.

Good luck to you, Ms. Saunders! I will certainly be watching.

13
Dec
08

‘Tis the Season (4.5)

There are such long breaks between seasons of Battlestar Galactica that I’ve forgotten what the frak is happening in the series. That half-season tease last year was a rotten, dirty trick.

I remember something about finding Earth, though in considerably poorer shape than anyone had anticipated. But there’s still a great deal of speculation about who the missing cylons are. And I don’t remember many remain to be revealed. (Or have they been revealed? I don’t remember!) Is Roslin still dying? I’m finding it hard to recall who’s dead and who’s still alive. That air-lock sure got a lot of use last season.

Currently, I’m enthralled by a series of webisodes (oh, how I dislike that word) taking place after the last season 4 broadcast. It’s all so deliciously familiar: the spaceship sound effects, Tigh’s crusty Canadian voice.

Plus, apparently, Gaeta’s gay! I’ve been wondering why a show depicting a society sexually liberated enough to have men and women share the same bathrooms, has been so completely absent of gay characters. But I am a little suspicious. The last time they dragged out a gay character, it was during a lull between seasons. Remember Admiral Cain from Galactica Razor? And she ended up dead!

There was no hint of her love life during Season 3, but in a between-season TV movie, we find she had an affair with a Six!

And now a freshly amputated Gaeta has a revelation. Is it a cynical plea for attention? Are the homos not good enough for the regular seasons? We’ll just throw them an extracurricular bone here and there? We’ll see.

For now, I miss this damn show so much that I am perfectly willing to live through another tease. And it gives me plenty of time to pick through the site and catch the frak up. There’s an excellent eight-minute recap of the first three seasons.

I’m so hooked, I’ll even put this widget on my blog:

03
Jul
08

Hostage

One of Jeff’s hobbies, when he comes home from work, is pointing out all the news I missed that day, which usually is a lot. Actually, it’s not something he likes to do. He’s usually exasperated that I don’t know, he being a journalist, the news being his life. But I always feel like an uninformed idiot around him.

Sometimes he tries to trick me. “Oh, Madonna had a heart attack today!” he’ll say.

“No she didn’t,” I’ll calmly reply. “And the reason I know is that I did happen to read earlier that she and Guy are denying the divorce rumors. There was nothing about a heart attack.”

Sometimes it’s feasible, and he’ll get me.

“Another pope dead? Already?”

“Oh my god! How many planes can crash in one day?”

“Why would they put a military base so close to a dog pound?”

It makes me panic. Can I really know so little about the world?

Fifteen people were rescued from six years of captivity in Colombia yesterday. It’s a huge deal. One was a Colombian presidential candidate six years ago. Three are American. You can forgive me for not knowing the particulars; a lot of people have been kidnapped in Colombia. But their release is something I should have caught.

Of course, the ridiculousness that I knew more about Madonna’s marital status was not lost on me.

I used to be a news junkie. I listened to public radio all day long, and on weekends, like it was my job. (In fact public radio was my job at one time, but that’s not what I mean.) I would read a few stories on BBC News online every day. I was never much for daily newspapers, but I would read the Sunday New York Times every week.

Now I hardly ever listen to public radio. It’s too distracting at work, and I don’t like WNYC’s evening or weekend schedule (the good shows come on too early). So thank god for podcasts.

The Sunday Times still stacks up week after week. Sometimes I make a pretense of removing the blue plastic bag. But usually it just sits there, where I’ve kicked it out of the way the previous week.

I can’t say why I lost my enthusiasm, or how, or even when. But I wish I had it back.

One saving grace: I read The Economist now. The economic analysis is a bit over my head, but it’s great to get a non-American perspective on American politics. Its international news coverage is excellent and digestible. And sometimes my favorite stories are from its science and technology section. My favorite thing about The Economist is that it is clearly a magazine, but it refers to itself as a newspaper. Very cute.

On the way home from the subway last night, I saw a lot of men crowding around storefronts and bodegas and the front widows of bars. Each time I passed I could see they were staring up at a soccer game on TV. Don’t ask me who was playing, but I live in a very South American neighborhood, and soccer is a big deal here.

Many if not most of those men were Columbian. I wonder how many of them knew about the hostage news.

25
Apr
08

Faith in Gay Humanity: Safe for Now

The recent finale of “Make Me a Supermodel,” or rather more specifically, the fact that Ronnie did not win, has bolstered my faith in gay humanity.

You know the homos were coming out in droves to watch those boys love themselves week after week. And week after week, polished, hairless gay hero Ronnie Kroell, glowing like a like a spring pig scrubbed in buttermilk, was snatched from the jaws of death.

Ronnie is hot, but not supermodel hot, whatever that is. And he’s nice. And he’s one of those people we hate who will be successful at everything he does. Yet there can be no other explanation than an army of gay well-wishers with cramped thumbs and light hearts sending text messages from far and wide to vote him back on the next week.

I was one of those gays. No matter the options, honestly, shirtless boys will win out every time.

His not winning was one of the few things that gave that show any credibility. I have a hard time feeling sorry for really beautiful people. I have a hard time believing that it’s so hard to walk down a cat walk. But after watching the show, I am willing to concede that there is in fact a skill to modeling. Not a terribly complicated skill, but a skill nonetheless that clearly comes more naturally to some than others.

So, now I can believe that the contestant with the most — a-hem … skill won. As long as Holly avoids talking to her clients, I think she has a long and successful career ahead of her.

19
Dec
07

Song Poison: Pee-Wee’s Playhouse




the untallied hours