Rachel, Rachel, Rachel! What are you doing? You slay the world in 2005 and then fall off the face of the Earth, only to show up to the Critics Choice Awards looking like a Gwen Stefani stalker of the week. Despite popular opinoin, Gwen Stefani is not someone you want to aspire to be. Her music is kitschy, not memorable. You starred in the best romance and the best comedy of the last decade. Her husband is way un-talented, while your fiancee is crazy good at his job. At this point, Gwen will always be considered a fashion statement before an actual artist. You, on the other hand, have a chance to be in the top shelve of actors for your generation. But not if you continue down this path of not making movies and looking fugly.
You’re supposed to be classy; the antithesis of all the no-talent, skazzy Celebritard-wastoids clogging the internets (ahem, Tara Reid, ahem). You’re not supposed to attend social functions looking like Gwen’s slightly dykey third cousin. Your Notebook goodwill only extends so far, and the clock is ticking. So stop it. Seriously.
You were The Next! Get it together and start making some movies again, goddamn it!
I just read on PopWatch that Kelly Ripa is planning on airing her first Botox injection live on Regis & Kelly. While the EW.com is adamant against watching her to do this, I say what day does it air? I’ve always been intrigued by the inane and sometimes arcane things celebrities will do to make themselves younger, thinner and prettier. We always hear rumors about wacky beauty regiments, oddball diets (like Billy Bob only eating things that are orange), and other more absurd personal lifestyle practices (hello, gerbil). I commend Ripa for leading the charge in documenting her desperate attempt to remain Couric-style perky for another decade or so.
It may not get me to watch her show (Regis’s steadfast refusal to decompose like a good little corpse has become more frustrating than its worth), but it has got me thinking what other odd celebrity practices I’d like to see live on the air.
Maybe something like…
Donald Trump combing his hair on the next episode of The Apprentice.
Isaiah Washington doing anything on any episode of any show on The Logo.
Ryan Seacrest flat-ironing his hair and practicing “Simon Sucks!” insults into a mirror before an episode of American Idol.
Oprah Winfrey burning piles of cash on her show just for funsies (btw, Happy Birthday Oprah! Please don’t sue me!).
Orlando Bloom talking about his “process” on Inside the Actor’s Studio (and James Lipton subsequently falling asleep).
Barbara Walters unlatching her jaw and swallowing Rosie O’Donnell whole on The View.
Owen Wilson showing off his, ahem, “Butterscotching” skills, on Conan.
Sharon Stone searing the flesh off of Sudanese refugee babies to make the cream for her daily anti-mummification skin peel, done for a beauty segment on The Tyra Banks Show.
Lindsay Lohan high-kicking on The Insider. Oh wait, I already saw that…
Sylvester Stallone rubbing HGH cream on his old man thighs during a training montage of an episode of The Contender.
Nicole Ritchie and The Olsen Twins eating lunch on Emeril.
Nicole Ritchie and The Olsen Twins “working off” their lunch on NBC’s The Biggest Loser.
Charlie Sheen chatting with hookers online for G4’s Tech TV.
Tara Reid’s routine Sunday morning walk of shame on Entertainment Tonight.
Jennifer Aniston getting her nose done on Mtv’s “I Want A Famous Face!”: Angelina Jolie Edition.
According to media reports, famed question mark-sexual / crazy person / sometime actress, Anne Heche, has left Coley Lafoon, her husband of five years, and begun shacking up with her Men in Trees co-star James Tupper. Notice something: there’s a lot going on in that sentence.
Anne Heche, in her non-infinite non-wisdom broke up her family to bone a fourth billed TV star, adding another to an already long list of reasons her child will need extensive psychotherapy.
She continues her crazy streak by leaving her baby daddy to hook up with a co-star who will inevitably drop her on her nutball head the moment ABC gets bored of their show and the cast moves on to other projects.
The non-brilliant co-star, James Tupper, knowing all that he must about his new paramour, agreed to this decision. She must be crazy good in bed (pun totally intended), or he’s hoping for some lesbian relapse threesome action for him to feel confident in breaking up a family, even one as potentially nuts as the Heche-Lafoon home.
The producers of Men in Trees are doing nothing to stop this eight-car pile up. They have a confirmed crazy person as their star and they’re letting her fuck up her personal life to bone her professional life co-star. Man alive, they need some producing lessons. You don’t let alcoholics go to a bar. You don’t let diabetics go to the jelly bean factory. And you don’t let Anne Heche near the crazy pills.
Am I surprised by any of this? Absolutely not. It’s Anne Heche, after all; she of the sudden lesbianism, and more-sudden heterosexuality sequel. She of the alter ego “Celestia”, the autobiography “Call Me Crazy” (hello!), and the claims of being descended from extraterrestrials. Also, she was in that shitty Harrison Ford island movie.
When you’re dealing with Anne Heche you know what you’re gonna get, and in some respects, that’s kinda nice. You know you’re getting a very pretty, (in a slightly mousy way) above-average actress who at any time may decide to go walking in the desert for a week, speak all of her dialogue in a space language, or bang the script girl or best boy depending on what she had for lunch that day. Basically, you wager all of her talent against the risk of the crazy. A lot of people take that bet and do well. I thought she was great in Wag the Dog, Birth, Donnie Brasco, Volcano, Return to Paradise and Volcano (suck it, Dante’s Peak). But whomever puts their chips down on the Heche line has got to keep in mind what they may potentially lose, should they win (This contradiction is much like the Rosie Perez theory of winning and losing from White Men Can’t Jump, except Anne is infinitely less annoying.).
And this why I have no sympathy for Coley Lafoon.
I mean he married her; it’s like he was asking for it! He married her less than a year after she stopped rug-munching America’s favorite gay day time talk show hostess. He married her after watching her be interviewed by Barbara Walters, where it came out that she had been mentally ill for the first 31 years of her life. He married her after he had met Celestia. With all that knowledge in his head, you have to assume (or hope) that he figured something bad might happen down the road.
This story is just a microcosm for the way we must all treat famous/crazy people. You take all the knowledge gained from seeing their work, their social life and their behavior in the media and you make the conscious decision to accept their bullshit and allow them into your life, or you tell them to sell their crazy someplace else. Coley Lafoon had to expect that Anne Heche would screw him over somehow, at some point. He just had to. I remind you, this was not a stable person. Not even by Robert Downey Jr. standards.
That got me thinking about other people who have no right to complain about their problems. For example, does Jennifer Aniston really have a reason to complain about her marriage falling apart? She married the sexiest man alive and then let him make a movie with the hottest creature on earth. What did she expect was gonna happen? That their respective hotnesses would be repelled like the plus sides of two magnets? She brought this on her self the moment she became Brad Pitt’s lady.
While Anne Heche continues to entertain us with her total psycho-crazery (and not entertain us with her wannabe Northern Exposure dramedy), let’s take a look at some other people with no right to complain (after the jump).
I’ve been finding myself enjoying the trailers for Eddie Murphy’s new “I can’t believe I’m in a Martin Lawrence Big Momma rip off two weeks before the Oscars. Maybe I should congratulate Alan Arkin in advance” comedy Norbit. Obviously, this concerns me greatly. I generally hate Men-In-Drag movies. And I downright loathe Men-In-Big-Women Drag movies. I don’t so much mind seeing Tom Hanks or Kurt Russell play the
“wow, that’s an ugly girl” bit for laughs (though Wesley Snipes and The Swayze in Too Wong Foo may have tried my patience a bit too far), but there’s something repugnant about comedians trying to wring laughs out of how grotesque a fat body looks. Robin Williams couldn’t do it for me, and neither could Martin Lawrence (either time). But for some reason, Norbit looks different.
Maybe I’m just more loyal to Eddie. Maybe I’m just hoping he’ll finally make me laugh again (I think the last time was my second viewing of Bowfinger back in 2002). Speaking of, whatever happened to Heather Graham? She was consistently great in a slew of movies and then out of nowhere she was on career life support. She went from stealing Boogie Nights away from Burt and Marky Mark to doing softcore nude scenes and guest starring on Scrubs, in like fourteen seconds. Who decided her time was up? She didn’t get heavy like Alicia Silverstone and she didn’t get boring like Natasha Henstridge, so what gives? Hollywood always trashes my favorite blonde hotties. I think somewhere there’s a landfill full of all the once-hot blonde actresses who now have no star power. That would be a hot (though probably high-maintenance) garbage dump. And if I had to guess who runs that landfill, I’d put my money on Sandra Bullock. How else can you explain her still making movies? This landfill idea definitely deserves its own column at some point.
But back to Eddie.
His continued relevance really speaks to how awesome he once was, and how desperately we hope he’ll be awesome again. I can’t think of another actor who has delivered such unrepentantly mediocre family tripe, and yet we support them on the off-chance they will one day take the shackles off and say the f-word in a Rated-R movie again. Some people miss Chris Farley. Some people miss The Chappelle Show. I miss Eddie Murphy doing blue comedy. Do I think Norbit is his long-hoped for return to edgy comedy? Not for a second. If he even says damn more than twice I’d be shocked. But maybe Dreamgirls changed him.
I hope, for his sake, that the James “Thunder” Early awards attention has made him realize he can still appeals to the adult demographic, and that he starts catering to it immediately. The success of the Shrek films only clouded his perspective. After watching those flicks make eleventy billion dollars at the box office, what yes man was really going to step up and say “Eddie, seriously, the kiddie stuff isn’t working. What about a Harlem Nights 2?” But Dreamgirls is that first ray of sunshine pushing through the clouds. And I think Norbit is the full parting of the sky. And that’s the man reason I’m supporting this flick.
I can’t imagine the embarrassment he must feel after finally receiving mass critical support and industry-wide recognition for his acting abilities, only to be forced to promote a P.O.S. Nutty Professor-clone that has no business on his new resume. His agents should be shot. Dreamgirls was on the Oscar short list before Eddie even signed on. They must have seen the dailies, or heard the buzz from the set. If they had any confidence in his performance, or in the awards chances of the movie itself, they would have pushed for Norbit to be moved back (or even shelved). Sure, Norbit is right in Eddie’s wheelhouse (nobody plays an entire cast better than Eddie) and will probably do great at the box office (what’s its competition, that Hugh Grant / Drew Barrymore musical romcom? Please.), but all the goodwill and momentum generated by the surprise Globe win and Oscar nod is derailed by the America’s collective groan of “oh, there goes Eddie doing tripe again. Somebody call Dr. Docrappy”.
I’m posting these press materials as a mitzvah to Eddie. It’s my way of saying thank you for finally being awesome again in a movie; and of begging him to stop doing stuff like Norbit, and more stuff like Dreamgirls. And my eternal hope that a little love from The Jay means he won’t unleash Beverly Hills Cop 4 on us. I’m just not ready for another Judge Reinhold era.
The Norbit Trailer:
Click the picture to go to the Norbit official site where you can send people e-cards with random faces superimposed over Eddie’s. I had a nice sized guffaw by putting Donald Trump’s face over the Norbit Character Rosie O’Donnell’s ugly mug over the Eddie Fat Woman character. I finally found a use out of those two idiots.
Here are two more exclusive clips from the movie:
Norbit is due to be released on February 9th.
And just in case you’ve forgotten what it sounds like, here’s what Eddie Murphy when he’s dropping f-bombs and actually being funny:
My goal is to see 150 movies in theaters this year. It’s a lofty, expensive, time-consuming goal but one that I have no intention of failing. Do you know why? Because I will see anything. You put two people in front of a camera picking their noses and eating it, I’m there. I am notorious for seeing the lowest of studio drivel, to the point where my Dad bought me an awesomely bad blaxploitation flick for Hanukkah just to see if I’d watch it. And I did. For twenty minutes anyway.
I just love watching movies. John Tucker Must Die? Why not! Firewall? Where’s it playing? She’s The Man? Happy to pay full price! I enjoy seeing bad movies. I learn more watching crap than I do watching quality. You can see where things went wrong; where the director screwed up the coverage and the editor had to make due, where the actor zoned out mid-scene to think about what club to hit that night, where the story just plain doesn’t make sense and they’re covering by showing good-looking people just standing around looking pretty, or anytime Orlando Bloom shows up. Why would I want to watch Inside Man, a well-made film done by consummate professionals, when I could spend the time laughing at Employee of the Month, a film so bad the celluloid itself is embarrassed by its awfulness?
I’m not without a desire to see quality. I just need that quality to be my kind of quality. The films I look forward to aren’t always the same as your average every day movie geek. I’m not THAT excited for Transformers. I’m blasé about Spider-Man 3. And I could give a shit about Pirates 3, Shrek the Third, Rush Hour 3, or The Bourne Ultimatum. I’m looking forward to quirky indies starring cool actors, big “trainwreck potential” summer blockbusters, and awesomely put together dramas.
So in an effort to help you get to know my tastes better, here’s a look at the 17 films I’m most looking forward to in 2007 (in descending order):
Honorable Mention: Blades of Glory
Take a look at this hilarious trailer and prepare for an a-ton load of “magic junk” references for the next 365.
17. The Assassination of Jesse James By the Coward James Ford
Quite possibly the most awesome title of any flick coming out this year. I dig seeing stars do westerns (this slot could have easily been taken by the Russell Crowe/Christian Bale duster, 3:10 To Yuma), and it’s always fun to see what actors look like with dirty facial hair. Brad Pitt, for example, looks great with his Jesse James dirty ‘stache. A stellar cast (Pitt, Sam Rockwell, Casey Affleck, Zooey Deschanel, Mary Louise Parker) and a kick title make a movie I anticipate, plain and simple.
16. American Gangster
Denzel Washington as a drug kingpin, Russell Crowe as the cop tasked with taking him down, Ridley Scott directing AND it’s set in the 70’s? Looks like somebody stole all the cool points from the awesome jar.
15. The Other Boleyn Girl
Natalie Portman AND Scarlet Johansson? On-screen together? Um, yes please. I could watch them braid each others hair for two hours and feel like I got full value out of my ticket. In fact, I kinda hope this flick IS about them braiding each others hair. Also, Eric Bana kicks ass and I’m kinda curious to see which of the two hotties he ends up with. My money’s on Portman, she’s a scrapper. I kinda think Scarlet would fold like an US Weekly if you fronted her.
14. Transformers the Movie
Ok, I am looking forward to it, just not THAT much. I don’t get my geek up over the changes Michael Bay is making; after all, Transformers wasn’t sacred text, it was a fucking 80’s cartoon show made to sell toys! Now if he were doing Voltron I’d be a little more emotionally invested. I’ll be there opening day, I’ll enjoy the giant robot fighting action and I’ll go home. And I will have been thankful I didn’t get into the hate ring with all the loser geeks who snot up the AICN chat boards. Seriously people, it’s an 80’s cartoon show about giant fucking robots. Let’s get some perspective.
13. The Darjeeling Limited
I’ll see any movie Wes Anderson ever makes. Period.
12. Southland Tales
I didn’t love Donnie Darko, director Richard Kelly’s first film, but I’m intrigued by his follow up. The cast is particularly peculiar: Seann William Scott, The Rock, Sarah Michelle Gellar (as a pornstar!), Kevin Smith, Mandy Moore, Jon Lovitz, Justin Timberlake and Christopher Lambert (The Rock vs. The Highlander would be so tight). It’s apparently a futuristic musical set in The Valley about a porn star doing a reality show and some big government conspiracy. I have no idea what to make of that description. Early reactions by those who have seen it say it’s either fantastic or it “completely sucks balls”. Like I said, I don’t know, but I’m intrigued.
11. 300
Full disclosure: I wasn’t a fan of Sin City. I liked the visuals and appreciated the style, but the writing was weak and the story was thin. Only half the actors were any good (hi Bruce! Holla Mickey Rourke! You suck, Alba!), and I was only really entertained by the Mickey Rourke story. 300, on the other hand, is a whole different ball of awesome. Same visual style, but a much better story. 300 Spartan soldiers taking on 1 million Persian warriors is something I want to see. What I’ve caught so far has been as beautiful, intense and flat out “cool” as anything I’ve seen in a decade. If this film doesn’t make serious MFU money, I’d be gobsmacked.
10. Black Snake Moan
I have a lot of reasons for wanting to see this flick, not least of which is that Christina Ricci spends the majority of the movie in a, ahem, near naked state. Other reasons to watch: now that Alpha Dog has been released, can Justin Timberlake prove that his one good performance wasn’t just a fluke? Will this finally be the film that gets Samuel L. Jackson off my “My Most Unwatchable Actors in Hollywood” list? Did I mention Christina Ricci is playing a nymphomaniac chained to a radiator, dressed only in a dirty tee and boy shorts? Seriously, it doesn’t take much to get me into a theater. But a sweaty, sex-starved, clothes-less Wednesday Addams will definitely do the trick.
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When you’re dealing with Anne Heche you know what you’re gonna get, and in some respects, that’s kinda nice. You know you’re getting a very pretty, (in a slightly mousy way) above-average actress who at any time may decide to go walking in the desert for a week, speak all of her dialogue in a space language, or bang the script girl or best boy depending on what she had for lunch that day. Basically, you wager all of her talent against the risk of the crazy. A lot of people take that bet and do well. I thought she was great in Wag the Dog, Birth, Donnie Brasco, Volcano, Return to Paradise and Volcano (suck it, Dante’s Peak). But whomever puts their chips down on the Heche line has got to keep in mind what they may potentially lose, should they win (This contradiction is much like the Rosie Perez theory of winning and losing from White Men Can’t Jump, except Anne is infinitely less annoying.).
That got me thinking about other people who have no right to complain about their problems. For example, does Jennifer Aniston really have a reason to complain about her marriage falling apart? She married the sexiest man alive and then let him make a movie with the hottest creature on earth. What did she expect was gonna happen? That their respective hotnesses would be repelled like the plus sides of two magnets? She brought this on her self the moment she became Brad Pitt’s lady.
I’ve been finding myself enjoying the trailers for Eddie Murphy’s new “I can’t believe I’m in a Martin Lawrence Big Momma rip off two weeks before the Oscars. Maybe I should congratulate Alan Arkin in advance” comedy Norbit. Obviously, this concerns me greatly. I generally hate Men-In-Drag movies. And I downright loathe Men-In-Big-Women Drag movies. I don’t so much mind seeing Tom Hanks or Kurt Russell play the
“wow, that’s an ugly girl” bit for laughs (though Wesley Snipes and The Swayze in Too Wong Foo may have tried my patience a bit too far), but there’s something repugnant about comedians trying to wring laughs out of how grotesque a fat body looks. Robin Williams couldn’t do it for me, and neither could Martin Lawrence (either time). But for some reason, Norbit looks different.
But back to Eddie.
My goal is to see 150 movies in theaters this year. It’s a lofty, expensive, time-consuming goal but one that I have no intention of failing. Do you know why? Because I will see anything. You put two people in front of a camera picking their noses and eating it, I’m there. I am notorious for seeing the lowest of studio drivel, to the point where my Dad bought me an awesomely bad blaxploitation flick for Hanukkah just to see if I’d watch it. And I did. For twenty minutes anyway.
Natalie Portman AND Scarlet Johansson? On-screen together? Um, yes please. I could watch them braid each others hair for two hours and feel like I got full value out of my ticket. In fact, I kinda hope this flick IS about them braiding each others hair. Also, Eric Bana kicks ass and I’m kinda curious to see which of the two hotties he ends up with. My money’s on Portman, she’s a scrapper. I kinda think Scarlet would fold like an US Weekly if you fronted her.
I didn’t love Donnie Darko, director Richard Kelly’s first film, but I’m intrigued by his follow up. The cast is particularly peculiar: Seann William Scott, The Rock, Sarah Michelle Gellar (as a pornstar!), Kevin Smith, Mandy Moore, Jon Lovitz, Justin Timberlake and Christopher Lambert (The Rock vs. The Highlander would be so tight). It’s apparently a futuristic musical set in The Valley about a porn star doing a reality show and some big government conspiracy. I have no idea what to make of that description. Early reactions by those who have seen it say it’s either fantastic or it “completely sucks balls”. Like I said, I don’t know, but I’m intrigued.
I have a lot of reasons for wanting to see this flick, not least of which is that Christina Ricci spends the majority of the movie in a, ahem, near naked state. Other reasons to watch: now that Alpha Dog has been released, can Justin Timberlake prove that his one good performance wasn’t just a fluke? Will this finally be the film that gets Samuel L. Jackson off my “My Most Unwatchable Actors in Hollywood” list? Did I mention Christina Ricci is playing a nymphomaniac chained to a radiator, dressed only in a dirty tee and boy shorts? Seriously, it doesn’t take much to get me into a theater. But a sweaty, sex-starved, clothes-less Wednesday Addams will definitely do the trick.
