A review of "Tinisima"

Tinisima

by Elena , Poniatowska

Tina Modotti is a fascinating 20th century character whose life was stranger than fiction. Elena Poniatowska, journalist and author, allegedly spent 10 years researching Modotti, and this novel is the fruit of that labor. It’s difficult to understand why she chose to write a novel instead of a biography. Her training as a journalist is evident throughout this book, much to its detriment. Modotti’s life is intricately plotted: first she did this, then she did that. We get a well-researched timeline of events that would be laudable in biographical form, but we never quite come to understand Modotti.

Why would such a vibrantly voluptuous spirit, the center of bohemian Mexico in the 1920s, who tried so hard to create beautiful forms in both art and life consciously subsume and excise all remnants of her unique personality from her life to become a drab gray Comintern agent, abandoning her appearance and her art? Why would she go from a sybaritic plethora of male admirers to obsessing over a pro-Stalinist assassin that just couldn’t be bothered to pay her attention? How was her automatic love of mankind and the idealism it engendered tricked and blinded by the evils committed in the name of Communism? If there were no answers to these questions to be found in all Poniatowska’s biographical research, than certainly a novel might be the ground for examining these questions. It would allow the author to venture with imagination to answer what is left unknown. But Poniatowska creates a Modotti so opaque that psychological understanding becomes impossible.

Modotti crosses paths with hundreds of people in this book. The work is peppered with names of people that are just randomly inserted, possibly to give events context but without context of their own, making it impossible to tell to the reader if a) the person is fictional or b) the person really existed. I get the feeling that most of the people named were real, however Poniatowska gives next to no information about them, so their addition becomes blather. Additionally, as there is no internal examination of Modotti herself, there is no examination of her interaction with these people that would help us understand anything about them. Weston did this, Mella did that, Rivera said this, Vidali went here…we don’t know why, they just did, and we stop caring. I couldn’t be bothered to finish the book with 50 pages to go.

I’m sure Modotti’s life would make a fascinating biography. That’s what I should have read instead of this.

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Synchonized Swimming Contest Routine

This is from Girls' Camp, and these are all peeps I know. Unfortunately I wasn't a counselor that year, but thank goodness we have video!

Oh the Humanity!

I've thought a lot about whether I should write this post. Since the shootings at Virginia Tech, there's been a lot of discussion about showing evil in the media. Some say that by looking into the eyes of pure evil we can educate ourselves and thus protect ourselves. Some argue evil can exert such influence that acknowledging or studying it gives it more power. I normally am all for not giving evil any power, but I feel that we citizens of planet earth have not been sufficiently warned about this particular evil. No photos will be posted here, no extensive description proffered. Those who want to look can look. Those who are afraid what damage might be wrought on their eternal souls can choose not to view it. I just wanted to give evil a human face. Well, I guess it's not human, but as close to human as the guy who gave Michael Jackson his first seven referals to plastic surgeons could look...

I was talking to my friend this past week and she commented that I "wouldn't be me without [my] obsessions." I guess that's true, but I've always been to busy obsessing about my latest obsession to make that self-realization. So I thought I'd share with you my new obsession: I was a Crabcakes Benedict virgin till last week. This is the second Saturday in a row that I had them for brunch, the first at Good Stuff, the second at Misto. They were even better the second time around. Don't they look delectable?

It's a family tradition we have that we make homemade Eggs Benedict for my Dad for Father's Day. I can only handle that about once a year, though because hollandaise is tricky to make (LOW HEAT), and I'm a well-intentioned yet sometimes not great cook. I might order them once a year at a restaurant, but usually it's an infrequent treat for me, and I'd never had them made with crab!

So has anyone else noticed the ascension of crabcakes on the social scene over the last 4-5 years? Now you can buy a fabulous gourmet crabcake from Trader Joe's where as I'm sure the only grocery store version available in the past was probably Kentucky Fried Smells Like Real Crab patties. So maybe I'll have to try these at home!

It's official, I'm OLD!

Did you know it's Dirty Dancing's 20th Anniversary? You do now...coming soon to a screen near you.

I sense a theme running through your work...

I was born in the 70s, LIVED the 80s, but secretly, I think my heart belongs to the early 60s. And I think it has to do with the clothes. You're shocked, I can tell. One of the unsung staples of the 20th century well-dressed man, a crisp, single-breasted suit of a pearly dove's breast was never done better service than by Cary Grant as the daredevil plutocrat-cum-adventurer Roger Thornhill in North by Northwest...



or rumpled with such phsyicality and insouisance as the ones Jean-Paul Belmondo seemed to wear in all his early 60s flicks. In this picture from Pierrot le Fou he wears a divine Prince of Wales check...



This photo is a still from OSS 117: Le Caire nid d'espions, the 2006 French espionage farce set in 1955 that I finally saw this past week. The star of the film, Jean Dujardin (pictured below), rocked the suit like he was discovering the new world, splitting the atom and landing on the moon all in one stride across the lobby of Cairo's best hotel. It made me yearn. Yes, Kramer, to answer your question, I YEARN! I yearn for a time when every man wore cuff links when he left the house. Is that so wrong?

If anyone is interested, Kilgour of Saville Row is doing a bespoke tour of the USA...grab a dude and drag him down to get his measurements taken!

DODGERTALK

Did you know Alyssa Milano has a blog about the Dodgers? NEITHER DID I! I have never been a fan of hers, not that I was overtly anti-Alyssa, but this is certainly a startling turn of events. That Justin Timberlake is such an early-adopter! I will certainly keep an eye on the blog and more importantly on the Blue Crew this year, as the LA Times and Sports Illustrated have both named them as likely to be in the world series this year. Watch this space.

I know what I'm getting Dominick Dunne for Christmas...

Dear Vanity Fair,

When A. M. Homes calls something "slightly naughty", I believe her. One of our more subversive modern authors, who has mentioned more than once in interviews that she had sexual feelings about her biological father when she first interacted with him as the result of a search for her biological parents, if SHE thinks something is indecent, I'm sure Tipper Gore is drafting a bill to put through congress right now to save us all from it.

So, you crazy content creators at vanityfair.com, looks like I fell for one of your nasty lexical tricks. You put Lilly Pulitzer and "naughty" as a tease for an article and I'm thinking sock garters and horsewhips for stockbrokers available in a flamingo pink or billiard table green. These ties are more like what Stanford Blatch from Sex and the City would use to distract you from the awful eyeglasses he wears.

I am willing to concede that maybe I don't have a firm grasp on what passes for modern masculinity these days (c.f. my comments about the inaugural issue of another Condé Nast publication, Men's Vogue on this blog.) Hell, I'd wear them if I didn't think women-in-ties a dangerously tricky sartorial move only best attempted by someone at the top of their game or in a Billy Idol video, which I admittedly at this juncture am not. But I do have what I will christen my McQueen Masculinity Maxim which when stated as a mathematical proof looks like this:

If Steve McQueen is THE MANLIEST MAN OF ALL TIME, then everything he does is masculine.

Ergo, if Steve McQueen would not do X, then X is not masculine.

Q. E. D. Masculinity can be determined by answering the question, "Would Steve McQueen do X?"

According to my calculations, that makes these ties less than virile. However, the Grande Dame of Palm Beach apparently disagrees with me. When Homes queries Pulitzer about her target market, "who is the Lilly man?", she responded thus:

"He's confident, of course. He's walking down the street wearing pink and green elephants," says 75-year-old Lilly Pulitzer Rousseau

I admit it would take nigh on to McQueenian confidence to do something like that.

What exactly does Lilly Pulitzer have on you, Graydon Carter?

Baby, you can drive MY car!

This pic I came across is from a promotion that's almost a year old and I don't even care. It's of one of my many Britboy crushes, Rupert Penry-Jones modeling for my lovely Aston Martin.
To quote Her Madgesty, as I am wont to do..."If I was a car, I’d be an Aston Martin." Give those guys in marketing a raise, they got me.

This is the photo I am sending with my Christmas cards this year. This is me and my lovely RPJ overlooking the Firth of Clyde, he in his lovely cashmere coat, me in my snuggy cable knit. We are so in love with the performance of our new Aston Martin!

A review of "Selected Poems"

Selected Poems

by Joseph Brodsky

Hrm. These poems are obviously translated from the Russian, and I wonder what kind of translation it was…literal, word for word, or did the translator take license to try and replicate the tone of the poem with out the precision of meaning. I guess I can’t just help but feel that I’m missing something here. THESE are the poems a man was exiled over? For what? Maybe I’m just too American, meaning I don’t question a person’s right to dissent, but there hardly seemed to be any criticism of the Soviet Regime AT ALL. There are some poems that deal with atomic power, boats, his exile. But most talk of nature, and the towns he has known, and maybe a few long-ago loves. Hardly the stuff to make you wanna expel him from your country.

More knowledge of context on my part probably would have increased my appreciation. This was admitedly an intro to Brodsky for me.

See more about Selected Poems

Look how gorgeous these are...

"'ere are oo?"

I've lost my passport, better said, I have TEMPORARILY mislaid it. I have been obsessing about it ever since I realized it's...not where I thought it was. It's a good thing too, cause if I had it I might not be able to keep myself from buying thisssss luxe passport cover from Smythson. As it is, I'm placing 4 orders with the universe (yes I've seen The Secret just like everyone else...)

1. Please help me find my passport before I'm supposed to go on the Scandinavian Cruise with my sisters this summer.


2. Please help me go on more fabulous vacations than I have been going on.


3. Please help me to be able to afford this passport cover and something smashing to put it in besides the fanny pack (a little too downmarket).
   
4. Please let me have a fabulous villa in Morocco and an architect husband that likes to surf like this chick.

Speed Stacking

My first cousin once removed is 10 and she is way into this. I think it's weird. Apparently Germans are way into it. The World Championships are in Denver in April.

Jerry Seinfeld=BIG BOWL OF MAC & CHEESE

What the hell did Jerry have to do with the Oscars last night? Even after he explained it, I still don't know. I do know that for my money, he was the best thing about the telecast. Firstly because he YAWNED during Al Snore's acceptance speech and was busted for it in front of a billion earthlings; the only snarkily subversive moment of the evening. Unfortunately, I am quite sure that he was yawning because of the animated cartoon characters and dance sequences that somehow the Oscars never seem to shake, and not as any gesture about Al's "most important moral issue of our time."

And what about his bit? Just listening to it suffused my body with warm feelings of remembrance for a time when Ellen DeGeneres wasn't considered to be a comedian; when there was "No Hugging, No Learning." Yea, those nine years of must see TV that now seem so far off, like the last time I ate a bowl of really good macaroni & cheese. Except, uh, I just ate some on Friday.

On a related note, here are the winning recipes of the Tillamook Mac & Cheese Contest 2006. Just in time for New Year's Resolutions...OH YES, I WILL COOK THEM ALL!!!!!!

You know how they always say, don't by clothes too small for you in the hopes that it will motivate you to lose weight because it never works? Well it ALWAYS worked for me. Until I decided to become a fatass.

Now that I'm deciding NOT to be a fatass, do you think I should buy this fanny pack (I cannot believe I just typed that phrase) to inspire me to work out?

What if I bought it as surrogate Official Liza Minnelli Tour paraphanalia?

Not the smartest thing in the world....

These are family friends. And they are loco.

Top Design

Well, what can be said. For being a 100% Project Runway derivative, this show is shockingly bad. Todd Oldham is no Tim Gunn, that's for sure. We have none of Sensei Gunn's prolific vocabulary, laser-like mentoring precison and genuineness. Instead we have faded hipster doof Oldham with a sing-song voice so lifeless it's frightening. I mean really, couldn't he just pantomime his instructions? I could not be more collectively annoyed by a group than the contestants that we are presented with here. I honestly don't want ANY of them to win. So the question becomes why am I watching? Ya got me there.

I do have to credit the show with introducing me to Kelly Wearstler's work. Well, maybe I knew it already, I just didn't know it was her. Apparently she's one of the major proponents of the Hollwood Glam ethos that was so hip in interior design circa 2004. I describe her point of view as how Vincente Minnelli would style his sets if he was shooting Mitford to Mussolini: the Life of Lady Diana Mosely in the 21st century. That doesn't keep me from wanting to have every party ever from now on for the rest of my life at the Viceroy, which she designed. Damn you, you ex-playmate turned "design superstar". You are now officially in the #2 slot of my Pantheon of Chicks I Love to Hate, right behind Sienna Miller, but above Chloë Sevigny....who used your wallpaper in her house....as seen in January's Home and Garden.

Now Jonathan Adler, I am COVETING your Muse pottery collection this season. Let's face it, you had me with the names: Misia Sert, Kiki de Montparnasse, Gala Dalí...and I WANT the Dora Maar vase (pictured).

A review of "Passionate Minds: The Great Love Affair of the Enlightenment, Featuring the Scientist Emilie du Chatelet, the Poet Voltaire, Sword Fights, Book Burnings, Assorted Kings,"

Passionate Minds: The Great Love Affair of the Enlightenment, Featuring the Scientist Emilie du Chatelet, the Poet Voltaire, Sword Fights, Book Burnings, Assorted Kings,

by David Bodanis

Emilie du Chatelet is a wonder of nature that sent her lover Voltaire into depression because she was SMARTER than him and he knew it. She didn’t try to show him up, she just was who she was. Where has this book been all my life, and how did I just hear about her for the first time. She’s my new #1 Girl Power Icon. Queen Elizabeth I, your majesty, after a 18 year reign over my heart, you’re bumped to #2.

And, amongst her other lovers, the Duc du Richelieu, aka the basis for Valmont in Choderlos de Laclos’ Liaisons dangereuses. DING DONG! If you’re a big 18th century ho like me, you’ll luvvvvvv this.

See more about Passionate Minds: The Great Love Affair of the Enlightenment, Featuring the Scientist Emilie du Chatelet, the Poet Voltaire, Sword Fights, Book Burnings, Assorted Kings,

That's Enough For Me.

Naked in the Marketplace: The Lives of George Sand

by Benita Eisler

This was a slim biography, easily digestible, not a large scholarly tome, which is a blessing and a curse. My criticisms for the author mainly come from the format. We learn (a summary of) what she knows, but not HOW she knows it. There is a small notes section at the end corresponding to minimal (less than five) footnotes throughout the text. Now believe me, I am not demanding the kind of intricate note system that has you keeping a finger in the notes section so you can jump back and forth between the text and the additional information at the back of the book. But it would be nice to know when she concludes, for example, that Sand’s father Dupin was not her biological father, whether that is authorial conjecture or common knowledge (at least amongst Sand scholars). For that fact there is no footnote, no way of following the scholarly trail, nothing. There is no doubt in my mind that Ms. Eisler is VERY knowledgeable about her subject, but her choice to largely remove her authorial imprint from the text has a novice “Sandiste” like me wondering how authoritative the work is.

I have long been interested in George Sand, but this is the first biography I have read about her. It will probably be my last, mainly because of Ms. Sand herself. I have a problem with people that absolutely live the life they want to live (at the expense of children) and then blame “class” and “society” when they themselves persist in behaving in a way that always end in drama and sadness.

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Bizarre Love Triangle

All for Love: A Novel

by Dan Jacobson

I’ve often heard it said that one’s ability to take responsibility for one’s own actions is the highest indicator of self-esteem. Don’t tell that to the protagonists of this book. Certainly we the readers are entertained by their devastating choices, but it’s their inability to relent in the pursuit of the inevitable consequences that fascinates. I can only liken the behavior of these people to the current exploits of Britney Spears. However, I don’t think Ms. Spears is as enamored with the acting out of the dramatization of her own saga as much as Princess Louise and her erstwhile lover Mattachich. Once on top of the world, Britney is insistent on degrading herself, but in the pursuit of pleasure. For the lovers of this historical novel, pleasure never really comes into it.

I believe the book’s titular “love” was never part of their endgame (sorry to disappoint!). They are two united pilgrims of imagination, seeking to discover what lies beyond the strictures of class in Hapsburg Vienna. Once they find it, puzzlingly, they don’t stop. They continue on in an intractable gyre of indigence and affliction of their own making, only ending, in this life at least, in death. While on the one hand the reader marvels at their brazen, obscene commitment to finish what they audaciously start, one cannot help but ponder, was it all worth it?

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A review of "The Yellow House: Van Gogh, Gauguin, and Nine Turbulent Weeks in Arles"

The Yellow House: Van Gogh, Gauguin, and Nine Turbulent Weeks in Arles

by Martin Gayford

The precision with which this book is written is very impressive. There is so much detail in this book, the author presents us with the type of house linens that Vincent purchased to decorate the Yellow House in Arles. He can describe the contents of the house even to what pictures were hanging on which walls, and what chair was placed where. But the details don’t override the narrative. I knew next to nothing about van Gogh before reading this. I knew what everyone knows. He cut his ear off, and he painted sunflowers.

Who knew that Vincent was a bigtime reader, and even possibly a synesthete? Literature was as important to his work as color, but you’d never guess it just by looking at their subject matter. The author of this book teases out the influences and the symbolism behind his works. Yes, SYMBOLISM. And even though Vincent’s references may have been obscure, the author easily connects the dots for us. He can be my Art History 101 prof any time.

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A review of "Far from the Madding Crowd"

Far from the Madding Crowd

by John Schlesinger

JULIE CHRISTIE! TERENCE STAMP! ONE HELL OF A LONG MOVIE! And her hair never moves the whole time!

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Ruling Reversal

So as you will recall, I had a good belly laugh about the first issue of Men's Vogue. I didn't think it was going to fly...but now, well, let's just say I'm man enough to admit...those crazy kids just might be on to something. I was particularly taken by the penultimate issue with Sir Hugh Jackman on the cover.
Playboy may claim to be all about the articles, but this magazine really is. Flip inside and you've got a piece on Peter Beard's new book from Taschen, for example. And nary a female covermodel in sight...so far. In this Maximized world, that's an impressive editorial direction that really sets them apart. Well played.

Betcha can't eat just one...

I love you Pocky, oh yes I do.
I love you Pocky, and I'll be true.
When you're not near me, I'm blue.
Oh, Pocky I love you.

Get a D to the I to the C-T-I-O-N-A-R-Y

You know, if you're an admitted Meth addict leveraging your turn on Kids Incorporated despite a tenuous grip on your urinary tract, I'm guessing you were never one for hitting the grammar books, so I'm gonna recommend the spell check function next time you're, ah, composing. And a hint...it's TASTY, no "e".

Happy Birthday Dolly

"If you look in the mirror, I wonder what you see/
I wonder if you realize you're beautiful to me"

Oh how the mighty have fallen

What's going on?

It really bums me out to say this, but I think Daniel Craig has actually surpassed Luke Walton and Kobe Bryant to win the dubious distinction of having the most asinine tattoo I've ever seen. Ancient Peruvian condor/ufo landing signal beats stickmen and butterflies for sure.

Why couldn't the art director at W just save us all and photoshop it out. It's not like they didn't airbrush the hell out of Nicole, so why stop there.

What about that guy?

Was anyone else taken aback by John Krasinski's blip appearance in Dreamgirls in what had to be one of the more bizarre triumvirates ever seen on screen: him, John Lithgow and Beyoncé? I am supposed to be totally crushing on him because my sisters are, but I'm kind of not, and that makes me feel badly, like I broke one of the unspoken white girl rules.

I am a late comer to the American version of The Office, mostly because I believe attemps at replicating perfection are doomed. But then my sister made me watch the one where Jim faxes Dwight letters from Future Dwight. And then I saw the Benihana Christmas episode and could not believe it when Michael Scott marked the waitress on the arm with a Sharpie. So I'm willing to admit that the newer version is slickly amusing.

I think the problem is that I cried when Tim and Dawn kissed in the BBC version, but...I kind of don't really care about Jim and Pam (those are their names, right? I can never remember the character names in the American one). If anything I want him to get together with Rashida's character. Admittedly, I'm coming to it after he's "moved on", but Jim and Pam don't really seem to have any chemistry at all.

And also...I have a problem with what Krasinski does when the camera cuts to him as a punctuation for whatever Steve Carrell has just been doing. His face always seems to say, "Of Course. Why are you cutting to me? I'm NOT REACTING, this all PERFECTLY rational behavior." Whereas Martin Freeman's Tim never seemed snarkily ironic like that. More stunned, or at the very least too unsure that anyone else saw what David Brent just did to be complicit in suppressing a reaction as a form of bonding. A recent issue of The New Yorker describes the two shows' differences much more eloquently. Sorry to get all macro, but I feel like snark is overtaking America, and it's not all that cool anymore, peoples. Being genuine just feels more fresh.

CHICK-A-POW!

After all the egg nog was drunk and the stockings were emptied, and everyone had a piece of wrapping paper stuck to the bottom of their shoe, what did you do on Christmas? I bet you didn't watch A Smoky Mountain Christmas. I bet you don't STILL have it on the DVR. I bet you couldn't go pull out a taped-from TV circa 1988 VHS copy of it out of the closet, if you could be bothered. I bet you weren't on the verge of tears when you saw this GENIUS album cover of hers from your favorite decade. And I bet you didn't do a spit take when Sherpa listed Dolly's autobiography on her 2006 list of books read, cause it's on YOUR wish list.

I'm on to your game, Harvey Weinstein!

Should I go see this tomorrow? I can't decide. I read Jean Stein's oral biography of Edie when I was a freshman in college. It was an education to say the least. As intriguingly ineffable as the lure of Andy & Co. is, in the end, I always feel kinda sickened by that whole scene. And then there's Sienna. Man, I have a love-hate thing with her. Does she have to be so damn stylish? Well, DOES SHE?

Say it ain't so!

DON'T GO, TIM! You've got a LIFETIME of Red Lobster ahead of you!

She's A Lady

Happy Birtday Dame Judi, my valkyrie

Wish Fulfilment

Today was one of those days where I didn't really expect anything special to happen, and I was pleasantly surprised. On the spur of the moment, my sister and I found ourselves at the Getty Villa in Malibu. I had been meaning to go there and see it since it had reopened, but never got around to making the reservations to go. As we drove by on PCH, I just said to my sister, "Hey, let's go there!" And we did! Etruscan statuary here we come!

It was the perfect day, the perfect weather, and the perfect serving of "CULTURE" as all my sister's boyfriends call it. So of course the most impressive part was the formal colonnaded garden (pictured). It has a serious tranquilizing effect, and as you come to the edge of it, a balcony overlooking the eucalyptus with the sea in the near distance. But the special treat was the herb garden. Hyssop, Quince, Sweet Bay, Plum, Olive, Lime, Balm,...the scent was phenomenal, and the breeze brought new scents to you as you walked along the path. It was a very special place that I'd love to return to. I even put a penny in a fountain and made a wish...I am never that sentimental or superstitious, but it seemed like the thing to do.

So then we proceded to lunch at the "new" Malibu Inn. What can I say, it always ends in tears for me there. But that was merely a blip in the day.

The apogee for me was FINALLY after what, oh 10 years of searching and searching...I finally got me a David Bowie tee-shirt. And it has magenta glitter on it. This makes up for any deep-down residual sadness I may be experiencing for the loss of the mythic Liza workout tee.

LALALALALA I AM NOT LISTENING!!!!

I just didn't really need to hear this right now! I would gladly give up all the Fafarazzi points this story earned me if it could have just never happened at all. Rewind, Erase! Don't need to go there. I am already hard up enough as it is, why do you have to take my little pleasures from me?

No She DI'NT!

What in the world is going on? I think girlfriend Gwen is off her rocker, and this latest cover story from Entertainment Weekly proves it. According to the article, she claims her new look for the album is inspired by Michelle Pfeiffer's performance as Elvira Hancock in Scarface. Ok, that's pretty fabulous inspiration, I ain't gonna lie (What about the fabulous cobalt blue gown with a plunging neckline?), but I think something got lost in the translation. Alot of things happened in that movie, but I'm pretty sure wearing wigs made out of acrylic poodle hair wasn't one of them. But the major missteps aren't just tonsorial on this second solo outing. On the new single "Wind It Up" she samples "The Lonely Goatherd" from The Sound of Music, specifically the yodel. You read right. It is the most retarded thing I've ever heard in my life. So to recap, Scarface and yodeling. But maybe she's not all to blame. If Courtney Love was going around claiming that the only reason my Adonis of a husband started dating me was because she dumped him first, I think I'd be a little off my game too.

Keep Burberry British

LADIES...believe me when I say I am TRYING very very hard to find blog ready pics of Ioan Gruffudd as the new face of Burberry. I just saw the spread in this December's InStyle, and it's phenomenal. However in doing my intrepid visual research, I discovered that our lad is embroiled in a bit of a controversy. Seems despite Burberry's profits this year, the board has decided to shut down a Welsh manufacturing plant near where Ioan grew up that has been in the company for 70 years to get the work done cheaper in China. Ioan was urged to take a stand on the issue, but demurred until now. He has finally joined Prince Charles in putting the pressure on those Burberry mucky-mucks. Well, if belatedly played. Chavs of the world breathe a sigh of relief.

trompe l’œil

Whenever I see the brand Aquascutum, I always think it says, ahem, something else.

Liza at the Luxor

Last night I was privileged to end 2006: My Year In Gay Man Music with a performance by Miss Liza May Minnelli at the Luxor Casino in Las Vegas. Unfortunately we were half an hour late and so I only got to see about an hour's worth of performance. And there was no merchandise to be had. I had been dreaming for weeks about wrassling myself up a Liza tour tee that would motivate me on the eliptical trainer. I'd cut out the neck and make a neck hole big enough to slide over one shoulder. I might have even jazzed it up with a BeDazzle™ or two, but such dreams were not to be fulfilled. As Liza said as she ripped off one faux eyelash and then the other midsong, "DAMN!"

What I liked especially about this performance was that between each song, she took a few seconds to just chat, share an anecdote or remark on the first time she had heard a song sung. I would die to read a Liza autobiography, because honey you better believe she knows where all the skeletons are buried. I would have loved to talk to her about Arrested Development too. Can you imagine going out on the town with Jessica Walters and Liza, watching them knock back a couple thousand champagne mimosas while you nursed a Diet Peach Snapple Iced Tea? Heaven!

The best moment of the night for me came when she let her bandleader/piano player do a solo cover of "You Can Leave Your Hat On". Although I love the Tom Jones version of the song, I recently had to sit in the car and listen to my dad sing along every word of some random blues version of it which was extremely distressing and offputting. But Liza helped me to push those memories aside when she insisted on a reprise of the song and then proceeded to do an interpretive dance all the while her bandleader sang. She's still got it baby. David Guest eat your heart out.

A Sad Sad Sad Day

Part of me is like of course he does. But most of me is sickened.

The Casting Director: Vesper Lynd

Last night I saw Casino Royale, which I thought was pretty darn good. No need for an extended rhapsody on Daniel Craig, we all knew he would be perfect, and he was. When my 77 year old grandmother says, "That fella reminds me of Steve McQueen!" you know the mission is accomplished. This post will inagurate a new feature here at the blog wherein I critique the casting choices in a film, and proffer a few of my own. So let's get down to brass tacks: who in the hell greenlighted Eva Green for the role of Vesper Lynd?

Here are a few actresses in no particular order that would have galvanized the film with their presence.

1. Caterina Murino To begin with, the producers had to look no further than someone already in their film. So you've never heard of her, so what. In the role of Solange, she was a knockout in the red gown she wore when she first met Bond, and the chemistry between her and Craig was superior to the non-existent sizzle with Green. And she had a sweetness and a vulnerability that even the shower scene couldn't pump out of Green's performance.

2. Connie Nielsen The producers probably saw Green in the awful Kingdom of Heaven and picked her anyway. So why not go with the heroine of Ridley Scott's best film, rather than his worst? In Gladiator Nielsen looked ravishing but transmitted strength. The role of Vesper calls for those same qualities, and she would have delivered them with less insecurity than Green.

3. Zoe Lucker Well I would have paid beaucoup bucks to see that! Killing two husbands and switching your own baby with your lover's wife's while taking controling interest in the biggest football club in England just doesn't happen by chance. Watch her build a relationship of trust with Bond, and watch her blow up his heart. If you're looking for someone to enact THE BETRAYAL that is responsible for forming a huge part of the Bond identity, who better than Tanya Turner herself to do the job. And do it up she would, luv.

4. Claire Forlani. See how good I am at this?

5. Rachel Weisz I don't know if she'd agree to do it, and I don't know if people would think to ask her, but I think she would have been perfect for the role. She's a spitfire.

The Movie Was BETTER Than The Book

I finished Elizabeth Gaskell's North & South last night. I found it enjoyable 'til the last 100 pages. In this case, the miniseries beats the book. Credit is due the screenwriter who I thought did a delightful job of making the ending much more entertaining than Mrs. Gaskell was able to.

In honor of how obsessed I have become, I created this list of Lines You Would Never Hear in North & South--Wedding Crashers Edition. Basically, every line below is a direct quote from Wedding Crashers, but I put it in the mouth of the main characters from N & S.


Mrs. Thornton [To John Thornton]: She hasn't answered your calls, she didn't respond to any of your letters, she didn't respond to the candygram. God only knows what happened to the kitten you got for her. 'Cause she didn't keep it, and I know you're not raising the ***damn thing. I think it's very obvious at this juncture that she just flat out does not wanna see you anymore.


Mr. Thornton [To Margaret]: Can I say something to you without you getting mad at me?


Mr. Thornton [To Margaret]: I'm not perfect, but who are we kidding, neither are you.


Mr. Thornton [To Mrs. Thornton]: HEY MOM! CAN WE GET SOME MEATLOAF?


Margaret [To John Thornton]: You shut your mouth when you're talking to me!


[On the balcony, infront of the mob]
Mr. Thornton: I feel so tiny in your arms.
Margaret: How tall are you?
Mr. Thornton: Six foot five, but I feel like I'm four feet.


Mr. Thornton: You and I both know I'm a phenomenal dancer!


Mr. Thornton [To Margaret]: I'm gonna go see Dr. Finklestein and I'm gonna tell him we have a whole new bag of issues. We can forget about mom for a while.

Mr. Thornton [after whoever's funeral (I can't remember which one he went to.)]: I crashed a funeral today.


Ok, I'm sure there are plenty more where that came from, that's just a smattering....

Grace Jones, I Heart You...Or, SCARY!

At Home

Doesn't this look like some divine yuppie Vallhala/Elysium/Xanadu? Except what's with the lamp with the fringe?

Notice the crocheted afghan on the right sofa arm? D. V., Je t'aime!

Oprah Proves Her Moral Superiority Over Everyone Else Once Again.

Saturday afternoon as I was surfing the channels on my TV, I happened upon an episode of Oprah After the Show. Oprah's guest on the show was her BFF Gayle and the subject of the show was "What I Did This Summer". The ladies chatted about how they went to South Africa to select girls to attend the school Oprah is building there. They also touched on the road trip they had embarked on across the USA which seemed to put in relief their personality differences. For example. Oprah doesn't listen to music in the car. Ok fine. Oprah didn't want to listen to music in the car for the whole 3,000 miles of their trip. That's crazy. Basically Gayle seemed much more fun to be around and Oprah sounded like a big spoiled whiner.

Apparently Gayle is a TV-o-phile. She went on to mention a couple of shows she liked: Grey's Anatomy, Desperate Housewives...snore whatevs. And then the fun began. Gayle admitted in answer to a question from the audience that she is addicted to...wait for it...Flavor of Love. She even managed to do her best Foofy Foofy impersonation with a loud "FLAVOR FLAV!" right in Oprah's face. I am not making this up. Gayle then went on to say that she made a tape of an episode of Flavor of Love and took it over to Oprah's house to make her watch it. Of course Queen O made Gayle turn it off, and thought the show was just awful. Well so do I, I guess if I'm being honest. But that doesn't mean I don't get totally and completely sucked into it if it's on. I've had to make a promise to myself that I will not turn it on if I see it's on TV. Some of us would really love to build schools for AIDS orphans, Oprah. But frankly, choosing not to watch a bad TV show is about as close to changing the world as we'll ever get.

Don't Drop Bombs (Like this one)

I can't decide if this is "THA" bomb or "a" bomb. I promise this won't turn into Liza Minnelli blog.

Maybe this time she'll be lucky...

I know it's not news by now, but I just had to give a cheer out to Miss Liza May for her recent legal victory...

SWEET NECTAR

Alex and Krystal=Taking Care of Business!

They will be reuniting in a national tour of the play Legends before heading to BROADWAY!

More proof that I am just a gay man in a woman's body.

Protest

First there was The Office,






then Footballers' Wive$,






then The Vicar of Dibley






and Life on Mars.



I realize that's not the order of their production, but it's how I fell in love with them. It's fair to say the only TV I watch anymore is on BBC America. So I'm more than a little steamed that ALL FOUR of these shows have been or are being remade for American TV. I've said it before and I'll say it again, "Hollywood, I challenge you...NO REMAKES EVER EVER!"

Nepotism

My 2nd cousin's husband Ben was in Time magazine a week or two ago in an article about his letterpress stationery business, Seraph. I had the opportunity to visit his studio at the end of August, and let me tell you, true to my paper addiction, I was in a cold sweat because I couldn't invent a pretext for ordering gorgeous custom wedding invitations. I don't even know anyone that's getting married that I could pass the info on to! Go to the site, check out his wares, and be mindful that he'll even work with you to design your own. And if you ain't getting married anytime soon, you can still buy his gorgeous note cards.

Powered by....

So, I was watching the USC football game this afternoon, as I am wont to do. USC winning a football game is about the only sure thing there is anymore in this life of mine. The People of Troy DELIVER. Some might wonder what it is that ensures such reliability. Is it the unprescedented wealth that USC Alumni are famous for bestowing on their alma mater, inevitably making the Trojans the New York Yankees of college football? Why only last week George Lucas announced a gift of $175 million dollars to 'SC (but I doubt very much that the football program will see much of that). Maybe it's not the money, but something overthere is making a difference.

As I watched the surprisingly close game this afternoon I had a realization about what has caused the success of 'SC thus far. Pete Carroll is the lost Wilson brother. I guess he fits in first, the eldest before Andrew, Owen and Luke. First and formost this of course would explain the heartbreaking Rose Bowl 2006 loss by the Trojans to the Texas Longhorns. For as much love as Southern California has proffered Owen and Luke, could a long lost Wilson brother really betray his secret roots? See? Makes total sense. The longish shag. The unquestionably 100% totally heterosexual guy guy's love for men. The affable smile and easy interaction with anyone who might cross his path. America loves themselves a good Wilson brother.

Video Outtakes

Ok...This was emotional...that's why it took me so long to write this entry. As of July 4, 2006, Video Outtakes is on indefinite hiatus...and possibly out of business permanently.

In a world of giants corporations like Blockbuster and Hollywood Video taking over the video trade...This little store that could was a movie-lover's oasis. You absolutely knew you'd be able to find even the most obscure films there. Here's a typical challenge: A French Gangster movie, a 60's sci-fi parody and a Burt Lancaster film-noir. GO!

We'll miss you guys.

I saw you

You didn't look great, but you sure looked better than this.

I am such a Hollywood Snitch