Tag Archives: MicheBelz Hollywood

One World a Letdown So Far

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To be fair, this season of Survivor has a lot to live up to. The brilliance and poignancy of last season’s Good vs. Evil (or whatever they really called it) is gonna be hard to top. Battle lines were drawn with audience members, but I am (and was) quite firmly in the “religion is cool in a reality show context” camp.

I loved Brandon, I loved Coach, I even loved the eventual winner. It was all wonderful for me, almost from the first frame.

This season, dubbed, “One World,” um, not so much. In fact, almost exactly the opposite for me. The beginning of last season, sure we had a bunchy of new people, but we also had Coach’s smiling face. And Ozzy’s. And Cochran’s. And people we’d come to know and love.

“One World”? Um…  The people are uninspiring.

Then there’s the game. There is no more Redemption Island, which could be good or bad, we shall see. There are more immunity idols. OK. Good news! If you find one, you can’t necessarily keep it, which makes it more interesting.

What I had hoped for with One World is more of the promise of last season: people learning how to work together. They took steps toward that by having both teams share one beach. The teams are also divided into Men and Women. Not sure how that’s going to play out, except that so far, both sides seem really selfish and out for themselves.

It’s quite jarring to watch, after last season’s moments of peace and beauty.

Also, there was no “virtual living room” tonight. People were stupid, doing stupid, selfish things. Not sure how much more of it I’m going to watch. It’s certainly not Must Watch TV like last season was.

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A Fugue of Sex and Love Addiction: Shame

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I waited, as I read some of the reviews of Shame. I watched all of the major reviewers sort of dance around trying to figure out if they got what was going on, what this movie was really about. Watched for the two words: Sex addiction.

Sadly, I saw them nowhere.

MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD READ THIS REVIEW ONLY AFTER YOU’VE SEEN SHAME. MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD READ THIS REVIEW ONLY AFTER YOU’VE SEEN SHAME. MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD READ THIS REVIEW ONLY AFTER YOU’VE SEEN SHAME. MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD READ THIS REVIEW ONLY AFTER YOU’VE SEEN SHAME. MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD READ THIS REVIEW ONLY AFTER YOU’VE SEEN SHAME. MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD READ THIS REVIEW ONLY AFTER YOU’VE SEEN SHAME. MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD READ THIS REVIEW ONLY AFTER YOU’VE SEEN SHAME.

But this movie is to Sex Addiction what Days of Wine and Roses is to alcoholism. Ever wanted to know the sordid details behind a sex addict’s mind? Here you go. The lies, the hidden pornography, the near-constant masturbation. The near destruction of one’s own life, while being in complete denial about it. All here.

What (also) isn’t talked about is how his (Michael Fassbender, as our protagonist) sister (Carey Mulligan) suffers from a concurrent love addiction. She bounds into his life from who knows where, and opens up a door on his behavior. Make no mistake, they are cut from the same cloth.

They are both from New Jersey. Brother dear now lives in NY. When sister arrives, she has somehow booked a singing gig at a club. She does a gut-wrenching version of “New York, New York” that also makes her otherwise unfeeling brother tear up.

It’s also interesting to me that the first time you see both of them completely naked, it’s not in a sexual way. He, because he’s taking a piss. She, because she’s in the shower.

Also, to director Steve McQueen’s immense credit (which also other reviewers seem to have missed), it’s incredibly hard to show all the sordidness of a sex addict’s life, and not make it seem sexy. He does this partly through the script, and partly through excellent camera work and editing.

Sex addiction, for those not savvy to it, makes every person a potential sex object. The sex addict is skilled, like a sexual viper, always able to conquer their prey. But it’s a nameless faceless game. Know as little about someone as possible. Give away as little of yourself as possible.

So when the phone starts ringing early on, I was puzzled. Not like a sex addict to give out their phone number. Of course, it turns out to be his sister.

Later, he meets someone and goes on an actual date. She asks him how long his longest relationship was, “Four months,” he says.

Being present is also a very difficult thing for any addict, but especially a sex addict. So when he asks his date what time period, past or future, she’d like to live in, she responds: “Right now.” He’s completely perplexed. But she is, indeed, very connected, very present, very in touch with her emotions.

You see this in another way. You’ve seen his addictive sex in many ways. But when he beds this gorgeous emotionally connected black woman, she touches his face, lovingly. He can’t go on. He knows nothing of this kind of sex.

But, his sex addiction fuse having been lit, it has to be finished. You see him, moments later, with someone that he picked up from somewhere. Doesn’t matter. It’s another drug, and he’s scored.

The purging that he does after that experience is equivalent to what anyone has to do when they get sober. Alcoholics pour their drink down the sink, drug addicts destroy their paraphernalia, sex addicts throw away all the morass of their secret stashes. Yes, even their computers.

He has his emotions opened up now. He has a big blowout fight with his sister. It’s quite compellingly shot from behind as they sit on a couch. Sex addict vs. love addict, mano a mano. It’s brutal, and painful.

He caps his words with a night of sex bingeing that gets quite ugly.

And, in the morning, he is sobbing on the beach. Someone on Twitter said, “Oh big deal, so he cries on the beach.” They missed the whole point. It IS a big deal that he was sobbing on the beach. The way for a sex addict to heal (or any addict) is to actually feel their feelings. And yes, that usually does initially involve a lot of crying.

I was hoping that it would all end with Brandon getting into recovery. But that’s probably too pat and predictable an ending.

The way it actually ended was with one of his sex toys on the train, a married woman who constantly flirts with him. Once he ran out of the train, following her and lost her. This time, she starts flirting, and he remains seated, not taking the bait.

I looked behind his head. In the shot, is a poster for a place called “The River NYC.” Not exactly a recovery place, but its website said this: “Our goal is to create a warm and welcoming space where we can develop a genuine spirituality.” Yep. Sounds like recovery to me. All you have to do is look around, and find it.

A much better ending.

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ADDENDUM: Roger Ebert mentions it in his review.

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Moneyball: Way too on the money

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Do you love a good baseball movie? Does thinking about Field of Dreams or Bull Durham just get you all wistful? Or The National? Yeah, me too. Moneyball is none of those.

Or were you stunned and amazed by Russell Crowe’s mathematical brilliance in Beautiful Mind? Well, me, not so much.

But this movie is kind of a combination of those two. If you’re going for a rousing baseball movie, you’d best stay home. Ditto if the sight of math (especially math on a screen) starts putting you into heaves.

I just don’t know what to make of this movie. There are so many reasons I wanted to like it.

For instance, I attended with my friend who (GASP!) had never even HEARD of Aaron Sorkin, much less cottoned to his patented “walk and talks.” Sorkin, though, is the second credited writer on this. After Steven Zaillian. Now, if one has a discussion of the top ten living screenwriters today, it’s pretty assured that both of those names would be on the list.

Still, the script pretty much left me cold.

Part of it was the script (or lack of it), part of it was the ham-fisted direction by Bennett Miller. You can just read the page in your mind: “and he tears up, hearing his little girl’s voice. He decides to stay.” CUT TO: Tears in his eyes.

No joke. The final (supposed to be poignant shot, I guess) was a close-up of tears in Brad Pitt’s eyes. I wanted to barf.

And you would think that with eight (and counting) little brats of his own, that he’d be able to convey this fatherliness that warrants the end tear-up. I musta missed it.

Also, while his team is out there, struggling it out, Brad Pitt’s character is anywhere but on the field or watching. He’s working out, he’s in his office, he’s driving, far away. Why? Well, if you rustle your popcorn at the wrong time you’ll miss it, but his little tyke at one point says, “You’re not gonna jinx it, go back.”

From this, I guess, that you are supposed to glean that he’s afraid of jinxing his own team. That’s why he stays away. And, to hammer that point home, he returns when they have an 11-point lead. The other teams starts scoring. It ends up tied.

Do we cut to the drama on the field? No, been there, done that. Instead, we get Pitt, agonizing in the locker room about whether or not he’s jinxing them. Yikes.

Maudlin crap like that.

So, the direction was dreadful. But let’s get back to the story.

Now, if it’s a good baseball movie, it should be understandable by anyone who watches it, whatever their level of baseball knowledge.

And I love baseball. I wouldn’t claim to be intimate with all its arcana, though.

The premise here is that MLB had gotten too full of its britches, offering million-dollar contracts to people who really didn’t deserve them. And that some Yale dude had figured out a mathematical way to know who deserved to be hired and who didn’t. Based on how often they got on base. Mathematically.

Jonah Hill does the best with this that he can. Coach Phillip Seymour Hoffman, who still wants to coach baseball his way, adds some fire to a nothing role.

But to me, in the end, baseball is really about those guys out there on the bases. Not the money men counting out their worth in back rooms. This movie dealt far too much with those guys. Did this new way of “counting” change baseball? Apparently so.

Do we care? No matter how many close-uped tears you shoot, the answer is still no.

Young Adult Is Infinitely Missable

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The central problem for why “Young Adult” is so terrible is that its protagonist is loathesome.

I dunno. Maybe it’s just me, but I no longer find someone drinking too much, acting out when drunk, or acting out when seriously love-addicted, to be a funny thing. I cannot root for this person, other than to root that they seriously find rehab soon.

Our lead, Mavis Gary, is hell-bent on her own destruction, chasing down her “true love,” who is happily married and just had a child. She plans to steal him away. This never goes well, nor is it a viable plot premise anymore, I would argue.

(I found Julia Roberts similarly reprehensible in “My Best Friend’s Wedding,” though her guy was not quite married yet in that one. No matter, same conniving horribleness at hand.)

So, beautiful statuesque Charlize Theron (who does give this part the old college try) drinks way too much. In real life, if someone drank as much as she did, she would not be in any semblance of shape, certainly would not have the flawless skin that she has (no matter how many facials she received; the movie shows us no less than three times that she gets manis and pedis and spends a lot of time with her hair and face). No, in fact a woman who drinks like this would be already developing that bulbous red nose thing that many full-blown alcoholics get.

But then, this is a romantic comedy right, with the guy who’s not the guy she’s chasing whom she’s supposed to fall in love with. And SPOILER they don’t. She spends most of her time bending his ear about her totally-in denial love addiction plan. He tells her she’s crazy and needs therapy (true!). After making a complete fool of herself later, she consents to sloppy last-stand sex with him, and leaves him and his sister (“Take me with you!” she demands; Mavis doesn’t, with the cold line, “No, you’re good here.” Here being their vapid small town.)

Just a loathesome person from start to finish, who learns nothing along the way.

Other actors: Patrick Wilson as the “true love” is wonderful. Elizabeth Reaser (what is with her as “the other woman”? Between this and “The Good Wife,” sheesh), but she’s also wonderful as the man’s wife.

Even Patton Oswalt, getting more and more juicy roles in cinema, is quite the charmer.

I loved “Juno.” Normally, I like Diablo Cody. Didn’t like this. Normally, I like Jason Reitman, the director. Didn’t like this.

(Although the nihilistic end of the world Kendra-Kardashian double bill on her TV screens was a wonderful touch.)

This movie is really best avoided. Unlike you like loud mouthy desperate out of control love-addicted alcoholics. Then, you might find this a laugh riot. Me, I like to like my protagonists.

Or, you might wanna really punish yourself. Go see this on a double feature with that sex addiction movie, Shame. Fun times!

Who should be the new Oscar host?

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So, who should we have hosting the Oscars this year? Hurry, people, time’s a wasting…
Eddie Murphy’s out (*sob*). Totally joking. I can’t stand Eddie Murphy, and he would’ve made a terrible host. In fact, all ego-maniacs need not apply, so sit down Will Smith.

It really and truly should be a comedian of some flavor, because it needs to be someone who will keep on with the funny when people are staring at him/her blankly.

It should be someone who knows Hollywood and isn’t too fanlike about it (Rosie O’Donnell can sit down). But someone who is also sufficiently deferential to it. (David Letterman can sit WAY down and take both Uma and Oprah with him.)

It should be someone who can sing and dance, so the old standbys come to mind: Hugh Jackman (busy with that Les Miz movie), Neil Patrick Harris (busy with his TV show). Billy Crystal has just done it too much. He also needs to sit down.

Someone who thinks quickly on their feet, preferably someone comfortable with improve or standup, cause stuff happens at the Oscars that you just have to be prepared for, and willing to go off script for. (Steve Martin can sit WAY down.)

While we’re at it, forget the youngsters (especially after the “talking too freely” that got Brett Ratner bounced, we have to have some older dude or dudette who isn’t going to let the wrong thing slip. Who knows the meaning of politically correct, yet is savvy enough to know who to take jabs at (and who NOT TO). Please sit Ricky Gervais down and shut him the hell up. And while you’re at it, take that drink out of his hand.

So, in short, someone who’s polite, savvy about Hollywood, works hard enough to step in to this madness quickly, someone who can sing and dance or at least tell a good joke.
My own personal short list would be this: Craig Ferguson or Jimmy Fallon (though, this being ABC, probably not likely), Dan Finnerman (from “the Dan Band”)—he would rock it!, Marc Maron, Chris Hardwick, Jay Mohr.

Women? There aren’t too many choices there. Kathy Griffin comes to mind, but she has the sassy mouth that got Ratner bounced. You know who would be a fantastic female Oscar host? Loni Love! She would rock that Kodak. And you know she looks great in some gowns.

Or maybe Ricki Lake, after she wins Dancing with the Stars, to promote her new talk show? Nah. Loni Love would be better.

Those would be my final choices: either Dan Finnerman or Loni Love.

Boy, would those be some fun Oscars. Enough with the overpriced, full of themselves celebs and young people who haven’t got a clue. These two have been around the block a time or two.

Another wacky, but perfect choice? Ross Matthews. You know he respects the Oscars enough. It may even compensate for his youth and inexperience. He’d be a great choice.

What say you?
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Let them eat cake: the Kardashian trainwreck

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We already know that the world is changing in a big way. People are marching in the streets against the excesses of greedy corrupt politicians and Wall Street types.

But let me explain a bit more the world as I see it. On the one hand, we have strong fervent intellectuals who care about each other and the environment (Michael Moore, Susan Sarandon, Tim Robbins, Angela Davis, Marianne Williamson are among those who’ve spoken at one #OccupyAmerica protest or another.). On the other side, you can pick any antagonist: the Koch Brothers; Herman Cain, bought by the Kochs; any of the Wall Street bankers who should be in jail right now; Dick Cheney, war criminal; any of countless others.

For this article, however, I choose to focus on the travesty that is Kim Kardashian. If ever there were a Marie Antoinette among the sorry lot, she is ours.

On the one side, we have people starving because they can’t find work, living on the streets because their homes have been foreclosed, unemployment’s run out and the Republicans won’t give us any more. Many millions of you can fill in this blank. It’s too sad and depressing.

But, on the other side, we have the family Kardashian, most notably Kim, who is arguably the prettiest. One might be comfortable admiring her for her beauty if only she remained quiet and didn’t wreak such havoc on our senses.

Remember back when “reality TV” started? And I mean back in the days when it wasn’t scripted, when what was happening was really real? (Only Survivor still remains so.) For the others, we have some writers somewhere coming up with grand scenarios for our viewing pleasures, to distract us from the travesties at home. The worst, the absolute worst of these (yes, in many ways even worse than the Jersey Shore nonsense and those “Housewives”) is the Kardashian clan.

I’m not sure exactly HOW MANY shows they have on E!, but if it’s even more than one, that’s too many. They just always seem to be on the channel when I skim around. Living a life of boredom and idle richness. Getting mad at a boyfriend because he playfully pushes her in the lake when she is wearing $35,000 earrings. Mindless things like that. Supposed to, I suppose, make us jealous. In fact, it makes me as sick as those Housewives do (not that I watch either, but they do cross my consciousness FAR too much).

I suppose a Kardashian show or eight would be bad enough (and it is). But the worst, the trainwreck of which I speak that makes me want to throw up as I type this is the wedding.

Mind you, the rest of the country (if I may speak for all of you here) is pretty much living frugally, scrimping, saving, trying desperately to make ends meet. We are all about authenticity. We seek transparency in our social media and government. We speak truth to each other, cause brother, that’s all we’ve got left these days.

In the Kardashian world, it’s all made-up nonsense (well, except the part about her liking the black boys). She was (that would be Kim) was flabbergasted that people who meet her on the street “actually believe” that the stories being pumped at us by E! are thought to be true. Well, yes, cause that’s the way WE live. In our own truth.

Miss Kardashian and company, who became famous solely because their father got murderer OJ an acquital, well, and maybe because she has a nice butt, live in the Land of Denial. Everything is fake. Her nails, her scenarios and, as it turns out, her boyfriends and husbands.

Now, for those blissfully living in other countries, and missing all this Americana, let me school you. The tabloid-trash TV channel E! saw that Prince marries a commoner thing happening in England, and decided it wanted that for its very self. Cause after all, according to them (I’m so not making this up, “The Kardashians are our country’s royalty.”) Really? In what universe? Say “the Kennedys” and you could have a discussion. But “the Kardashians”? HARDLY.

Mind you, again, this is a country where people are desperate for jobs, where they know the existence of every soup kitchen just so they can get some food.

The Kardashians were gifted extravagances in the vicinity of $17MILLION + for their wedding. Kim’s wedding to some jamoke. SEVENTEEN MILLION DOLLARS and counting. (Counting because her dress was gifted, her shoes were gifted, etc.) The $17M was just for the WEDDING ITSELF.

It was a lavish spectacle of hype, which I was so sickened by, I scrupulously avoided it like the plague. But I couldn’t help being bombarded by E!’s nonstop hype-o-rama of it. Two weeks before: Here Comes the Kardashian Wedding! Only on E!
Every day: “Bet you can’t wait, the Kardashian Wedding! America’s Royalty” and blah and blah and blah some more…

The TWO DAY SPECIAL was hyped nearly every hour. TWO DAYS to broadcast this monstrousity in its entirety. This lovefest. This joining of two fame whores in splashy E! garish union. Cameras everywhere. Other fame whores in attendance, or E! stalwarts.

Chelsea Handler, who is one of the few decent things on E!, did not attend. A member of her regular troupe of players did. Cause really, who are Kim Kardashian’s actual friends? People that E! pays work just fine.

The whole wedding got me pretty steamed. Or nauseated, depending on the day.

The after-examination as E!’s other stalwart, Joan Rivers, dished the gowns of people in attendance. Oh, did I mention? Kim had THREE. THREE wedding gowns. One for the ceremony, one for the reception. I don’t even know what the other one was for. For the hop into the limo to head to the honeymoon? Who knows? Who cares? I wish I didn’t know these stupid facts. (You can imagine how ever-pervasive this nonsense had to be: I was studiously avoiding all mention of this crap, and still I gleaned bits here and there of data about it.)

But now, 73 days later, 73 days and $17M squandered later, this marriage made in TV heaven is no more. The divorce papers are on their way. And that makes me even angrier.

I was thinking of that other reality show (the only real one left), Survivor, which this season has the evil Russell Hantz’s nephew, Brandon, fighting out between Good and Evil. In interview, he said he was “trying to reclaim his family’s good name.”

Tonight, the day after the divorce announcement, the “good Kardashian”, brother Rob was hoofing out his angst on Dancing with the Stars. He didn’t say it, but he’s doing the only thing possible to “redeem his family’s good name.” Showing the benefits of actual hard work. (As his boorish, ill-mannered sisters heckle and jeer from the sidelines, there’s Rob, who feels like he doesn’t fit in with his family.) All I can say to you, Rob, is: Good thing. They make me want to throw up.

I sincerely cannot even look at any of them anymore. Please God, make them go away.

Arrogant Maks takes aim at stodgy Len: DWTS

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First, it’s a dance show based on the premise that professional dancers can make complete non-pros look good. People who’ve never before danced are all of a sudden doing dance counts in their heads and rumbaing with the best of ’em. All well and good.

They’ve got fabulous costumes and makeup (and an amazing new set this season). Lots of lights and sparkle make them look good. What they do seem to be lacking this season is some kind of director.

One who, for example, will tell the boisterous, raucous crowd, YES, even those Kardashians, to shut the hell up, because the judges and the opinion of the judges is what’s most important (at least until the public votes, anyway). Who the hell made these Kardashians so darned important? Their brother is dancing, and you see them, front row, talking back to the judges, hogging camera time. Get over it.

Same kind of beside the point nonsense went on last season when mama Palin was there to watch her daughter Bristol go WAY WAY WAY further in that competition than she ever should have. Pathetic and sad, and happily there was a public outcry that still hasn’t died down.

But, for better or for worse, and despite the screaming obnoxious throngs, we are now down to the last seven contestants. Among them, one I consider to be one of the worst (even before last night), soccer player Hope Solo.

I saw her dance last night, but I have to admit, I think she is so dreadful I was consciously trying not to watch her. Plus, I find Maks to be really sexy, so it’s easy to watch him instead.

The judges, in commenting, said it was “one of her worst dances.” Len, in his comments, noted that it was better that she’s not wearing heels, as they seem to throw off her dancing. In Len’s defense, I think this is a valid comment. She doesn’t seem at all comfortable with the “girly” part of this dancing thing.

Maks, before the judging even finished, went off on poor Len. Maks was pissed that the judges worry about something so superficial as a heel. He stormed off moments later to his on-camera interview and said, “It’s MY SHOW!”

Really? When did it become Maks’ show? Len’s been there since the beginning, too, has he not? Did I miss something? Or is it just Maks’ overwhelming arrogance?

Also in defense of Len, these contestants are, by and large, terrible. They are not dancers. The professionals try to dance circles around them, to not let the public know that they are really terrible, but they are. (Except for nearly professional dancer Nicole Scherzinger a couple of seasons ago, who rightly won the trophy. She was a joy to watch.)

And Len, by this point, must run out of things to say that don’t crush these people completely, yet accurately point out their mistakes. Hope Solo deserved (and got) bad scores for this dance. I sincerely hope that she is voted out tomorrow night. Between her bad dancing and Maks’ arrogance, they both need to sit this one out, and let some of the actually good and respectful dancers come to the forefront.

Maks should take a cue from Derek Hough. He’s been there “since the beginning too.” As far as I know, it’s “his show” too, in fact moreso than Maks, since he’s won more Mirror Ball Trophies from his dancing/choreography. You don’t see him getting all arrogant and in Len’s face about judging marks. They just try harder next week.

For that matter (although I’m currently rooting for David Arquette), I hope that Ricki Lake wins this season. She is working her butt off, and Derek is providing truly inspired choreography (something only Derek Hough and Mark Ballas seem to be able to do on this show). THEIR choreography lifts even the worst dancers into realms they could only dream of, if the “celebrity” is capable of doing it. Who knows? Maks could have fantastic choreography, that Hope isn’t even capable of carrying out. (I did really like Maks’s season with Erin Andrews. That dancing was truly inspired. And his season with Kirstie Alley was pretty fun, too. Can’t always have great partners, Maks.)

In any case, I thought Len and Maks’ little spat was really unprofessional and out of line. They need to stop and get back to the dancing.

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Emmys 2011: Some thoughts

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Kyle Chandler. That’s all I keep thinking about when I remember last night’s Emmys. The good guys finally won. Our full hearts and clear eyes finally found some Emmy voters who agreed with not only Kyle Chandler as Best Actor in a Drama, but also the series finale, “Always” as Best Writing in a Drama.

That image, of Kyle Chandler (truly not expecting to win), and the favorite, Jon Hamm truly looking stunned he didn’t, keeps staying with me.

That, and the Best Actress in a Comedy beauty contest pageant lineup (dreamed up by Amy Poehler and Martha Plimpton) that ended up with long-overdue winner (for Gilmore Girls, not just Mike & Molly) Melissa McCarthy ending up with a tiara on her head, and roses in her hands, in addition to an Emmy.

Melissa McCarthy with a tiara. Kyle Chandler, nearly speechless. The good guys winning. That’s what this Emmys brought.

Many of my predictions (Peter Dinklage for Game of Thrones Best Supporting Actor, Drama; Julianna Margulies for Best Actress, Drama; Ty Burrell for Best Supporting Actor, Comedy) seemed easy to me, and came true (I had a 16-9 record). But it was the ones I thought were too good to actually happen that did.

Kyle Chandler, Melissa McCarthy. I had actually predicted “Always” to win Writing, but I thought it too sweet, too perfect to happen. Like Martin Scorcese, winning for Direction in Drama for Boardwalk Empire. It seemed like it must happen, I predicted it, but it seemed so far outside what everyone else was predicting.

I was wrong about Julie Bowen, though I was right about most of the rest of the Modern Family cavalcade. Both Jane Lynch and Julie Bowen triumphed thru being submitted on their competitors’ tapes this year. I’m really glad it was Bowen who pulled it out.

And when Peter Dinklage got up there (the common wisdom varied, usually centering on either John Slattery or Josh Charles), taking a statue for the Lannisters, all felt right with the world. So, too, when Margo Martindale (whom I also had predicted) got to the stage. It was like there was a collective “Awwww” heard all through Hollywood. Here was a working actress who had been one of those “jobbers” who’s constantly working in series after series, being recognized for what a great actress she actually is.

That was the tenor and the fabric of this year’s Emmys. No glossy winners who didn’t deserve it. Jeff Probst had won again at the Creative Arts Emmys last week (so very deserving). The Daily Show, deservedly, collected its stash of trophies. (So very deserving.) Kate Winslet and Guy Pearce, who made Mildred Pierce come alive, picked up theirs.

Stately Downtown Abbey won its share, including for Maggie Smith.

In fact, I can’t think of one winner where I thought, Oh, that’s so wrong, that person/show didn’t deserve it. And, for me, the ones I missed I credit to the fact that I hadn’t yet watched their tapes (Jim Parsons for Best Actor, Comedy; although everyone else was predicting Steve Carrell, anyway).

Let me speak to that for a moment. People who predict Emmys (for a living, even) often choose based on who is “due” or who seems to be hot at the moment. I believe firmly that the driving factor in choice is the tape in front of that Emmy voter, compared against the next tape. Perhaps, if, for example, Martha Plimpton and Melissa McCarthy both had brilliant and funny tapes, and a voter can’t decide, they will go to “Oh yeah, she’s been working in the industry for so long, she deserves it,” or “I loved her in Bridesmaids, so I’m going to pick her.” Perhaps it works like that. With the tape being 85% of the decision, and all things being equal, other factors being added in after that point.

Others, including big Emmy gurus, predict people like Steve Carrell because of the sentimentality, the picture they’d like to paint, that “well, it’s his last year on The Office,” of course people are finally going to give it to him.” I don’t think that factors in at all. (Or within 10-15%, at most.) I erred in my prognostications this year because I bought into the hype, thinking that Betty White, back together with Mary Tyler Moore in her tape, would be Emmy catnip.

Really, what counted was that in both Jane Lynch’s case and Julie Bowen’s case, they were on TWO tapes that Emmy voters watched. And since Lynch won last year, it was a simple choice.

I use these factors to make my Emmy prognostication better next time around.

But until then, go seek out Friday Night Lights, if you haven’t already. Cause you know: Clear eyes, Full hearts can’t lose. Congrats to all.

Emmy predictions 2011, part one: Comedy Series

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Emmy season is upon us again, and I’ve been deep in episodes, trying to view as much as humanly possible before those gold statues are handed out. I pretty much bombed my Creative Arts Emmy predix, but then, I don’t usually predict those, so I chalk that up to a learning experience. My stellar ace in the crown last week was predicting Hot in Cleveland for Art Direction. C’mon! Who else had that one?

But it’s this week’s awards, especially in this unpredictable year, that are going to really separate the true Emmy prognosticators from the slackers. I am gonig to give my full predictions in my podcast, which should be posted in the next couple of days, but I wanted to use this column to cover some aspects of the judging that have come up for me.

Once again, people do not seem to realize that you rise and fall, or Emmys are given, based on the episodes that you submit. This is true for actors, who submit one of their stellar performances from the season (which is then pitted against other actors also nominated), and it’s true for Series nominations. In both Comedy and Drama Series, the shows put together packages of six episodes. Three tapes, two on each. These are then randomly given to voting members, so they see one of each show, in various combinations, and then vote on which is best. It behooves people, then, to select their best episodes, AND their best shows paired together. Sometimes people seem to forget this.

And if you have storylines that carry over, it’s best to have it make sense. To have self-contained episodes, that aren’t reliant on you knowing the whole season and its intricacies. Lost lost out a few times due to that.

So I wanted to explore what those who’ve been watching TV all season already know. Here’s the way I judge it. You have six episodes. Three of those (by my rating system) have to be an A+ episode to win an Emmy. And even then, they also have to best your competitors’ A+ episodes. You pretty much have to have all A episodes to stay in the game. Anyone with a B episode or lower is out. Simple.

This year, I’ve done something different than I normally do. I’m trying to watch every episode in the Drama Series category that’s been submitted. (In some cases: Boardwalk Empire, Game of Thrones, Friday Night Lights, The Good Wife, Mad Men–it meant catching up with entire seasons of shows I was behind on; in other cases: Dexter–I have stopped watching any because the one I did watch (“Teenage Wasteland” which is a Series submission and Michael C. Hall’s submission) was so dreadful, C+ by my grades, I need go no further. Dexter is out. So is Michael C. Hall. Sorry, pal.

I feel really remiss in the Comedy category, and I may pay for it on Sunday. I am super behind (like more than a season) on both 30 Rock and The Office, so I’m not even factoring those in. I normally hate jumping into a season, without having seen the seasons before, so I’ve been hesitating about The Big Bang Theory, though I probably will watch their eps before Sunday.

The one big question mark is the wonderful show Parks and Recreation. I did catch up with the early seasons and it just keeps getting better and better. However, I have not, and will likely not, caught up with this Season before Sunday. If they win, I’ll be happy for them, but bummed that I didn’t have time to view these eps.

I want to focus in this blog post about two of the Comedy Series competitors that I have been spending quite a bit of time with. One that I think has no chance in hell of winning, and one that I think will win.

First up: Glee. Sigh. What the hell happened to you, Glee? There were so many things about Glee last year that I totally loved, but this year, WOW. It’s, as the kids say: “A hot mess.” That it got nominated astonishes me. (Where is Hot in Cleveland?)

But let’s take a look at it, shall we?

I’m still slogging through it. I have the last six eps to force down. Boy, has it been a tough slog this season. In fact, it’s been so jaw-droppingly awful, I would be hard-pressed to pick the worst moment of the season. Sue Sylvester marrying herself would be right up there. Characters were all over the place, bed-hopping with abandon. Mr. Shue even kissed the football coach (for no apparent reason). Sometimes people were gay, sometimes they weren’t. In much of the beginning of the season, the viciousness and hurtfulness was almost too much to bear. If I didn’t have Emmy predictions to do, I would’ve stopped back then.

Kurt goes to another school, cause he just can’t take the harrassment, then he gets ridiculed and put in his place (in a different way) at his new school. New characters get dropped into the story, also for no apparent reason. Emmy-winning Gwyneth Paltrow, whom I thought was just awful in the episode she won an Emmy for, actually comes back later in the season and redeems herself. Mr. Shue’s wife has all but disappeared. Shue and Emma had a hot wistful romance going at the end of Season 1, then she gets cold feet, then she takes up with AND MARRIES, completely out of the blue, a hot dentist. Then she’s not having sex with him, cause she really still loves Will. Yawn.

Very few parts of what any of these characters do is plausible. Their motivations change like the wind. Even the great dance and song numbers from last season have regressed to Top 40 pandering. The season included tracks from Ke$ha, Justin Bieber and My Chemical Romance instead of last season’s Streisand. (Are you puking yet? I certainly was.) The episode, Original Song, mind-bogglingly one of the episodes they submitted for consideration, included songs written (supposedly) by the students themselves. I think those were even worse than the Bieber stuff.

The lip-synching is out of control. Even Sue Sylvester was dancing and singing in a song. She was the most all over the place this season. She has Cheerios, then she has none. She was on TV, then she wasn’t. She hates Will, then she goes with him to see some sick kids sing, and nearly cries. And if she wins another Emmy this year (which she very likely will) I think I’ll cry. (Listen to my podcast, MBH116, for more on that fiasco.)

But, in the midst of all that real dreck and pablum, there are moments of absolute brilliance. The entire Rocky Horror Glee Show was genius, from start to finish. Shue and Emma do a fabulous “Touch-a, Touch-a, Touch Me” then they all come to their senses and realize, “Oops this is a high school. This is too racy.” So they can’t perform it. Even though they already have.

It’s just stuff like that. Eye-rolling constantly.

But then you have a beat-for-beat recreation of Donald O’Connor’s “Make ‘Em Laugh” which just took my breath away. Excellent stuff.

I also loved how the hot stud falls in love with the “fat chick.” He sings a rowdy and wonderful version of Queen’s “Fat-Bottomed Girls,” which anyone would be complimented to have sung to them, but said girl gets offended. Yet, later in the season, when he sings her a much more offensive song about fatness that he “wrote,” she loves it.

The saddest thing about Glee’s contention at the Emmys is that they didn’t even INCLUDE the Rocky Horror Glee Show as their Emmy submission. So, to my eyes, Glee is out.

GLEE
Tape 1: “Audition” = B/“Silly Love Songs” = A
Tape 2: “Original Song” = C+/”The Substitute” = B+
Tape 3: “Duets” = B/“Never Been Kissed” = A (their strongest tape)

Compare this to a show that, in its second season, only built on and improved the amazing stuff they brought us in their first season. I am talking, of course, about the show I believe will take its second Emmy for Comedy Series: Modern Family.

MODERN FAMILY
Tape 1: “Old Wagon” = A/”Someone to Watch Over Lily” = TBA
Tape 2: “Mother’s Day” = TBA/”Caught in the Act” = TBA
Tape 3: “Manny, Get Your Gun” = A+/”The Kiss” = A (their strongest tape)

Creative fever dream Swans into Best Picture

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Reviewers who write about movies for a living, who have to slog through every paint-by-numbers adaptation, seem to have difficulty with two things: spirituality in movies, and the creative process in movies. Mind you, there aren’t that many movies about either of those two things because they are also ephemeral streaks of lightning to capture in the film bottle.

What I had read about “Black Swan” prior to seeing it fluctuated on the spectrum from horror flick to Grand Guignol theatre to thriller to scary movie. In short, I really didn’t know what to expect. Perhaps it will be one or some of those things to you, too.

How I perceived “Black Swan” was more like a dream. The dream, the central focus for this ballerina, is to be perfect. And she studies and she plies and she does everything she thinks she’s supposed to do.

But when the company leader decides to do “Swan Lake,” he presents her with this challenge: “You’d be great as the White Swan.” But, essentially, she doesn’t have enough of a dark side to do the Black Swan justice. (This lead character in the ballet performs both sides of a complex persona.)

“Black Swan,” then, is about this striving-for-perfection ballerina figuring out what it takes to reach her own “dark side.” What she discovers is that passion and the thrill of life often lie in its imperfections. As we travel with her on her journey, we also discover what is at the heart of the creative process, how far someone can push themselves for their art.

It is a stunning bravura performance. Prior to seeing the film, I posited on my podcast that Natalie Portman was going to take every award in sight this Oscar season. I think so even moreso after seeing the film. Like Christoph Waltz and Mo’Nique last year, every other Best Actress contender this year can just sit down. It’s Natalie Portman’s year. Her work in this movie is stunning. In fact, I can’t remember the last time an actress was so stunning and superb and affecting. Brilliant work.

Her supporting cast is also affecting and may glean some supporting nominations: Vincent Cassel as the ballet company director, Barbara Hershey as her mom, Mila Kunis as a fellow dancer. Winona Ryder takes an especially inspired turn, making a droll commentary on her own life, that elicited laughs in our industry screening.

People have also made reference to an “All About Eve” subtext. That is only there in as much as fearing other people taking roles you covet is part of the creative process. It’s really and truly not about that.

In fact, I think where reviewers get into trouble with this role, and even the screening I saw this at, the questioner had the same problem–is dissecting it too much. Think of it as a dream. Roll around with the images, go with the flights of fancy. True creativity isn’t that far from the dream state, and true creativity borders on that part of the brain near psychosis too. But don’t let that analysis hinder you.

As Nina had to learn, with sex, with dreaming, with life, sometimes you just have to let it flow over you and become part of you. So, too, with “Black Swan.”