Classic TV Theme of the Month - January 2015

What classy opening credits there used to be.   And check out this later season version for "Designing Women."   It wasn't that long ago and already we've lost Dixie Carter, Jan Hooks, Meshach Taylor, and Ray Charles.

Dinner last night:   Leftover pasta and broccoli.

Your Weekend Movie Guide for January 2015

My home away from home.   And this is the time of year to go to this industry-oriented movie complex in Hollywood.  The Oscar nominations are out.  The voters are out in droves.   And, while you might not necessarily recognize the faces around you, there is a sense that they all work in the film business.  And have Oscar ballots at home.

So, we're lucky these days because the Oscar nominees give us something to see.   But, count on it, there's also plenty of junk out there.  You know the drill, folks.  I'll sift through the LA Times entertainment pages and give you my knee-jerk reaction to what's playing.  A lot of it has already been reviewed on these blog pages.   But, then again, there are always new surprises.

And nightmares.

The Hobbit - The Battle of the Five Armies:   I am happily continuing my long standing tradition of avoiding any movies done from J.R.R. Tolkien books.

Exodus - Gods and Kings:  And it is written:  Thou shalt not see this.

Top Five:   Review coming.  I am backlogged after the holidays.  Please be patient.  Your readership is important to me.

Mr.  Turner:  See Top Five.

Big Eyes:  See Top Five and Mr. Turner.

Foxcatcher:   Reviewed here.  My eyelids have been drooping ever since.

Wild:  See Top Five, Mr. Turner, and Big Eyes.

The Gambler:  A remake of the 1974 film.   I didn't see that one either.

Still Alice:  Julianne Moore trying to remember how to win an Oscar as she portrays a woman who forgets her name.

A Most Violent Year:  I thought that was 1968, but these filmmakers apparently have other years in mind.

Annie:   Reviewed here recently.   Avoid it like it's the Ebola virus.

The Interview:   Reviewed here recently.  My e-mail address has not been hacked...yet.

Let's Kill Ward's Wife:   OMG.  June Cleaver??!!!

Selma:   And here I thought this was a documentary about the female comedy writer who worked for Sid Caesar.

Night at the Museum - Secret of the Tomb:   Is there a viable reason to continue this film franchise?   This movie is noteworthy because it includes the final screen appearances of Robin Williams and Mickey Rooney.

Taken 3:  Liam Neeson in another action thriller.   Surprise?   Anybody?

The Woman in Black 2 - Angel of Death:  You mean there was a first installment?  

Song of the Sea:   I have no clue what this is, but it reminds me that Disney still has not released Song of the South on DVD.

The Imitation Game:  Reviewed here recently.   A perfect, old-fashioned "let's get a leg up on the Nazis" thriller.

Into the Woods:  Still on my list to see.   At which time a review will be written and posted here.   Probably after I post my reviews of  Top Five, Mr. Turner, Big Eyes, and Wild.

American Sniper:  See what I just wrote for Into the Woods.  Ditto.

Paddington:  That damn bear.

Unbroken:   So you thought the North Koreans were an angry lot?   Wait till you hear what Japan did during WWII.

Inherent Vice:  Paul Thomas Anderson takes another look at 70s Los Angeles.   You get the impression he has access to a wardrobe department that has lots of bell bottom pants?

Little Accidents:  A mining disaster.   Which strikes me that the title is supposed to be ironic.

Blackhat:  A huge cyber crime.  Is this being released by Sony?

The Wedding Ringer:   Who is Kevin Hart and why does he get movie roles?

Match:  No clue, except I'd only be interested if it starred Brett Somers, Charles Nelson Reilly, and Fannie Flagg.

Loitering With Intent:  FYI, it's not a documentary about the occupy movement.

Zero Motivation:   What I feel about most of these movies listed here.

Black November:  A rebellion in Nigeria.  It stars Mickey Rourke, Kim Basinger, and Anne Heche who are all about as Nigerian as I am.

Diving Normal:  A graphic novelist fights for a beautiful woman.  Just how graphic does he get?

Druid Peak:   A teenager tracks wolves in Wyoming.  And you thought they were all glued to their Smart Phones?

Spare Parts:  Four Latino high school students battle MIT in a robotics competition.   Jamie Lee Curtis is listed in the cast.  Expect some product placement for Activia.

Three Night Stand:  Virtually never happens.

The Touch of an Angel:  This is a documentary about the German persecution of Jews during the 1930s.  In case you thought it had anything remotely to do with that old TV show.

Son of a Gun:   That would be a pistol.

Pretty Rosebud:  Paging the estate of Orson Welles.

Appropriate Behavior:   Rarely found on this blog, thank goodness.

Vice: The logline sounds like this is an updating of Westworld.   Bruce Willis is in it.  You've been warned.

Leviathan:  A Golden Globe winner from Russia.  That's enough to scare me away.

Predestination:  Ethan Hawke is a time traveler.   He's probably just happy to finish one movie that didn't take twelve years to film.

Two Days, One Night:  The French version of Up in the Air.   Marion Cotillard plays a woman who loses her job.  Je suis Unemployed.

The World Made Straight:  Looking at that title, you wouldn't expect that this is about some folks in a rural Appalachian community.

Dinner last night:  Pasta with broccoli, garlic, and olive oil.



 

The Honeymoon Is Not Over

Here is your intrepid Broadway reviewer catching up on a show I saw during my NY holiday trip.  Luckily, this show was still in previews and doesn't open officially until tonight, I believe.  So, I am still ahead of the curve with this critique.

So, there are probably two dozen reasons why I would hate the new Broadway musical "Honeymoon in Vegas."  Okay, it's based on a movie from the early 90s that I think I saw but I barely remember.  It's set in Las Vegas, a city I have little use for.  Well, frankly, I might if I ever chose to go there.  But, I have not.  It sports a TV star, Tony Danza, as one of its leads and this move clearly smacks of what Broadway has become---a diversion for couch potatoes/tourists from Nebraska who are looking to kill time at a matinee before their dinner at the Olive Garden overlooking Times Square.

Yep, I could give you all those reasons why I would hate this show.

But, you're not going to get them.  Because, shut my mouth, I loved "Honeymoon In Vegas."  I think it will be a hit when it opens and run for a few years and then go on a national tour and perhaps earn Tony Danza a Tony nomination.

So, there!

I was literally jaw-to-the-floor astonished how clever and funny this show was.  Admittedly, it's total musical comedy comfort food---meat loaf served with a Vegas-like orchestra.  As you watch the story unfold and the songs play out, "Honeymoon In Vegas" actually comes off like a Broadway production that might have been produced in 1963 with Dick Van Dyke in the lead role.  But, for me, there is nothing wrong with a basic, good old Broadway musical.  No rock music.  No super hero flying.  No lion heads on long poles.  Nope, this is as basic as it gets.  

And bless God for that simplicity.

The plot seemed all too new to me, despite the fact that I think I saw the original movie twenty years ago.   Andrew Bergman, who wrote and directed the film, is responsible for the musical's book and clearly he has taken a fresh look at his own work.  The dialogue is hilarious and, more importantly, the songs feature an off-the-wall humor that would make Mel Brooks blush.

If you don't know the tale or, like me, barely remember it, Jack Singer is a New Yorker who has been reluctant to marry his patient and long-suffering girlfriend because of a curse his mother bestowed upon him on her death bed.   By the way, Mom, despite being dead, pops up frequently and hilariously throughout the evening.  Well, anyway, Jack decides to tempt fate and marry his Betsy on a quick weekend in Vegas.

We get Las Vegas with all the chintzy trappings of a sleazy nightclub singer, White trash tourists, and the resident card shark/gambler/millionaire played by Danza.  He is immediately taken by Betsy who is the spitting image of his dead wife who died from skin cancer from too much sun at the pool.  That whole back story is recounted in a comical song and I've never thought I'd laugh so hard at lyrics about melanoma.

Before you know, there is a romantic triangle and we are winging off to Hawaii for even more fun and frivolity.  There's a lusty Hawaiian tour guide, the famed Garden of Disappointed Moms, and finally a plane of parachuting Elvis Presley impersonators.  

Sounds goofy?   It wonderfully is.  There is not a missed beat or an opportunity for a joke that goes wasted.  You leave the theater smiling and it's been an awfully long time since I could say that.

Tony Danza is marvelous.  He can sing and tap dance, for Pete's sake.  Ironically, while all his "Taxi" and "Who's The Boss" co-stars have faded into oblivion or network radio or Lifetime movies, he is powering on and performing away.  Good for him.  As good as he is, Rob McClure as Jack is even better with a performance that just might have him battling Danza for a Tony Award.  From the Playbill, I see that McClure has worked steadily in the theater.   But now, he just might be a star.  The same can be said for Brynn O'Malley as Betsy, who does yeomen work here as well.

If there was one downside to the whole evening, it's the seating at the Nederlander Theater.   It's just one more ancient Broadway house built for people under 5 foot 2.  The only person that possibly will be comfortable there is Danny DeVito, when he comes to check out his "Taxi" buddy in this show.  

Even worse was the seat I had in the front row of the mezzanine.  It's perfect only for dwarfs.  And certainly not for anybody who's had meniscus surgery within the last decade.  I actually moved for the second act into an unoccupied box at the side, where my only discomfort was worrying whether or not I would be shot in the head like Abe Lincoln.

But, "Honeymoon In Vegas" is so good that you will like it from any seat in the house.  

Dinner last night:  Leftover sausage and vegetables.

This Date in History - January 14

Happy birthday, Faye Dunaway.  This photo is obviously old because, well, so is she.

83BC:  MARK ANTONY IS BORN.

He looked nothing like either Marlon Brando or Richard Burton.

1301:  ANDREW III OF HUNGARY DIES, ENDING THE ARPAD DYNASTY IN HUNGARY.

Was Arpad anything like an iPad?

1539:  SPAIN ANNEXES CUBA.

There's rum to be had.

1639:  THE FUNDAMENTAL ORDERS, THE FIRST WRITTEN CONSTITUTION THAT CREATED A GOVERNMENT, IS ADOPTED IN CONNECTICUT.

Nobody remembers the Fundamental Orders.   But, then again, nobody remembers the real Constitution either.

1784:  RATIFICATION DAY IN THE US.  CONGRESS RATIFIES THE TREATY OF PARIS WITH GREAT BRITAIN.

And we care why?

1814:  FREDERICK VI OF DENMARK CEDES NORWAY TO SWEDEN IN RETURN FOR POMERANIA.

Somebody got stuck with some dogs.

1858:  NAPOLEON III OF FRANCE ESCAPES AN ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT.

Thanks to the 1858 version of Jack Bauer.

1892:  PRODUCER HAL ROACH IS BORN.

I have to stay home and grease Wheezer.

1906:  ACTOR WILLIAM BENDIX IS BORN.

And so Riley begins.

1907:  AN EARTHQUAKE IN KINGSTON, JAMAICA KILLS MORE THAN 1,000.

Change at Jamaica for Babylon and the coroner's office.

1915:  GAME SHOW PRODUCER MARK GOODSON IS BORN.

Waiting for Todman.

1933: THE CONTROVERSIAL BODYLINE CRICKET TACTICS USED BY DOUGLAS JARDINE'S ENGLAND PEAK WHEN AUSTRALIAN CAPTAIN BILL WOODFULL IS HIT OVER THE HEART.

I don't know what any of that means.

1941:  ACTRESS FAYE DUNAWAY IS BORN.

Why do I think that the nasty character she played in Network is really the way she is in real life?

1943:  JAPAN BEGINS OPERATION KE, THE SUCCESSFUL OPERATION TO EVACUATE ITS FORCES FROM GUADALCANAL.

Running like scared rabbits.

1943:  FRANKLIN ROOSEVELT AND WINSTON CHURCHILL BEGIN THE CASABLANCA CONFERENCE TO DISCUSS STRATEGY AND THE NEXT PHASE OF THE WAR.

They went to Rick's afterwards.

1943:  FRANKLIN ROOSEVELT BECOMES THE FIRST PRESIDENT OF THE US TO TRAVEL BY AIRPLANE WHILE IN OFFICE WHEN HE TRAVELS FROM MIAMI TO MOROCCO FOR THE CASABLANCA CONFERENCE.

All that WWII news in one day.  Must have kept Edward R. Murrow up all night.

1952: NBC'S LONG RUNNING MORNING SHOW TODAY DEBUTS WITH HOST DAVE GARROWAY.

Just in case you're confused and thought the first host was a chimp.

1954:  THE HUDSON MOTOR CAR COMPANY MERGES WITH NASH TO FORM THE AMERICAN MOTORS CORPORATION.

In about twenty years, makers of that piece of junk called the Gremlin.

1957:  ACTOR HUMPHREY BOGART DIES.

Bad news.   The good news?  Lauren Bacall now available.

1961:  ACTOR BARRY FITZGERALD DIES.

Going God's way.

1965:  SINGER JEANETTE MACDONALD DIES.

Ever seen one of her musicals with Nelson Eddy?   ZZZZzzzzzz.

1967:  THE HUMAN BE-IN TAKES PLACE N SAN FRANCISCO, LAUNCHING THE SUMMER OF LOVE.

Hey now.

1973: ELVIS PRESLEY'S CONCERT FROM HAWAII IS BROADCAST LIVE VIA SATELLITE AND SETS THE RECORD AS THE MOST WATCHED BROADCAST BY AN INDIVIDUAL ENTERTAINER IN TELEVISION HISTORY.

Take that, Taylor Swift.

1977:  ACTOR PETER FINCH DIES.

Just as he gets an Oscar nomination for Network.  And later wins.  And note that it happened on Faye Dunaway's birthday.  Don't you love this Wednesday feature?

1984:  BUSINESSMAN RAY KROC DIES.

Supersize that.

1986:  ACTRESS DONNA REED DIES.

It was a wonderful life.

2004:  THE NATIONAL FLAG OF THE REPUBLIC OF GEORGIA, THE SO-CALLED FIVE CROSS FLAG, IS RESTORED TO OFFICIAL USE AFTER A HIATUS OF SOME 500 YEARS.

I doubt any of the originals were still around.

2006:  ACTRESS SHELLEY WINTERS DIES.

After sleeping with practically everybody in Hollywood.

2009:  ACTOR RICARDO MONTALBAN DIES.

Including maybe him.

2013:  ACTOR CONRAD BAIN DIES.

After outliving two of the three kids on that damn Diff'rent Strokes sitcom.

Dinner last night:  Leftover turkey chili and salad.


 

The Sun Needs to Stay Hidden

For the very first ten seconds of the latest "Annie" reboot, we're in a good place.

After the Sony logo appears (I'd love to see the internal e-mails about this movie), we see a red-headed, freckle-faced girl in a red dress talking in front of her class about American history.   She sits down and then is replaced by our heroine Annie sporting a hair-do that even Diana Ross would refuse to wear.  And she starts to talk about Franklin Delano Roosevelt.  Okay, this longtime fan of the original Broadway musical is thinking, the producers actually remembered that the 32nd President of the United States was a major character of the show on stage.  

But, FDR's inclusion is simply an entry point for Annie to start lecturing her classmates about the evil 1% who run America.  And, with that, we're off to the race.   And please note that I made that word singular.

"Annie" has been inexplicably and insipidly been remade here to reflect "modern" times and the criminals doubling as filmmakers have effectively shot this wonderful story right in the head.  Talk about your hate crimes.   This is one perpetrated on an innocent movie audience.   In the theater I attended, Al Sharpton was nowhere to be found.

Watching this sewer back-up was heart sickening for yours truly.   The original Broadway show was one of my favorite nights in the theater.   The evening I saw it, Annie was played by Sarah Jessica Parker during those days when she was hanging around with a mutt and not Mr. Big.  The historical legs of the tale about this comic strip icon took us through the Great Depression and the early days of Roosevelt's New Deal.  Not only did you get some terrific theater moments, the kids you brought got a little education to boot.  And, while it wasn't perfect, the early 80s screen adaptation followed it to a tee.  I know lots of kids and adults who remember both editions fondly.

Those memories are now completely ruined.  Actually, they have been shit upon.   But, that should be no surprise when you look at all the assholes attached to the 2014 rendition.   Will Smith and his "wife" Jada Pinkett Smith.  Note the italics there.  Find your own personal Hollywood insider who will explain to you why their marriage is a complete sham.   Jay-Z also is one of the producers because, well, they needed somebody big to ruin perfectly good Broadway lyrics.   And he does.  The original songs that are left in are completely butchered.   And the new replacement tunes are absolutely hideous.  There's at least twenty-five minutes of screen time where the audience needs to be given Bose noise cancelling headphones.

Essentially, all these hacks plus the screenwriter/director, some schmuck named Will Gluck (oh, look, it rhymes) have updated and politicized and tinkered with a treasure so much that it's virtually unrecognizable.   This is one urban renewal project that shouldn't have gotten funding.  The once grand Broadway penthouse is now a tenement on 116th Street and Lenox.

Brought up to current day New York City, this Annie has lost complete heart and soul.  In fact, she's not even an orphan.  They call her a foster child.  Living under the care of Cameron Diaz (???!!) as former 90's rock star Colleen Hannigan (????!!!), Annie and the other foster children are cleaning floors and trying to stay out of the way.   Luckily, their memorable first act dance number has not been rewritten to be sung as "It's A Fucked Up Life."  Gee, I wonder how they missed out on that.  And, wait, isn't there a line in that song which says, "no one really gives a smidge if you're in an orphanage?"  

Jamie Foxx is this year's edition of Daddy Warbucks, a cell phone magnate (???!!!) running for NYC Mayor.  To gain some votes, he takes Annie under his wing and such a cheap political ploy is indeed the only honest moment in the movie.  One of my favorite numbers from the original is when Warbucks takes Annie on a tour of Manhattan while singing "NYC."   Well, in this version, Foxx sings something different and very badly as they take a helicopter ride around the city.  While we're all waiting for Sandy the dog to say "arf," most of us were getting ready to barf.  Meanwhile, Foxx is reduced to doing so many spit takes that you wonder if the film's technical advisor is Danny Thomas.

There are so many moments of lecturing that "Annie" feels like it was co-written by Reverend Jeremiah Wright.   Indeed, if it had gotten into production a few months later, I'm sure producers would have figured out a way for Annie to be accosted by a policeman.  Indeed, when this script showed up at the Sony gate, somebody really should have yelled "hands up, don't shoot." Shoot the script, I mean.

But, wait, there's more!

Annie winds up at a political fundraiser for her "daddy," and ends up singing some unintelligible torch song like Beyonce in front of a full orchestra.  Two minutes later into the movie, it's revealed that she can't read!  

Help?  Anybody???  Are there refunds available???

So, in this world of Annie, we have Twittering and blogging and so many timely references that the film will be essentially outdated by next Tuesday.   Meanwhile, at the end, there is a "24"-like chase scene that is so badly shot that somebody should notify the Cinematographers' union.  The chase is one minute at the George Washington Bridge and then inexplicably at Liberty State Park which is completely the other direction.

This is one of those movies which has so much bad stuff coming out of it that I really wish they would allow laptops at screenings.  Hey, I knew a funny blog piece would come out of it all.   But I didn't even imagine it would be this hateful and disastrous.  Sadly, I went with a good friend who brought her own daughter.   Now, the youngster liked it.  Of course, if you've never had gelato, Icee tastes perfectly fine.  But, I also told her that she should really see the stage musical if it ever shows up on tour.  That, my friends, is the real "Annie."

And, finally, a lesson to all involved.   Personally, I don't care whether Annie is white, black, brown, yellow, or chartreuse.  The story needs to be written color blind and kept as close to the original era as possible.

But, of course, no.   Not in Hollywood today.   And, especially not with the likes of Will Smith and Jay-Z at helm.  

Yep, there are some things that need to be left alone.

Arf.

LEN'S RATING:   Minus four stars.   The highest insult I can give it.

Dinner last night:  Chicken sausage, rice, and corn.

Monday Morning Video Laugh - January 12, 2015

Paul Lynde!  Donny Osmond!

Dinner last night:  Homemade turkey chili.

The Sunday Memory Drawer - The Spice of My Life

As I reflect on my life each and every Sunday, I'm frequently amazed how important some very inconsequential things have played in my past.

For instance, the movie time listings in the NY Daily News.  As a very young movie buff, I would love when my father would go down to the 241st Street news stand at night and bring up the "night owl" edition of the next day's paper.  There was virtually no timely news in it, but I didn't care.  I needed to digest the local theater movie times and plan out how to get my parents to take me to my next foray into the RKO Proctors or Loews of Mount Vernon, New York.

I was doing this at the age of five and it is primarily the reason why my reading skills were so accelerated that I skipped the first grade.

The same could be said for the TV Guide.   It came out every Wednesday and the bundle at Bob's Candy Store around the corner had been barely opened before I was walking out with next week's edition.  Heck, I had to plot seven nights of prime time viewing.  I had a whole grid set up in my bedroom that listed all of my favorite TV shows.  Plus I had to do the crossword puzzle.

I lived for Wednesdays.   My parents once subscribed to TV Guide via the mail.  It didn't show up until Thursday or...gasp...Friday.

That didn't work for me.  I somehow got that subscription rescinded pretty quickly. 

You would think that, with age, I would grow up a bit with this obsessive behavior.   

Er, not so much.

Once I got to the ninth grade, I was even more immersed in the entertainment world.  Back then, there was no Entertainment Weekly or Entertainment Tonight or TMZ.  Nope, my only source of information was...

Variety.

The show business bible.  Totally for insiders or people in the know.   

And me.  

I had learned about this industry newspaper from watching reruns of "I Love Lucy."   They were always talking about it in relation to Ricky's screen test in Hollywood or the new nightclub he was opening.  And, as the junior film and TV buff, this was the only way for me to go as well.

Now, the national paper itself (I had no idea that there was a daily version that got printed in Hollywood every single day) came out on Wednesdays.  Unfortunately, I had no access to it when the ink was still wet.  But, for some inexplicable reason, there was a store in Mount Vernon that got it delivered by Saturday.

The Intown Newspaper store on First Street and Fourth Avenue.  Don't ask me why, but they somehow managed to get three copies of the newspaper every week.   I mean, it's not like there were many big show biz moguls roaming around Mount Vernon.  But, by Saturday at noon, one of their three copies was already in my hands.

That was my Saturday morning ritual throughout my high school years.   Walking down First Street from Fifteenth Avenue to Intown for my Variety.  In the snow.  In the ice.   In the blistering winds that always seemed to envelop my route. 

Sometimes, I would multi-task on the route and visit the Mount Vernon Public Library for a book or two.  But, always on the trip back, I'd be at Intown with my fifty cents.  Or...gasp...seventy-five cents after the price increase.  I'd tuck my prize under my arm and head home.

There would be the odd Saturdays where there would be bitter disappointment.

"Variety didn't come in this week."

I would sink back into my skin.  Crestfallen, I would crawl home.  And think that I was missing out on vital information that was totally necessary to my life.

Of course, most weeks, I had the paper.  And, once home, I would settle into my grandmother's rocking chair and devour the print for the next two or three hours.

I would know the top grossing films of the week.

I would know all about every TV show and where they fell in the Nielsen ratings.

I would know when my favorite series were in production or in hiatus.

Even though the world was strange to me, I knew which Broadway shows were selling out.  And, even though we lived relatively close to the Great White Way, it was not a venue my family ever frequented.   I mean, with ticket prices of $5.80 or $6.40, even that was probably out of our league economically.

My three hours every Saturday with Variety forged my way into so many different directions that I couldn't imagine at the time.  Being in broadcasting.  Writing.  Understanding audience ratings.  

All of that would essentially form my career as an adult.

I had no clue at the time.   All I knew was that, at some point during my Saturday afternoon, Grandma would walk into the living room and ask me what I was doing.   I'd explain I was reading the show business newspaper "Variety."

"Okay, but don't get any of that black ink on my slipcovers.  I just washed them."

Dinner last night:  Moo shu pork from Century Dragon.