With more grapeshot than Captain Jack Sparrow on a 3-day bender, we’re unloading a Spanish Armada’s worth of broadsides.  So much to discuss since last post; since the Hurricanes are front page at the mo, we’re leading with college football, then soccer, then a bit of baseball batting cleanup.

******

A few months back Bomani Jones proposed that we want to be lied to when it comes to major college athletics.  He posited that the amateur “cachet” of the NCAA brought up warm images of young adults wearing letterman sweaters, carrying a stack of books during the week, and fighting for the honor of alma mater and country on Saturdays.  He pointed out that if football and basketball players actually started getting paid a stipend, a living allowance or whatever the hell you wanted to call it, as some propose, that the luster would be lost.  To highlight his point, he used the example of minor league sports and their virtual irrelevance in the bigger sports discussion, whereas college football and basketball occupy prominent places in the headlines during their respective seasons.

Well, if David Ridpath gets his way, Jones’ hypothesis may get put to the test sooner rather than later.  In talking to Tim Keown, he outlines his case for privatizing BCS football.  Essentially, the big boys whose gate receipts, TV contracts and the like can support football on their own would be allowed to privatize their programs; the rest, most of whom use student fees to subsidize largely unprofitable athletic departments, would keep their sports, but essentially drop down to 1AA.  The upper tier would become a de facto minor league for the NFL, with the athletes at these BCS schools becoming contract employees, charged with only playing “foo’ball.”  The lower tier colleges would retain their amateurism, but no longer compete at the highest levels of the sport.  If this plan were ever enacted, it would be fascinating to see the results.  If Jones is right, fans would start ignoring the sport in droves.  My suspicion, though, is that at the end of the day, fans (to borrow the Seinfeld-ism) are rooting for laundry, and would stick with their favorite team.  Hell, at least a third of the fans of any major BCS power never even went to the school.  So Keown and Ridpath may be on to something here.  It certainly couldn’t f*** up The U more than it already is.

*****

Gotta love FIFA and it’s never-ending parade of corruption.  According to this article on Grantland.com last week, FIFA is fairly well useless when it comes to actual governance and only functions to run the World Cup every four years.  This portrayal reminds me of no group so much as the Hollywood Foreign Press, a shadowy organization whose members you’d have a hard time picking out of a lineup, but who preside over one of the biggest shows of the Hollywood awards season.  Except, you know, the HFP’s inherent conflicts of interest and under-the-table dealings don’t end up with people getting killed.

*****

An underrated bonus to having a USMNT boss like Jurgen Klinsmann is his experience in melding styles.  One of the big complaints about Bob Bradley was his perceived unwillingness to bring more Latino players and Latin American style to the team’s lineups and tactics.  One of Klinsmann’s greatest successes in 2006 was instituting a flexibility in style and and player selection that allowed him to meld Polish-German players like Podolski and Klose into the squad in 2006, and allowed Joachim Low to incorporate Arabic, Brazalian, and Spanish players into the 2010 team.  If the Gold Cup final showed us anything (other than the currently huge talent gap between the U.S. and Mexico) it was the passion of the Latino soccer base in this country.  By roping a few more Central and South American players into playing for the Red, White, and Blue (seriously, couldn’t someone in the U.S. government have fast-tracked Andy Najar’s naturalization papers?  Priorities, people!), maybe the U.S. will start closing that talent gap with the rest of the world.

*******

Baseball umpires vs. players: Both are unionized, entitled entities that the MLB higher-ups cower before.  People talk about how level-headed the refs are in other leagues; the difference is that not only are umpires penalized for overreacting and getting in a player’s face, but the player is fined/suspended for badmouthing the refs.  Since both sides are being penalized, both sides stay under control (mostly).  It reminds me of teachers and students.  Teachers are often in the role of referee, e.g. what’s happening, what caused it, who was the instigator, etc.  To extend the analogy to its logical conclusion, the league is then cast in the role of school principal.  A good principal recognizes that with regard to student-teacher confrontations, there are instances when the teacher is at fault, and others where the student is at fault.  Unfortunately, Selig and Co. resemble no one so much as Principle Belding, a doormat who’s getting run over from both sides.

******

Lastly, 2 weeks ago Dan Steinberg took Nationals’ color man Rob Dibble to task for insinuating that women at a baseball game could be talking about anything other than the game.  Dibble’s possible male chauvinism aside, what makes the continuous talk by the women suspicious is that NOBODY can talk that long about baseball.  The sport’s just not that interesting; that is, unless you’re a rabid Sabermatrician.  In the immortal words of Emma Stone, “Oooh, burn!”

Back For The Attack

Posted: July 28, 2011 in Uncategorized

It’s 3 weeks after Redneck Christmas (the 4th of July), and I have a HUGE backlog of topics to hit.  Like Hawkeye in the M*A*S*H episode where he’s forced to stop telling jokes for a week (after further intensive research, I have learned it was only a day), I’m storming the mike and broadcasting all the s*** that I haven’t posted the last month:

 

The Debt Ceiling “Apocalypse”: Wow, Carmegeddon got pushed aside awfully fast in the “Crisis Imperiling All Humankind” news cycle, dinnit?  Sweet lord, people, get a grip.  These guys will come up a solution, and you can rest assured it will be the most half-a-loaf, milktoast, waffling –what other vaguely breakfast activity-sounding adjectives we can come up with?– solution available.  We’re screwed, but it won’t be because people’ll stop lending us money.  Not this year.  Though next year, well, it is the Mayan apocalypse, so being such a mathematical people, maybe they envisioned more of an accounting meltdown rather that a “rivers of fire”-type doom.

Basically both sides are trying to hold on to their toys: The Dems their entitlements, and the Republicans their sweet tax bracket/loopholes.  Both sides have less than no leg to stand on, but the GOP has been particularly clueless regarding the “optics” (he newest phrase coined to describe what an issue looks like to the public; see spin).  To wit: Britain has sold austerity by convincing the public that the pain will be shared, e.g. rich will be taxed more.  So for Republicans to try and sell tax cuts as a way to stimulate growth is, to quote Elaine on Seinfeld, “…weak. No one’s gonna buy it, and you shouldn’t be selling it.”

*****

Made the mistake of watching Grown Ups a couple of weeks back.  Setting aside Adam Sandler‘s newfound taste for circle-jerkatory (it’s not masturbatory, ’cause he’s gotta bring his besties along for the ride) movie making, it did answer a critical question.  We now know what a movie would have looked like that was unsuccessfully based on the writing prompt, “Write a screenplay centered around ‘Yo Mama‘ jokes.”

*****

Although news articles give indications to the contrary, I wonder if Yao’s retirement is in part a way for him to truly rest up to play for China one last time in 2012.  Just based on his past herculean efforts to perform for Team (Rockets) and Country, it’s hard for me to believe that he won’t try to work his way back for a London swan song.

*****

Lastly, if you didn’t see my FB post re. J.C. Kang’s reflection on Amy Winehouse, click immediately on this link. Particularly fascinating to me was the notion of the “stank” that a true soul singer belts out can’t really come from a hottie.  I agree: True “I Got Nowhere To Go But Further Down” Blues can’t come from, say, John Mayer; he’s got too much going for him.  Ditto truly edgy comedy coming from a comic with a 6 car garage.  Sorry, Jerry.

Speaking of the King of Nothing, he’s been trying to hit all the hip comedy bases of late: A bit on “The Daily Show,” the comedy roundtable on HBO with 3 comedians who most milquetoast work would still be more edgy than Jerry’s most vitriolic rant.  He seems to be filling the Alan King role for this generation: The Comedy Taste Arbiter.  The only problem with that is that Alan more often ended up sounding like a “In my day”-type geezer.  Not a crown his Seinness wants to wear.   My advice: Gotta go full Saget.  Blow it all up, or just be happy with the fact that you’re a successful, ridiculously rich elder statesman of comedy.

New posts coming soon, I swear….

Summer Bummers

Posted: July 3, 2011 in Uncategorized

It’s the middle of summer, aka Lockout Season.  Temperatures are hot, and that’s just in rooms where Jerry Richardson and Peyton Manning are forced to coexist.  So in the Summer of the Gordian Knots, it feels increasingly like an exercise in navel-gazing to even talk about what may happen next season in the event that, you know, there is a next season.  Nonetheless, here’s a few items that caught my attention from the No Fun League and No Bargaining Association:

1. This article regarding the fates of several former Bulldogs on the NFL roster bubble got me thinking when I read the following: “Return specialist and former Bulldog MVP Clifton Smith didn’t want to wait to find out which NFL team would give him another chance, so he has signed on with the UFL.”  Which got me to thinking: How many other borderline NFLers are going to go the UFL/CFL route?  The NFL is at least lucky that, unlike the NBA, there are no viable foreign leagues to siphon off players en masse, but the one place I can see this impacting NFL rosters is on special teams.  Clifton Smith, for example, is a great kick returner who will not be plying his trade in the NFL.  Even if this impacts one player per team, in a game where the difference between 7-9 and 9-7 is often measured in inches, this could be a big deal for some teams.

2. From LZ Granderson, describing The Jimmer: “Sometimes, it’s better for a rookie to go to a team on which he can learn the pro game without feeling as if he’s letting his entire state down when he falls short of expectations. “

Which led me to ask, is he talking about Jimmer, or LeBron?  Setting aside Cavaliers’ fans delusional quest for World Domination– in Cleveland!– history will show that LeBron’s greatest misfortune, other than having clueless toadies for advisors, was being drafted by Cleveland.  If you look at Bron’s other sports allegiances, they scream that he is someone who, while he loves where he grew up, could not wait to “go Hollywood,” to star on the Great White Way, figuratively speaking.  He definitely loves Akron, and Ohio; I’m just not sure he ever loved Cleveland.  He wanted bigger things, a bigger stage.

The larger issue, post-meltdown, is a choice.  He has already stated he wants to become a “global icon.”  In women’s tennis, the two ends of that marketing continuum are Anna Kournikova and the Williams sisters: Those who transcend the sport by actively moving on to other fields, and those who transcend the sport while still excelling in it.  I’m not suggesting that is the King is trading on, er, other attributes (Just Say No to sexting, Lebron).  However, he is trading on the attractiveness of his game.  LeBron can aspire to be a global icon (some would say he’s there already), but if he wants to attain MJ’s level of fame, he has to at least produce some fraction of His Airness’ results.  Otherwise, he should just ask for a trade to a team like the Clippers, a big market team that would gladly put up with his shortcomings and would never ask more of him than he was prepared to give in order to put fannies in the seats.

3. Hollinger’s piece on Minnesota’s picks-for-cash exchange [I'm linking to this forum because the original article was on ESPN Insider] makes me wonder: Is Glen Taylor suffering from Sarver-itis?  And in 5 years will we view the Wolves 2011 draft in the same way as we wonder how good the Suns could’ve been in the Oughts had they kept their draft picks?

4. And then there’s this from Grantland’s Editor-A-Go-Go, Bill Simmons: “After failing with Robin Lopez and Taylor Griffin, Phoenix grabs its third twin in three years….”

This would have been some sort of record, not just for NBA drafts, but ANY drafts.  Even in baseball, where at last count the number of rounds reached into triple digits, the odds against even drafting 3 twins in a decade would be statistically amazing.  Unfortunately, Simmons was talking out his ass.  Taylor Griffin isn’t a twin.  He’s older than Blake by 3 years.  2 twins in 3 years though, still pretty incredible.

So THE Ohio State University finds itself in a bit of a sticky wicket, as the Brits say.  This current unfolding tale of corruption in college sports is as timeless as Sam Gilbert, or at least The Pony Express.  For the truly clueless, if you hadn’t caught on that college sports were a Petri dish of malfeasance, chicanery, and other 9+ letter words by 1988, you got your wakeup call with the release of  the Anthony Michael Hall classic Johnny Be Good.

No, the far more interesting story to me is “Terrell Pryor and the Sense of Entitlement of the Modern Athlete.” It is an affliction that often careens so violently into cluelessness that you’re forced to wonder, “How the HELL does the emperor not realize he has no clothes?  It’s 10 below out here!”  For the uninitiated, in addition to the free tattoos that Pryor received that got the whole NCAA investigative ball rolling, Sports Illustrated this week as part of their exposé of the program revealed that Pryor has been seen driving as many as 8 different cars.  To add insult to injury, Pryor has a suspended license at the moment, which means he could be driving the Popemobile with the Pontiff’s permission and still be breaking Ohio law.

All of which got me to thinking: I am constantly flabbergasted at people whose actions fly in the face of everything that one would do in order to achieve their stated career goal.  To wit: Pryor wants to become a big-time NFL quarterback.  However, as Colin Cowherd constantly points out, the main thing that GMs look for when evaluating QB talent is sound decision-making, both on and off the field.  Pryor has been a headache in both places, underachieving in the Horseshoe and behaving like a bonehead once he leaves the stadium.  Perhaps not surprisingly, the quarterback that he draws the most comparisons to is Vince Young, another incredibly athletically gifted signal-caller who can’t seem to get his s*** together out in the real world.

All of this puts me in mind of a conversation that I had with my students this week regarding the dress code that teachers must abide by to be employed by the district.  Tongue rings?  No go.  Tattoos?  I told them that as long as they were concealed, it probably wouldn’t be a deal-breaker.  Neck tattoos?  Now that, I said, would definitely be a problem, and if an applicant had the art for a while, it would most likely mean that they simply wouldn’t be hired.  They seemed to understand, but if they didn’t completely get it, it would be understandable.  They see images on TV, the Internet, etc., where people get money and fame for displaying conduct which in any other walk of life would get them ostracized.  I hope they took it in, I really do.  Because the high school is a huge jock factory, and if they help just one of their jock friends not to become a Terrell Pryor, a Maurice Clarrett, then just maybe that athlete will get more out of their collegiate experience than either of those men did.

You know who the Lakers are? “High Talent/Low Motor Guy.”  HTLM Guy is the oppositee of HTML; the latter is broadband, the former is dial-up.  In the work world, HTLM Guy is the one who shows up 10 minutes late to the job interview, but aces it, so the H.R. guy hires him anyway because he comes from a good school and has glowing recommendations.  Eventually, the company ends up regretting that they hired HTLM Guy because he inevitably flakes out at a key moment that doesn’t seem like a big deal to him, but turns out was a HUGE deal to the company.  I’m a Lakers fan, so I hope I’m wrong, but this team DOES NOT feel like a threepeat team.  In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised to them lose before the Conference Finals.  There’s always a HTHM Guy waiting out there to take HTLM Guy’s place.  (And if you think I’m saying all of this as a sort of reverse jinx, you’re only half right.)

*****

Heard on Carolla‘s show the other day that Spencer Pratt volunteered to be Sheen’s publicist after Chaz “canned” the previous office-holder, Stan Rosenfield. Pratt (has there ever been a more appropriate/Restoration comedy-esque name for a person?) is a universally reviled douchebag who even can’t spruce up his own image.  Having him as your public relations guru is like having Lindsay Lohan as your AA/NA sponsor.

A Sheen of Sanity

Posted: March 15, 2011 in Uncategorized

Two interesting takes I heard last week regarding the Charlie Sheen debacle, both of them by guests on “The B.S. Report.” On Tuesday, Chris Connelly was on and speculated that, unlike other recent celebrity meltdowns, Sheen might actually stand a chance to bounce back from this thing.  Whereas the careers of Mel Gibson and Britney Spears were on a downward arc when they spun out, Charlie actually stands a good chance of latching on to a new job because he has actually made CBS and Warner Brothers a ton of money recently.  Then Chuck Klosterman on Wednesday made the point that Sheen’s situation was unique because, again, unlike other celebrities in crisis, he has been able to control the message, mainly because he was coming to the media from a position of strength versus one of weakness.  Spears and others need E! or Access Hollywood to push their message; Charlie does not.

Put those two facts together: In public sackings, the sackee is normally slagged by their former employer, killing his/her reputation and keeping them from being hired again.  Despite his antisocial behavior (really, Chaz, at least TRY and sober up long enough to keep the key grip employed, you jackass), his likability nor his hirability haven’t seemed to be seriously affected, at least not yet.  Bi-winning, indeed.

*****

A great article by Michael Hiltzik in the L.A. Times the other day.  In a nutshell, the whole “Social Security lockbox” idea is a fallacy for the following reason: The dollars collect in Social Security tax get invested in Treasury bills, and those moneys are in turn are “loaned” to the government to pay for all sorts of things, roads, defense, etc.  The politicians who talk about how they’re fighting to maintain that lockbox are grandstanding, and to a lesser extent, lying.  The larger question is why is the government continually borrowing against those T-bills?  Viewed another way, the government is essentially selling stock (the T-bills) for capital expenditures, only a.) those items are ostensibly being paid for by our taxes, and b) if the government is a “business” these expenditures often fail to create future benefits for the business.  As with many things in finance nowadays, it seems like an elaborate shell game.  But maybe I’m wrong.  If anyone feels like explaining it to me, feel free to drop me some knowledge in the Comments section below.

*****

And then there was this bon mot from Jerry Crowe of the L.A. Times earlier this week:

“Mike Tyson’s misidentifying the Michelin Man as the ‘Michigan Man’ this week reminds reader Geoff Strain of Redondo Beach that Tyson once refused to answer a question from UPI because, “One of your drivers ran over my dog.”

*****

One final note: This post was 3 days later than intended thanks to a strange glitch that seems now to have taken away all the normal linking features that I normally use when posting.  Not sure what happened, but just as I was about to e-mail WordPress for a remedy, it resolved itself.  Thankfully.

You Stay Classy, Academy.

Posted: February 28, 2011 in Uncategorized

I’m sure that others will have more salient, significant, insouciant points to make tomorrow.  Here were my two takeaways from the 83rd Oscars:

  • We are now on Year 2 (3? 4?) of the glorified C***SUCKING that is the preamble to the Best Actor/Best Actress award.  WHEN DOES IT END?  I feel that should the 2 presenters make us actually believe that they believe that Actor/Actress X “has always imbued your characters with strength and humanity that’s impossible to turn away from,” that they should win the award.  Now THAT is a reality show that I can get behind.
  • Best idea of the year/decade: Celine Dion performing live during the “In Memoriam” tribute.  Not necessarily because of Celine, but her singing meant that the audience wasn’t clapping during the clips.  The unseemliness of the applause during previous years’ montages made the whole thing feel like a posthumous popularity contest.  This was, in a word, classier.  Let it be decreed: Live singing for the montage every year.

Other than that, the show timed out at 3:15.  Short, sweet, and presumably the best horse won.  Having seen almost none of the films, I can’t make that statement definitively, but again, the show was short.  Ooh, and Billy Crystal made a cameo.  Awesome.

Free(d) Association

Posted: February 26, 2011 in Uncategorized

New week, new title.  I think this is the one that sticks.  Decided that “The Grapeshot” need not be a title limited to random thoughts too small for a full column, mostly because I’ve decided the blog is going to be mostly short pops with the occasional full-length column, and not vice-versa.  Having said that, going with a  column (-ette?) on all things NBA.

Reason #1 that I love the NBA: The February trade deadline.  The Sports Guy touched on this in his column today, but at least 50% of the NBA’s noteworthy events revolve around player acquisition in some way, shape, or form.  The June draft and the July free agent free-for-all are blips on the radar as far as I’m concerned compared to the FTD, as I will hereafter call it.  Like the famed flower company’s many rose arrangements, it delivers player swaps that profess love, like Carmelo’s for NYC; purity (of basketball purpose), like Sam Presti‘s bid to vault his young club into NBA championship contention; and friendship (at least for now), like D-Will’s trade to the Nyets.

Pundits like to go on and on about how the reason the NFL is compelling for the average fan is precisely because every team has a chance to improve enough to at least play in the Big Game once a decade.  However, no league rivals the NBA for the ability to make that improvement IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SEASON.  The acquisition of one player at the half-mile to three-quarter pole (depending on the sport) is rarely as important as it is in professional basketball.  Football?  Too many players for one pickup to make a large impact; honestly, I can’t remember the last time it happen.  Baseball and hockey?  I know it’s happened, but more often than not, it’s just one piece of the puzzle, and not a large Gasol/Anthony-sized chunk like it is in The Association.  On the diamond or the rink, find me the last time that an in-season trade vaulted a team into the championship game.  Now find me a time that it might happen twice in 5 years (Gasol and Anthony).

If their’s a sour note in all this for me, it’s that the Lakers didn’t manage to find a “1″ who’s a defensive ace/3 pt. specialist at the deadline.  Admittedly, they had nothing to trade with to get a Kirk Heinrich-type, but as a Lakers fan, I feel a bit like I’m sitting at a blackjack table with a cooler as a dealer: I have a 19 or 20 (depending on Ron Artest‘s rediscovering his defensive mojo, his ability to put this ball in the hoop, his psychiatrist’s phone number, or all of the above), but I’d really feel better if I was sitting on 21.

Speaking of RonRon and other players who are not living up to expectations, am I crazy to think that practically every NBA player that is NOT a perennial All-Star needs to be playing like this is a contract year?  Even if I was one of the max guys I’d watch out.  You have to be worried if you’re a player that if the owners really dig in and get all the concessions that they want that there will be some sort of mega-salary blowback.  Best case: A reprise of the Alan Houston rule; worst case, a complete voiding/rollback of contracts, either in terms of yearly salary (unlikely) or years (more likely).  This is all by way of saying that if RonRon wants to keep getting paid a starter’s salary to be a D-League-level player, he better lose the cologne and the mix tapes and start doin’ a little ballin’.  So far he has, which, again, as a Lakers fan, makes me feel better.  Also, Baron Davis might want to lay off the Krispy Kremes in Cleveland if he wants to get paid beyond his current contract.

If there is a lockout, the trade deadline moves of the last week have at least insured that this season will be an all-timer that we’ll remember for some time.  This has easily been the best NBA season since the late 80s; keeping my fingers and toes crossed that it’s just the first of many in this new decade.

It’s February, which means it must be time for… The Return of the Loose Cannon!

So, lots has occurred in the new year, and I’ll try to get to it all in the next few weeks/months.  For now, let’s talk a little entertainment:

1. Watched NBC’s new comedy “Perfect Couples” for the first 2 episodes.  Normally, I try and give a series the full Simmons-mandated 5 eps before ditching it entirely.  However, just as certain athletes merit a waiving of the normal waiting time for Hall of Fame induction, I felt this “comedy” can just get inducted into the crappy sitcom club now.

The conventional wisdom is that TV is a writer’s medium, and by extension, a producer’s medium, which is for the most part true; almost all of the most successful shows in television history were overseen by writers who moved up to the executive suites.  So examining the pedigree of the producers involved in a show can go a long way toward telling you how good the show is going to be.  The producers for this show, Mssrs. Pollack and Silveri, met while working on… wait for it… “Joey.”  Now, I’m not saying that this fact in and of itself should have given NBC suits pause.  After all, Silvestri was also an executive producer on “Friends” during its last 3 years… although those episodes are now collectively known as “The Ones Where The Show Sucked.”  Okay, so maybe the “Joey” thing  should have given Zucker pause when it came to picking up this show.

The larger issue if you’re NBC is what to do with the gaping ax wound that is the Thursday 8:30 time slot.  To be blunt, that half-hour is where comedies go to die.  It has worse luck than the red-shirted ensign on “Star Trek.” My personal suggestion?  Just have your 3 successful comedies (“Community,” “The Office,” and “30 Rock”) crank out a shitload of 1-hour eps, then take turns rotating the shows into the 8:00 slot.  Why not at the 8:30 slot?  Did ye not hear what I jest told yer, matey?  The slot be cursed!  Cursed, I tell ye!

2. Just got done watching the Bourne trilogy the other day, and watching him stow assorted bags in a number of airport and train station lockers set me to wondering: In real life, are these lockers ever used for anything OTHER than storing contraband?  You never see a movie where the protagonist uses one of these things because he/she has too many bags and uses it to avoid paying the airline’s extra baggage fee.  Which brings up an additional question: Do these lockers still even exist in American airports today?  The Bourne movies mostly take place in Europe, and it’s in those transportation hubs where Matt Damon is always squirreling away the tools of his trade.  I can’t imagine in this post-9/11 environment that a huge quantity of potential bomb storage containers would be allowed to exist, particularly in airports.  Then again, given that I’m generally trying to navigate security without getting a testicular cancer check by a TSA agent who is taking his job a little too seriously, I haven’t been paying attention to whether these lockers are still around or not.

3. Finally, a word about likable guys in Hollywood.  Watched Valentine’s Day last month and was SO pissed.  Not because it was bad, although it was.  I got upset mainly because it could have been really good.  And that makes it more egregious; for me, a film that squanders great potential is ten times worse than a film from which I expect little and get less, like “Transformers 2.”

A little known fact about me: I am a romantic film junkie.  I like a really well done, or even competently executed, romance.  This was a thoroughly INCOMPETENT film, for (but not limited to) the following reasons:

I. The shitty soundtrack where EVERY song is about love.  Straight out of the Rob Reiner “We need indicator music here, because I’m not sure the audience is going to know how to feel” playbook.  Blehhh.

II. Stunt casting: Having A-list stars “slum it” in an ostensibly ensemble film.  In some cases, it pays off in unexpected ways (more on that in a minute).  However, most instances in this film fall into the Taylor/Taylor quiniela of suck.  The sad part is that the Taylor Squared storyline does eventually have a comedic payoff, only the audience is left so resentful of the time wasted on them that even when the laughs come, they’re tinged with a sort of “Why couldn’t we have gotten to this sooner” feeling of annoyance.  Emma Roberts was the lone bright spot in that crappy teen menage a quad, but again, we didn’t care by that point, because too much of the film had been wasted on their taradiddle. Incidentally, I found this word on Thesaurus.com; appropriate both definitionally and onomatopoeiatically (the finger-drumming I was doing waiting for the teens to exit the screen).

III. The DJ, Romeo Midnight: Pops up 3 times in the movie, completely extraneous.

IV. Lazy continuity issues.  We don’t see when:

a. Jennifer Garner decides not to fly to Frisco, but instead stay in L.A. and find out the truth about Patrick Dempsey’s marital status.

b. That Bradley Cooper sees Eric Dane‘s presser.  There’s the scene midway through where Bradley tells Julia Roberts that he just got out of in a relationship where they “weren’t on the same page,” presumably because Dane wouldn’t come out.  So in the name of preserving the surprise, we get nothing until the .5 second “You saw [the press conference]” in Cooper and Dane’s last scene. Their reconciliation might as well come with the subtitle, “We threw this line in because we remembered belatedly that we didn’t set this up AT ALL.”  BTW, not having them kiss there was a complete puss-out, and this coming from a man for whom gay men kissing is about as appealing as a plate of unbuttered, unseasoned brussels sprouts.

V. Lazy filmmaking.  The scene with Garner and the kid where he says, “Has that ever happened to you?”  Why do we need that? When Garner says, “It’s things like that [stuff in common], that can turn a friend from someone that you like to someone that you love.”  WE GET IT.  STOP THERE.  Let Garner have the realization full frame that her best bud Ashton Kutcher is really the love of her life.  Let the picture do the talkin’.  Less is more.

At the end of the day, the film squanders some appealing storylines with Kutcher & Garner; Topher Grace & Anne Hathaway; Jamie Foxx & Jessica Biel; and Cooper, J. Roberts & her son.  [BTW, I may be only heterosexual male on the North American continent who thinks that Jessica Biel is not really that attractive.  That said, I really liked her in this film.  She may have found her calling as a-- dare I say?-- character actress in this film.]  Even scenes that were set up as grace notes were good, with Dempsey & Jessica Alba coping with a Valentine’s Day alone.

All of this sent me scrambling to IMDB to figure out: WHY does Garry Marshall still get to direct movies?  His track record in the past 2 decades since Pretty Woman and Frankie and Johnny? 10 movies, none of which rate above a 6.1 on IMDB’s rating scale.  A side note: I generally find IMDB’s ranking to be remarkably accurate, a nice cross section of Eberts (folks who judge the film on what it was) and Siskels (folks whose critique is based on what they wanted the film to be).  On this scale, I generally find that 0-4 is awful, 4-5 is mediocre, 5-6 is watchably average, 6-7 is pretty good, and everything above a 7 some gradient of excellent.  So basically Garry’s films have been incredibly, mind-numbingly average.  Which might be forgivable were he not squandering the talents of so many amazing actors in his films.  What this really means if you factor out the actors he bribes with incriminating photos- er, convinces to be in his films, you can probably drop all those films to the sub-5 mediocre range.  So how does he get all these A-listers to populate his films?

Call it the Garry Marshall Corollary: Likable guys charm their way into advantageous situations in Hollywood, as in life, to disastrous results.  I started to call this the Keanu Reeves corollary, because no one had tumbled into more good fortune than Keanu.  However, say what you will about Keanu, but nobody has done more with less (namely, his, er, yeoman-like acting), not just through schmoozing, but hard work.  Garry works hard, too, I’m sure; the difference is that Garry does less (his films) with more (his stars).

And now GM (General Mismanager) is making another film due to come out during the Christmas movie season: New Year’s Eve.  Once again, a star-studded ensemble cast.  Once again, a set of romantic stories set against the backdrop of an emotionally fraught holiday, providing a myriad potentially dramatic scenarios.  So why can I already smell the 17% on the TomatoMeter?  I would hope that Valentine’s Day would have provided Mr. Marshall with a primer on how not to create an ensemble romance.  Sadly, two decades of hopelessly unexceptional films would suggest that come December, we will discover that he has learned nothing.

Grapeshot III: With a Vengeance

Posted: December 12, 2010 in Uncategorized

A little too gassed to write a lengthier post.  Which means: Return of the Grapeshot!

*****

When I was a child I remember reading The Bible Story, an illustrated version of The Bible for kids, and getting to the part in Revelations where they talk about how all of peoples’ lives and misdeeds would be played out for all to see.  My life’s misadventures writ large across the heavens, on God’s personal Jumbotron, was a mortifying idea.  Everyone knowing every instance I did something embarrassing, every time I picked my nose, etc.?  Awful.

Well, 21st century life has effectively become what I used to dread.  With cell phone cameras, TMZ and the like, there are few moments in a person’s life that remain private anymore.  Adam Carolla brought up an excellent point the other day: The teacher that went on a tirade in his college seminar class, the father who came on the bus to confront the bully, this shit all went on before, but you just heard about it that day or the next day at school; you didn’t have video evidence.

Which brings up another interesting question that was Adam posed to his guest news gal Gina Grad a couple of months back.  The question: Would you rather sleep with someone you COULD NOT STAND, and no one would know, not even the guy/gal you slept with, or to have done nothing, and to have everyone THINK you slept with that person, to the point that you couldn’t talk them out of it?  Gina thought about it, and came to the conclusion that Adam was sort of steering her toward: she would choose the former.  And I think I would choose the same.  My rationale can best be explained by the following Shakespeare quote, spoken, ironically enough, by Iago in Othello:

Who steals my purse steals trash; ’tis something, nothing;
‘Twas mine, ’tis his, and has been slave to thousands:
But he that filches from me my good name
Robs me of that which not enriches him
And makes me poor indeed.

Unless you’re famous, and you can leak it to TMZ yourself.  Then it can be quite lucrative.  Or so I’ve heard.

*****

As I was reading another article re Israel/Palestine, or Iraq, or Afghanistan, or Pakistan, or Yemen, or, or…, I came across the following term: “Middle East ally.”  At this point in U.S. foreign policy, isn’t a “Middle East ally” analogous to a “Facebook Friend?”  In both instances, there are a few keepers in there, but by and large, both groups are populated with people who could best be described as casual acquaintances, very few of whom would help you move on a Sunday during the NFL season.  Okay, I may be in danger of overextending the metaphor.

*****

Gotta feel for Sepp Blatter.  More than anyone else, he has to be thankful that 2010 is coming to a close.  First he had a World Cup that while successful on the surface, was marred by refereeing scandals on the pitch and the question of “What comes next for South Africa” off it.  Most of the stadiums were not constructed with multi-use capability; they’re too small for cricket matches, and they lack the luxury suites for rugby, only the two most popular sports in South Africa.  And now he has every nation not named Russia or Qatar crying foul over a site selection process with transparency issues.  I don’t want to imply that there was a lot of back room dealing, but when a veteran of the old Politburo like Vlad Putin endorses your committee, you might need to take a long look in the mirror.

*********

And bringing us full circle: I LOVED how “Talk Soup” in the episode 2 weeks ago (?) interspliced a story with Mel Gibson talking about how he slapped Oksana to calm her from shaking while holding a baby with video of him on a presser doing the whole “on one hand/on the other hand” motion that looked like he was demonstrating holding a baby.  That show’s the best.

Sadly, Mel doesn’t have to wait for The Rapture for everyone to see his personal peccadillos.  Your life can’t get more “live and in stereo” than his past five years.  At this point, the whole Lake of Fire might be looking pretty good to him.  As it would for me if everyone knew I slept with Sandra Bernhard. Wait, did I say that out loud?