Deer Droppings--Flash Forward TV

Please click on the photo above to watch a short one-minute film from the new "Deer Droppings" series. This episode features a song parody of "Top of the World" by the Carpenters which lampoons the use of flash forwards on shows like "Lost" and "Desperate Housewives."

Hope you enjoy it. And have a great Memorial Day weekend!!!!!

Putting Peeling Personalities Out to Pasture

When I was in elementary school, I remember reading about an Indian tribe that had a pretty distinct way of dealing with their elderly. They would take them out into the wilds of the forest and leave them there to die. Because in this particular culture, any person who became feeble or needy was considered a burden to the rest of the tribe. So instead of caring for these aging individuals through their “Golden Years,” they cut their losses and ran. I even remember the colorful illustration used to demonstrate the idea. It was of a young Indian boy pulling his Grandmother on a sleigh through the snow. In the distance, we could see a dense forest where the young man would presumably deposit his cargo. I can only imagine how uncomfortable that kind of good-bye would be.

“Nice visiting with you, Grandma. Hope you don’t get eaten by the wolves. Bye!”

The practice seemed so outlandish to me that I thought it was a joke. And yet, sometimes I wonder if a slightly altered version of this idea might not be beneficial in today’s celebrity obsessed society. For example, wouldn’t it be great to never have to see Paris Hilton again? True, she’s a little young to be put out to Pasture, but could we please put her out of the spotlight? Take her out to some forest somewhere, drop her off, and be done with it. And if the wolves get her, so be it.

I bring this up, because I recently witnessed Christopher Walken host an uncomfortably long and unfunny episode of “Saturday Night Live” in which he read off cue cards for the entire show. Not only that, but he didn’t even read them well. And he rarely, if ever, turned to the actor he was supposed to be talking to. The fact that you could literally see him reading all his lines made me wonder why they ever allowed him to host the show in the first place. Was someone else too busy? I know Mr. Walken has been very successful hosting SNL in the past, but it seems the genre should no longer be a part of his resume. (To add insult to injury, SNL showed the same horrible episode two weeks later, as if a repeat of the disaster might warrant it an instant classic.)

While it’s true I’ve never really been a fan of Christopher Walken, I understand why other people might find his odd, disjointed delivery of dialogue fascinating. However, if you’ve ever worked with the Meisner Technique in an acting class, you’ll realize Mr. Walken never progressed past Lesson One. Just because you put a pause in a weird place in the middle of the sentence does not make you an exceptional actor. Especially if you use the same tired technique in every role you’ve ever played. Which always made me wonder—is Mr. Walken really talented, or is society just desperate for a new method of speaking?

At any rate, I would put Mr. Walken on my list of actors needing a little trip to the forest. Not that I’m suggesting anyone leave him there to die, but perhaps enrolling him in a nice Summer Camp for Seniors or committing him to a Rest Home for the Syllabically Challenged might be good alternatives.

On a completely different note, does anyone really know what’s “Straight Up” with Paula Abdul? After her recent “mishap” this week on “American Idol,” you have to wonder if the paint isn’t beginning to crack a little on this well-known celebrity. For years, there’s been speculation about Paula’s mental health, as well as her “alleged” reliance on drugs and/or alcohol to keep her going. But Tuesday night’s “weirdness” reached a whole new level of bizarre. When Paula began critiquing singers on their second song before they’d even sung it, the credibility of both the star and the show were brought into question. Was she confused? Was she drunk? Or did she have some kind of out-of-body experience that magically projected her into the future? (I’m betting on the latter.)

Whatever the case, Paula was not on her game that night. She appeared particularly distracted and confused, and even more “Lost” than the survivors of Oceanic Flight 815. Perhaps like Christopher Walken, Paula is ready for her sled ride to oblivion. After all, it’s always better to go out when you’re on top, than when people get tired of your antics. Unfortunately, in both of the above cases, the celebrity in question is totally oblivious to their own oblivion. (Maybe Hallmark should make a card for such an occasion. Like a “Happy Retirement” card with a projected expiration date. That way, we can put fading celebrities out of their misery long before they make us miserable watching them fade.)

But that’s just me. What celebrity would you like put out to pasture?

"Filler Television" Pads Programming with Unnecessary Bulk

How dumb do television producers think we are? Apparently pretty dumb, based on the growing phenomenon known as “filler television” that seems to permeate a number of very popular TV shows. And I don’t even know if “filler television” is the correct term for all the “padding” producers use to extend their lack of content into longer programs; but it seems like an appropriate moniker.

If you’re not sure what I’m referring to, I will give you some examples. “American Idol” is the biggest and most popular abuser of “filler” television, especially when they extend a two-minute elimination ceremony into an hour-long event. (Or a two-hour event, in the case of the overly hyped season finales.) Having little original content in which to fill the time slot, they regurgitate footage of the last episode over and over again until our brains are turned to mush. To me, this is insulting. Why would I want to sit through highlights of a show I saw only last night? Do they really think I won’t remember what happened unless they replay it for me? Am I really that vacuous?

I also think it’s ridiculous when the show comes back after a commercial break and before we can continue the program, we must sit through five minutes of recap on what we just saw before the break. This is not only insulting, but degrading, as the producers are clearly indicating that we can’t even remember what happened five minutes ago. Which makes me wonder if television is still geared toward the lowest common denominator, or we’ve all just become “the lowest common denominator” because we watch television.

If I want to watch a TV show again, I’ll wait for a rerun. I don’t need you to show it again the next day in bite-size pieces as if I’m suffering from Alzheimer’s. It only contributes to the dumbing down of America when you have to give a recap every twenty-four hours to make sure we're paying attention. Imagine if that convention spilled over into “real life,” and someone would have to remind you the day after your wedding that you’d actually gone through with it.

“Last night, the couple fought for their relationship in a nail-biting matrimonial ceremony that can only be referred to as ostentatious. Hearts were joined, wine was spilled, and the Best Man ran away with the new Mother-in-Law. Yes, it was an exciting evening of thrills and surprises. But it’s nothing compared with what the Honeymoon might offer. Stay tuned for upcoming scenes.”

All I can say is, Thank God for DVR. It used to be that I would only use it this helpful recording device to fast forward through commercial breaks. But now I’ve found that I can actually fast forward through most of the shows, too. Last night, I watched the results show for “Dancing with the Stars” in a record-breaking four minutes. And you know what? I didn’t miss a thing. And today, I feel like some of my brain cells are actually started to regenerate themselves.

Celebrity Mystery in Madrid

Please click on the photo above to watch another episode in the "Celebrity Mystery" series. In this installment, Fritz Freewhenever travels to Madrid, Spain to investigate another series of bizarre celebrity sightings, including Antonio Banderas and Penelope Cruz.

Celebrity Mystery in London--LOST FOOTAGE

Please click on the image above to watch a short sequence that was cut from Fritz Freewhenever's latest news report, "Reality Stars on a Rampage."

Celebrity Mystery in London

Reality Stars on a Rampage? Click on the photo above to watch the latest humorous news report from Fritz Freewhenever on yet another "shocking celebrity mystery." This time from London, England.

Sometimes All You Need is a Good Chocolate Cake

The past week has been a rather sluggish one for me. Other than watching an inordinate amount of television and moping around the house, I didn’t really do anything one might call “productive.” My lethargic mood was further enhanced by a visit to my Accountant, who informed me that I would NOT be getting a sizeable tax return this year. In fact, I wouldn’t be getting a return at all. I’d be owing money. Harsh! What a great way to start the weekend.

So there I am, lying on my couch all Saturday afternoon, catching up on old episodes of “Lost” and “Kyle XY” and “Lipstick Jungle.” (The latter show easily understandable when played at high speed without the sound on, leaving you with the same empty feeling you’d get if you watched it in real time.) I couldn’t motivate myself to work out, or go outside, or even go to the store. I was stuck in a rut and didn’t know how to get myself out of it. So to escape from my depressing plight, I climbed into bed and slept through the rest of the afternoon.

But then something interesting happened. While I was sleeping, I had a dream about making a chocolate cake. It all seemed so real, from the preparation of the cake, to putting it in the oven, to the eventual frosting of the top and sides. The dream was so vivid and detailed, that when I woke up, I immediately went down to the kitchen to have a piece. Only there wasn’t a cake to eat. Nor were there any ingredients to prepare such a treat. So with renewed vigor and energy, I pulled on some clothes and jumped in the car to do some much needed grocery shopping.

By the time the early evening rolled around, I was not only preparing the cake, but also a rather nice hearty meal consisting of chicken, corn and rice. My dull day had suddenly turned into something quite different, as the activity surrounding the making of the cake had revitalized my senses. And later that evening, when I actually got to sample my chocolate creation, I was amazed at how good it tasted. And how good I felt because I’d taken the time to make it. In fact, my weekend had suddenly become much more productive just because I had a simple little dream.

Now I am tackling the laundry and who knows what might be next? Which leads me to believe that when you’re blue or lethargic, sometimes all it takes is a good chocolate cake!

Secret Society of Celebrities

Please click on the link below to watch another humorous report featuring Fritz Freewhenever investigating mysterious celebrity sightings in Plainfield. The link will open up a new window on YouTube. 

Secret Society of Celebrities

Enjoy!

The Key to Kyle XY

How did a show about a boy without a belly button become so intriguing? And I don’t mean because the storylines always contain a nice blend of science fiction and soap opera. I’m intrigued because some of the topics are pretty risqué, especially given that it’s an ABC Family Channel show. For example, past episodes have included pretty frank discussions of teenage sex, pornography, infidelity, pot smoking, alcohol and drug abuse, cancer and even masturbation. Not the typical subject matter you’d expect to find in a Disney produced vehicle. But there it is nonetheless, cleverly mixed in with mystery and adventure, so you don’t notice as much.

Granted, these issues might not be new to network television, but they are somewhat new to family television. Except that ABC touts itself as “a different kind of family,” so I guess that means we don’t have to pretend we’re living in the 50s anymore. But does that also mean that Disney might try to instill this new kind of honesty into their other iconic stories? Imagine an updated version of “Cinderella” where the stepsisters complain about nothing but menstruation and cheating boyfriends. Or a modern day “Pinocchio” where the little wooden puppet is put in jail for executing indecent acts with his nose. And I shudder to think what might happen between Snow White and those seven little men.

Don’t get me wrong. I like this honest approach to such mature subject matter; I’m just surprised the producers haven’t gotten a lot of flack for doing it. Maybe it’s because the show is partly Science Fiction, so the conservative family organizations don’t give it much attention. They figure since there’s no such thing as a genetically created human being, there must also be no such thing as masturbation and drug abuse? Or maybe because Kyle has amazing powers and super-human intelligence, not to mention great eyes and a killer smile, they equate him with another immaculately conceived human being? (Oh come on, you don’t think there are some pretty heavy Jesus overtones in Kyle XY?)

At any rate, I like this show. The various members of Kyle’s extended family have grown on me; particularly the brother, who has matured into a good little actor. Some of the most poignant moments from last season were scenes when he and his “girlfriend” were going through the hardships of talking about her Cancer.

And then there’s Matt Dallas, who is unabashedly charming and innocent as Kyle. He was a good choice for this role, because there is something almost inhuman about him. His line readings are sometimes mechanical, and his facial expressions somewhat limited, but that only lends to his credibility as a manufactured object. Though, for the entire first season, I thought maybe he was wearing a wig because his hair always looked the same. Even in a windstorm, it had that “fresh-out-of-the-package-and-glued-to-the-head” kind of look. But in Season Three, it looks like he’s progressed beyond that style.

Too bad he can’t also progress beyond his annoying girlfriend, whose pouting and prissy personality is as bland as Tilapia. After two years of playing the martyr, I think it’s time she moved to college for good. And took her mean old mother with her.

But until that happens, I’ll still tune in to see what taboo topics the show plans to investigate this year. Maybe Kyle’s female counterpart Jessie will decide she really wants to be a transsexual or a cross-dresser, or both. Or Kyle’s supportive adopted parents will start a weekly “key party,” where they begin swapping more than stories with the neighbors. Whatever the major themes might become, you can bet that Kyle XY will explore them with honesty and integrity. Because that is the key to Kyle XY. The show has heart. And with heart, you can conquer anything.

But that’s just me. What do you think of Kyle XY?

My New Years Substitution

So it’s the first day of the year. The first day of the rest of your life. The day when you look forward with excitement and awe to all the possibilities the New Year might hold for you. Will you get a new job? Will you fall in love? Will the public ever get tired of hearing about Britney Spears?

In other words, this should be a very optimistic time. And yet this morning I woke up with a bit of a headache, and a day filled with dark clouds and pouring rain. Not exactly what you’d call a buoyant beginning for 2008. So instead of greeting the New Year with energy and enthusiasm, I crawled in bed and went back to sleep.

But now I’m wide awake, and sober, and my mood hasn’t gotten much better. What happened? Last night I was so upbeat and full of energy, and today I feel like I just hit BANKRUPT on “Wheel of Fortune”. Other than residual lethargy from an evening of celebrating with friends, there shouldn’t be this gloomy feeling pervading my spirit. And yet, I find myself looking toward the future with uncertainty…perhaps even doubt. Will 2008 be better than 2007? Will the War in Iraq ever end? Will someone please explain to me why Paris Hilton is important?

I find myself filled with so many questions that I can’t quite see the future as clearly as I thought I did. So instead of writing the traditional list of New Years Resolutions, I decided to deconstruct my many thoughts and fears, and try to figure out why I have so much angst about the coming year. A substitution for the typical resolutions, if you will. (It also prevents me from having to make any promises I know I won't keep. Like giving up my $4 cup of Starbucks coffee, for instance.)

So here is a partial list of my questions for 2008:

Will the Writer’s Strike ever end? Or is Winter television going to be filled with a slew of reality shows like “Family Fight Club” and “Skid Row Nation?”

Will iTunes ever give us a “Free Song of the Week” that’s actually good?

Will steroid use in sports darken the careers of more legendary athletes?

Will the Spice Girls be as popular as they were before?

Will J K Rowling have success past Harry Potter?

Will Hilary become the first female President?

Will (fill in the blank) ever come out of the closet?

Will my 1-year-old iPod continue its swift journey toward irrelevancy?

Will the real Lindsay Lohan please stand up?

These are the kinds of questions plaguing me today as I take stock of the New Year. I’m sure you have a few of your own, so feel free to add them to the list.

Hopefully tomorrow I’ll be a little more optimistic.

The Danger of Watching Donny and Marie; The Joy of Resurrecting Sonny and Cher

Christmas is a great time to reunite with friends and family, and to share happy memories of times past. (Or is that New Year’s?) Either way, I had a very interesting Christmas this year when it came to the presents I received. Apparently I must reek of nostalgia for TV variety shows of the 1970s, because a lot of my gifts seemed to share that common theme. (I kid you not.) I was given “The Best of Donny and Marie,” “The Sonny and Cher Show,” “The Best of Laugh-In,” “Love, American Style Season One” and the weirdest selection of the bunch, “Paul Lynde’s Halloween Special.”

Some people might consider this a collection of bargain bin items. But I was actually looking forward to sitting down and reconnecting with some of the shows I thought were so great when I was younger. (With the possible exception of Paul Lynde's special, which I'd never heard of before.)

First in the line-up was “The Best of Donny and Marie,” which comprised several of their greatest episodes from the first two seasons of the show. But after watching the first three, I was surprised the show ever made it to Season Two. (Let alone Episode Two.) The sad part is that the DVD is being released as “the best” of the series; which makes me wonder just how bad “the worst” of the series is. (Perhaps those would be more interesting to watch.)

The jokes were horrible, the sketches were childish, and the singing was mostly lip-synched. How did I ever think this show was good? Or maybe I never really did; I just thought I was supposed to. After all, Donny and Marie are a part of American culture. We grew up with them; or at least I did. And though I don’t think the show translates well in today’s more sophisticated TV environment, I’m sure the simplicity of themes and dialogue might do well on a channel like Nickelodeon, or perhaps in conjunction with a show like “The Teletubbies.”

I’ll admit I’ve always had a place in my heart for Donny and Marie. Not because I was such a big fan, but because they represented the kind of nerdy optimism I wanted so badly to believe in. Their perfect smiles and happy-go-lucky attitudes were as foreign to me as the countries we’ve bombed and invaded over the past several years. Perky was not accepted in rural Ohio like it is in Hollywood; especially from a boy. But on television every week, Donny and Marie reminded me that anything was possible; even if it meant using a laugh track and ice skates to accomplish it.

So maybe my happy memories of “The Donny and Marie Show” were more about what Donnie and Marie represented rather than the actual show itself. They taught me to look for the silver lining and never wear spandex in public, and for that I will always be grateful. Their shows, however, could use a major facelift.

And that's when I wondered whether I was getting into some dangerous territory. If I didn't like the Donny and Marie show as much as I thought I did, what did that mean for the rest of my 70s memories?

Next on the viewing agenda was “The Paul Lynde Halloween Special,” which is just as creepy as you might imagine. Mr. Lynde, a regular on Hollywood Squares and Bewitched, is just not interesting enough to carry his own show. He’s much better served as a supporting player, using his signature vocal inflections to deliver a ribald punch line or two. But in this TV special, which only recently became available on DVD, he is horribly upstaged by the long list of celebrity guest stars, Donny and Marie among them.

Margaret Hamilton, the Wicked Witch in “The Wizard of Oz” reprises her famous role for the special, and is humorously aided by Witchipoo from the old “HR PufnStuf” series. Together, they drive the show forward, as Paul Lynde sort of stands around looking miserable. The highlight of the show is a horrible disco version of Harold Arlen’s “That Old Black Magic,” uncomfortably sung by Florence Henderson, who dances around the set in a floor length sequin black dress accompanied by dancers in orange Afros. Screechingly bad!

Two down. Three to go.

Finally, I decided to watch a little of the “Sonny and Cher Show,” just to make sure my memories of 70s television weren’t being irrevocably tainted by our current atmosphere of terror and cynicism. And to my relief, the show is as funny and campy today as it was when it first aired oh so many decades ago. Cher is much younger, of course, and her nose looks different. But the chemistry between these two is unquestionable.

Every time Sonny thinks he’s going to win an argument, Cher easily deflects his zingers with her deadpan attitude and delivery. It’s classic comedy, brilliantly marketed to the masses by two people who always seemed like the epitome of cool. Even when they were arguing, they were fun.

And then of course, there are Cher’s many costumes and solo performances, which have been copied and duplicated by drag queens all over the world. No wonder she’s been able to survive so long. People keep resurrecting her persona. (Although at this point, I’m not sure how many more resurrections her body can physically take.) Nevertheless, I loved this show when I was younger, and I still love it today.

Having restored my faith in the legitimacy of my happy memories, I will next move onto “Laugh In” and “Love, American Style.” But right now, I just want to bask in the glow of at least one childhood recollection restored, and one more Christmas celebrated.

I can’t even think about 2008 yet.

The Strange Facial Contortions of Celine Dion

I was watching Celine Dion perform on the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree Lighting last week, and was shocked to find that her strange mannerisms (once thought to be eccentric) were now getting severely out of control. As Ms. Dion sang her two lip-synched numbers, she raised and lowered her eyebrows, pursed her lips, bulged her eyes in and out, and generally overplayed every facial muscle she had. The result was an oddly entertaining performance that made me wonder if Celine Dion is actually the first documented case of living animation. There simply is no other explanation for the fluidity of movement from one bizarre expression to another.

Perhaps because she was lip-synching her songs rather than actually singing them, she felt the need to do more with her face. Or perhaps she just doesn’t understand the concept of “less is more” when it comes to interpreting the lyrics of a song. For example, you don’t actually have to act like a snowflake when you say the word “snowflake.” Although the word flake probably would apply very well here.

I’m not saying anything about Ms. Dion’s vocal abilities, because they are undeniably exceptional. She has an incredible range. But to watch her actually performing a song has become almost painful. Her over-the-top facial orchestrations are beginning to remind me of a young Norma Desmond. Or an old Dakota Fanning. It just didn’t seem like her expressions were connected to anything going on inside her head. If in fact there was anything going on at all.

Not only was Celine’s contribution to the show lip-synched, but it was probably also taped days earlier. After all, Celine sang LIVE on “Dancing with the Stars” the night before. It’s doubtful she would take a red-eye all the way back to NYC, when she’d already been there the week before. And why she decided to sing dull songs, I don’t know, but they certainly put a damper on the otherwise peppy proceedings. (With the possible exception of Taylor Swift’s uneven deconstruction of “Silent Night.”) Maybe Celine was afraid to lip-synch to a faster song because she couldn’t methodically construct that many expressions in enough time to fill the space.

But that’s just my opinion. What’s your opinion of Celine’s mannerisms?

The Dark Comic Genius of Alec Baldwin

Alec Baldwin has always been a favorite of mine, ever since I first saw him in “Married to the Mob” oh so many decades ago. And despite his many embarrassing scandals in the press, I still consider him to be a great comic talent. His deadpan expressions and masterful delivery are one of the best things about NBC’s often hilarious, “30 Rock.”

On the show, Alec is basically playing the same arrogant and twisted character he played on “Will and Grace,” and several other sitcoms. But here he has elevated the persona to iconic status, forever insuring his place among television’s great comedic characters. Unfortunately, his problematic personal life threatens to undo all this. (I still cringe at the embarrassing phone message he left for his pig-faced daughter. Or rather, the daughter he called a selfish little pig, which is not exactly a term of endearment.)

Ironically, I’ve actually witnessed this darker side of Mr. Baldwin, when I happened to see him several years ago as he was coming out of the Equinox Gym on the Upper West Side. Dressed in a very unflattering grey sweat suit, and sporting a white towel around his neck, he looked like a pasty-faced donut maker rather than a Hollywood Leading Man. As he brushed past me talking on his cell phone, I couldn’t help but overhear his rather loud conversation. That’s because he wasn’t actually talking. He was sort of yelling. Screaming, actually. At someone I assumed must be his manager or agent, because the conversation sounded something like this:

“Don’t they know who they’re dealing with? Do they seriously think I would work for that? If they want Alec Baldwin, they’re going to have to come up with more money. I don’t do charity work.”

Ironically, the next time I crossed paths with Mr. Baldwin was at a rather swanky charity event we were both attending. Actually, he was the one attending it, and I was there to work. I was hired to play Batman for the event, which is not my specialty or anything; I just happened to be good friends with an event planner and he used to throw me these side gigs every now and then. Put on a costume, parade around a party for a couple hours, and go home with three hundred dollars. Humiliating, yes. Lucrative, sort of. Rewarding, no.

At one point during the evening, Alec breezed past me on his way to the V.I.P. area, and I saw him look at me for a moment. Was he about to say something clever or witty? Or perhaps engage me in a little friendly repartee? Dream on. I think he may have smirked at my costume, but that’s about it.

Later, I saw him sitting at the top of the stairs behind me, perhaps frowning down at my very existence. (See top photo, me in Batman suit with Alec sitting at top of stairs. Bottom photo, horribly pixilated close-up of Alec sitting at top of stairs. Is that a camera he’s holding? Is he actually taking a picture of the back of my costume? Yikes!)

Despite all this, I am still enamored of the man and his talent. His comic skills have been highlighted over and over again on “Saturday Night Live” and other TV shows, in films and theater, as well as his current brilliance on “30 Rock.” And though his personal life may be in constant turmoil, his life in front of the camera is nothing but winning.

But that’s just me. What do you think of Alec Baldwin?

We’d Like to Give this Sitcom “Back to You”

It seems like the must-see laugh-out-loud sitcom is slowly becoming a rare species. Except for “How I Met Your Mother,” "The Office," and the new “Big Bang Theory,” I rarely watch a sitcom these days and experience anything resembling mirth. Most of them seem like tired versions of older sitcoms thrown together in a blender, and spit out as something new.

A prime example of this is the aptly titled “Back to You.” Because after watching one or two episodes of this new Kelsey Grammer/Patricia Heaton vehicle, you’ll be saying exactly that. Not only is the show not funny, but watching it will give you an incredible feeling of Déjà vu. After all, isn’t Kelsey just playing Frasier with a new job? Instead of a talk show host, he’s now a newscaster? (That’s a big stretch.) And doesn’t it seem like Patricia’s character simply ditched Raymond and his obnoxious relatives to become a single mother?

My point is, I don’t see anything particularly original about this series, which still portrays Grammer’s character as a middle-aged self-absorbed snob looking for love in all the wrong places. I mean, am I missing something here? Is there a subtle character variation that I’m not seeing? If so, I must also be missing how different Heaton’s character is from the constantly put-upon wife she played in “Everybody Loves Raymond.”

It’s like when you go to a thrift shop and pick up a macramé belt from the sixties or a hideous velour shirt from the seventies. They’re so old and familiar, they’ve actually become chic again. I’m not sure if this is what they hoped for with “Back to You.” But the predictable scripts and rehashed scenarios feel like they’ve been gathered from yard sales and bargain basements. Quick and easy to find, but not necessarily satisfying in the long run.

This series would have been much more interesting if Kelsey was a middle-aged pre-op transsexual trying to break into local news, and Patricia was his tough lesbian boss with a heart of gold. Now that would have been worth getting back to you about.

To BEE, Or Not To BEE?

Last summer, when I first learned Jerry Seinfeld was starring in a full-length animated feature, I was intrigued by the possibilities. Would Elaine, Kramer and George show up as cameo Bees? Would the movie be as funny as his old series was? Or would it suffer the so-called Seinfeld curse?

While all these questions were swirling through my mind, I witnessed my first real preview of the movie. A long drawn out mini-sketch featuring Jerry in a Bee costume, being hoisted into the air. Not really funny, but this was a live-action skit after all. The real animated movie would surely be better, right?

Then came a few short previews of the actual movie, which started to look sort of cute. And funny. Or at least clever. But definitely something enjoyable to watch.

However, the same can’t be said for the recent advertising campaign featuring the terribly unfunny “TV Junior” skits. What the Hell is a “TV Junior,” anyway? Did anybody ever explain that phrase to us? Because something about it reeks of condescension. Does it mean the producers don’t think we’re ready for TV Seniors, because those type of commercials would go right over our heads? So instead, they decide to pander to the lowest common denominator with a TV Junior? I’m not sure, but I think I feel insulted.

In my opinion, the TV Junior commercials seem a little desperate. And not particularly funny. But maybe Jerry was afraid that unless he made an appearance in the commercials, people wouldn’t come see the movie. Like we might not be intelligent enough to accept an animated version of him, especially if it was in the form of a bee.

I can’t wait until this movie opens, but not for the reasons you might think. I can’t wait because then they’ll eventually pull all those obnoxious TV Junior commercials out of rotation. They’ve been bombarding us with promos for this movie for a year now, and I’m not so sure I even want to see it anymore. At least not until it comes out on DVD.

But if I go to the theater this weekend, am I also sending a message that TV Juniors are a good marketing tool? And would the industry then perceive this as the new “standard” in movie promotion, and inundate us with millions of them in the future? Or by staying home, am I pulling a Norma Rae without a significant cause to rebel against?

So that leaves me in a little bit of a quandary. To BEE, or Not to BEE? That is the question.

What think you, Fair Reader?

You Have No Idea, I Think I Peed a Little, and Other Overused Jokes in Film and TV

Ever since Jeremy Irons uttered the famous words “You have no idea” in the movie “Reversal of Fortune,” the phrase has become a standard punch line in hundreds of movie and television scripts. It’s an easy joke, as you can put almost any question in front of it and you’re guaranteed a laugh.

“You’re a rather odd person, aren’t you?”
“You have no idea.”

“Is your mother a bad cook?”
“You have no idea.”

“This phrase is horribly overused, don’t you think?”
“You have no idea.”

You’ve probably heard this expression many times without even realizing it. Maybe you even laughed at the reference in every single sitcom it’s ever been employed in. But now that you’re aware movie and television writers use it repeatedly, you’ll be more tuned in to how many times you actually hear it.

Another phrase/joke that has been drummed into our heads is “I think I peed a little.” I can’t even remember what movie or TV show this first appeared in. But soon after that, the joke was used so many times it wasn’t funny anymore. The saying usually occurs when someone is laughing very hard and can’t seem to stop long enough to control their urinary functions. The first time it was used, it was very funny. The second time, it was mildly amusing. But now that it’s become a standard expression in pop culture, I’m beginning to wonder if our nation has a much more serious problem on our hands. Since so many people seem to be affected by Uncontrollable Bladder Syndrome.

My point is, I’m tired of writers going for the easy joke. When I hear the same kind of dialogue and jokes used over and over again, it’s an insult to my intelligence. It’s like saying “You’ve heard this joke before, but you’re so dumb, you won’t realize it’s the same joke if I change the words around a little.” Well, guess what? We’re not that dumb. We know when someone is ripping off an old joke to fill a space. It makes for boring television.

Sitcoms are the worst examples of repeated dialogue. The same writers tend to be moved around in Hollywood, shuffling from one sitcom to another, or one drama to another. So it’s understandable that they bring their same style with them from project to project. But do they also have to bring the same jokes? Can’t they come up with something original they haven’t used before? No wonder there aren’t many sitcoms on television right now. The writers have obviously run out of fresh ideas, and the public is tired of the same recycled material.

But that’s just me. What overused phrases have you noticed on TV or in films?

The Totally Corny and Thoroughly Addictive World of “Dancing with the Stars”

By now, you’ve no doubt seen the very uncomfortable footage of Marie Osmond fainting into a messy slump on this week’s “Dancing with the Stars.” As millions of people watched on live television, America’s former Princess of Paper Roses did what every professional dancer hopes never to experience—loose her footing.

But oddly enough, that’s far from the most shocking thing we’ve ever witnessed on this television show. How about macho football stars like Jerry Rice and Emmitt Smith prancing around in sparkly outerwear? Or Beatles extortionist Heather Mills doing the quickstep with only one leg? But my personal favorite was witnessing Mario Lopez pull himself up from “Saved by the Bell” obscurity to emerge as one of television’s hottest hunks. (I still think he was robbed of the title, though.)

When “Dancing with the Stars” first premiered several years ago, I greeted it with all the enthusiasm of a root canal. The cast list reminded me of the formula they would use on the old “Love Boat” or “Fantasy Island” shows, when they would stuff as many TV and movie has-beens into an episode and hope someone would remember them. The term “Star” had eventually gotten so tarnished from over-usage that anyone who appeared in even one national commercial could be featured as a major talent.

So I gladly skipped the first few episodes, not wanting to waste my time witnessing such an obvious train wreck. But then something weird happened. I turned in one day when nothing else was on, and found myself fascinated with the process. Not only did we observe stars humiliating themselves while learning the Tango, but we also caught glimpses of them tripping and falling down in the rehearsal rooms. I wouldn’t call it ground-breaking television, but it was certainly captivating. To see these B or C list celebrities showing such raw vulnerability while learning to do the Cha Cha provides some of the best behind-the-scenes exploitation since Madonna’s “Truth or Dare” in 1991.

After that, I was hooked. I even ventured into watching “So You Think You Can Dance” during the summer hiatus just to get my fix of sweat and adrenaline. And what I realized was that these two shows had single-handedly taken dancing out of the dark ages and given it a fresh new spin for the 21st Century. Not only that, but the often maligned art of Ballroom Dancing was suddenly cooler than Krumping. Dance studios across the country that were once in danger of cobwebs and wrecking balls suddenly saw a resurgence of eager novices dying to learn the intricacies of the Paso Doble.

And that’s what I find so entertaining about the show. It not only gives us weekly lessons on proper form and technique, but it’s also taught us a very valuable lesson--Dancing is not just for Sissies. There’s a lot of hard work and effort that goes into making it look so easy, and I have to admire anyone who attempts doing it. Even if I’ve never heard of them before. Because it doesn’t matter to me whether it’s a celebrity, a quasi-celebrity or someone like Mark Cuban learning the dances, I will gladly cheer them on for their bravery and determination. After all, it takes a lot of guts to wear spandex and sequins with a straight face on national television. And if it weren’t for “Dancing with the Stars,” I might never have known who Drew Lachey and Sabrina Bryan were. (Who?)

And don’t even get me started on the judges. Forget Len and Bruno, who seem to squabble more than an old married couple, the real star of that panel is Carrie Ann Inaba. If for no other reason than her name, which is so much fun to say. (Try saying it five times fast and you’ll begin sounding like a native Bostonian.)

Is Lisa Williams the Next Jennifer Love Hewitt?

Is psychic ability real? Can people actually communicate with the dead? And most importantly, do Ghost Whisperers really exist or is Jennifer Love Hewitt the only one?

I’ve always had a fascination with psychic phenomenon and paranormal experiences, hoping that one day I might have a mystical encounter of my very own. But it seems like my psychic abilities are somewhat lacking, as the only thing I’ve ever been able to conjure up is a really bad case of acid reflux. And I don’t think I necessarily had to be psychic to do it.

So when Lifetime television began airing the Lisa Williams show, My Life Among the Dead, I was very curious to watch it. Though I must admit, I approached the show with a healthy amount of skepticism. After all, many famous psychics in the past have been publicly discredited. Or they’ve been shown to selectively edit their programs to make it look like they hit the mark 100% of the time. When in actuality, they were just guessing, hoping to strike a nerve with a general statement that might apply to anybody.

“Do you have a father?”

“Yes.”

“And a mother too?”

“Yes. One of each.” Cue for eyes to begin watering.

“Was your father taller than you when you were growing up?”

“Yes, Oh my God!” Cue tears rolling down the face.

“And did your mother ever cook dinner for you?”

“Yes. Wow! How could you possibly know that?” Cue total breakdown and wild audience applause.

Of course I’m being simplistic here, but you get the idea. With these kinds of generalizations, anybody could be psychic. Even George Bush.

So anyway, I began watching Lisa's show and found myself laughing more than disbelieving. Lisa herself is quite a jolly soul, her constant smile reminding me of the Cheshire Cat from "Alice in Wonderland." And I certainly can't deny her likeability. With her English accent and perky/nerdy personality it's impossible not to be fascinated by her.

Especially when she “randomly” approaches people on the street or in her local bakery. Those are my favorite sequences, because I sort of believe them and I sort of don’t. Particularly because she “casually” walks into these venues with an entire crew of lights and cameramen following her. I mean, are we really expected to believe she just happened to find a spirit playing among the donuts and bagels? Would the same thing happen if she went to the Korean Deli next door, or would there be some sort of language barrier?

I also love when people come to her office to be interviewed and she begins talking to spirits who are apparently in the room with her. “Thank you. Yes, thank you, I was wondering about that,” she says to voices that apparently only she can hear. And there I sit, mesmerized that there might actually be spirits guiding what comes out of her mouth. Because she “allegedly” pulls out some pretty intimate details from people’s lives.

The thing I want to know is how much information is Lisa actually given about the person she’s giving a reading to. Does she have their full name and where they’re from? Because the internet is a valuable resource and it would be so easy to find some kind of information on nearly anybody.

I do believe in spooks. I do. I do. I do believe in spooks.

I want to believe Lisa, because I certainly enjoy watching her. But I’m a skeptic at heart. How about you? Have you ever been to a psychic? How was it? Did you believe what he/she had to say, or did it feel like they were guiding you to reveal things before they actually pinpointed them? I’d be curious to know.

Celebrity Stalking in Reverse Leads to Humorous Complications

The term “celebrity stalker” takes on a completely different meaning in the popular weekly web serial “It Happened in Plainfield,” when actual celebrities like George Clooney and Julia Roberts are the ones doing the stalking. This is part of the premise of the fictional comic-mystery, which follows the quirky adventures of an average guy in NJ who discovers a secret society of celebrities watching him from the house across the street. Not only watching, but secretly helping him as well.

Besides Clooney and Roberts, other real actors like Tom Selleck, Ben Affleck and Ellen Degeneres also make appearances in the story, as does the Queen of Media herself, Oprah Winfrey. But what are all these famous faces doing in Plainfield? And why are they so interested in Henson? Finding out is half the fun, as readers come back each week to download the latest free chapter in this ongoing saga.

Since the website’s launch in April, “It Happened in Plainfield” has been entertaining a growing and loyal readership with its humorous narrative and unusual take on suburban living. Thirty-odd chapters have been released to date, with a new episode being posted every Monday. The story is expected to wrap up sometime in December.

“I look forward to it every week, like a soap opera,” says reader Miriam Ricker, who first learned about the story through a co-worker. “But I think the celebrities that are included should get a hold of this and just read the concept. It’s fascinating.”

The concept revolves around a group of famous movie actors who secretly form a philanthropic organization to help affect positive change in society one person at a time. Henson is one of the people they have chosen to help, though at first he doesn’t know it. Then a series of mysterious events take place that eventually lead him to the truth. But that’s only half the story. Along the way, Henson discovers a rival faction that is systematically trying to destroy everything the celebrities have tried to accomplish. But who are they and why is Henson caught in the middle?

“The premise of the story is purposely ridiculous,” says author Michael Latshaw. “And I think that’s why people are enjoying it. You know it’s not true, but there’s still a little part of you that wonders if it could all really happen.”

To find out more about “It Happened in Plainfield,” or to access the ongoing story, please visit http://www.ithappenedinplainfield.com

Why I Don’t Play Video Games

I am always amazed when someone is willing to sit in front of a television set for hours at a time just so they can get to the next level of a video game. I myself have never been interested in this type of activity, because you don’t really win anything when the game is over. Sure, you get a cool cyber car to drive in, and you may live in a very expensive cyber home, with beautiful cyber kids and all the cyber money you could want. But so what?

Once you leave the television set, you also leave all those exciting acquisitions behind. It’s like the old adage, “you can’t take it with you.” Only in this case, you can’t take it anywhere, because none of it really exists to begin with.

Now if video games were constructed differently, and you really won something at the end of every game, I might never stop playing them. After all, I love to win stuff. I just like the stuff I win to be made out of physical materials, not colorful animated pixels.

It doesn’t mean I look down on anyone who spends their time this way, though. I just don’t have the energy myself to fight an army of cyber villains when there are so many other things to occupy my manpower. Like fighting an army of mounting bills, or slashing through an overgrown lawn. These are the true villains I fight on a daily basis. And the cool thing is, when I defeat them, I really do get satisfaction at the end. Because that’s one less bill to pay and a few more weeks respite from lawn mowing.

But I know I’m in the minority here. I have plenty of friends addicted to Playstation or Xbox who constantly tell me about their latest challenge or recent victory. Which is fine, except when they start talking about these cyber victories as if they were actual accomplishments, like going to Harvard or finding a cure for Cancer. One of my friends even went so far as to plan an engagement party for his upcoming nuptials to Princess Zelda of the Hyrule Royal Family. And he was serious about it too. (He has since been diagnosed with a complex psychological disorder, though he assures me he’ll be fully recovered before the wedding takes place.)

I do like the graphics in video games, though. As a graphic artist, I know what kind of work is involved in creating those incredible images. It ain’t easy. And the detail and imagination that goes into some of these games is incredible. But I’d much rather sit and watch the graphics go by, like watching a cartoon, than have to pick up a gamepad and participate.

But that’s just me. What about you? What do you like best about video games?