Mmmmm... ovie

Had a Very Simpsons Weekend: saw the movie and went to the 7-11 Kwik-E-Mart on the south side of Chicago. Both were fun, altho neither were the Best. Whatever. Ever.

Movie: Basically an oversized episode, but sort of like the show – still funnier than most of the "regular" movie comedies. Liked that they focused on The Simpsons and told more of a personal story than an overstuffed cameo-athon. I haven't watched the show with any regularity for years, and seeing the movie made me want to tune in again. Which, I suppose, makes the Fox executives very happy. D'oh!

Kwik-e-Mart: They were out of Krusty-Os and Buzz Cola, but I did get a chance to have a Squishee amd eat an "official" Simpsons donut which, shockingly, tasted like... a frosted donut with sprinkles. Still, tho – a really fun (and pretty ballsy) promotion. It's less of a total store takeover, but the signage set it apart and the plastic characters gave the store more... character than normal. Fun. Here are a couple more shots:

One-Word Review, Vol. II: As Ron might say...

Brilliant.

Guess the One-Word Review, Vol. I: Epilogue

Valerie wins, but Frank didn't exactly lose. It's kind of a return to the Pumpkins' roots, but it feels like they dug a little deep – I'd've much preferred a Siamese Dream/Mellon Collie mix than this Gish-y/Machina mashup. So I guess it "rocks," but it leaves me totally flat. I can't imagine when I'll listen to a song off this album again. The Pumpkins are better when they wear their power ballad heart on their sleeve.

Overall, tremendously disappointing. Here's hoping the return of Rage Against the Machine fares much better.

No, no – it’s Café Steamer, not Cleveland…

Given that I’ve crossed The Mendoza Line and I’ve got a wedding to appear in and wanna buy a coolass suit, I’ve started to explore the world of high-sodium, low-calorie frozen meals. The immediate options for food where I work blow, and I’m trying to find an evening balance between regular ol’ weekday dinner and fantabulous nights out on the town.

I suppose I’d do better actually cooking healthy meals for myself, but that ain’t gonna happen. I also suppose that I’m upping my salt intake rather dramatically, but whatev – I’ll start drinking more water. The larger concern is are these even edible?

We’ll see. Given that I’m loosening the reviewer’s shackles a bit with this blog, here’s the first installment of a (potentially) recurring segment...

Dining with Mr. Freeze
Vol. I: Healthy Choice Café Steamers: Cajun Chicken and Shrimp
Who knew they could make a double-boiler of sorts using microwaveable plastic? Why, the R&D guys at Healthy Choice, silly! It is pretty novel, tho – you microwave the whole bowl and then pour the top (food) into the bottom (sauce) to eat it.

Which is not as dirty as it sounds.

Anyway, the chicken didn’t turn to rubber and the shrimp actually cooked thru, so bonus points for both. To top it off (or bottom it, I guess) the sauce featured… flavor! So overall:

Recipe Realization: Good. Sometimes these things suffer from Airplane Food Syndrome (this was when they served food), where instead of just giving you a halfway decent sandwich, they try to microwave haute cuisine at 35,000 feet. But this tasted like the entrée’s title.

Filling Rating: Solid. Ate it while catching up on a bunch of friends’ blogs and didn’t feel like immediately running to the vending machine.

So Mr. Freeze says yes. What do you say? I'm conceivably eating a fairly large handful of these a week, so lemme know if you want to hear more about the aforementioned Cafe Steamers, Lean Cuisine's Paninis and Dinnertime Selects, Smart Ones and more.

Guess the One-Word Review, Vol. I

Rocks?
Sucks?
Bores?
Scores?

Worst Book = Best Movie?

Maybe. For the first couple Harry Potter movies, it was enough (barely) to parade the high points of the books on the screen with sort of a “there, see? We built a Hogwarts set!” attitude. Azkaban was the turning point, where Alfonso Cuaron begin filming the movies like, you know, movies as opposed to theme park rides.

Altho, full confession – I’m totally going to the Harry Potter theme park when it opens. First in line.

Back to the recap and review. Goblet of Fire failed to live up to the bar set by Azkaban, much of that blame landing squarely on the disheveled shoulders of Michael Gambon and his horrible “homeless hippie” interpretation of Dumbledore. But good news, Muggles – Order of the Phoenix might just clear the bar altogether.

As the source, the fifth novel is prolly the weakest of the series. I say prolly assuming (desperately hoping) that the soon-to-arrive-seventh tome will send Harry off in style, unlike Revenge of the Sith, Lemony Snicket or The Sopranos. It’s where the series really started to bloat (hundreds of pages building up to the OWL exams where… they pass and everything’s fine) and is dragged down by the jarring characterization of Harry becoming a teenager. Where he spends the first third of the book being angry, stomping around, speaking in ALL CAPS to prove how angry he is, yelling at friends and acting generally, well, angry.

But the necessary exercise of trimming the fat to transition it to film has helped this story immensely. Instead of reading chapter after chapter of ANGRY HARRY, we see it in Daniel Radcliffe’s performance. Instead of drowning in detail over his obsession with Cho, we get the necessary notes that kill that relationship while sowing the seeds of another. And, thankfully, instead of diverting our attention with concern over who’s to be Quidditch Captain, we focus on the fact that, you know, the Dark Lord has returned and there’s war in the air.

Aside from a few iffy matte shots in the broom ride through London sequence, the film looks magnificent. Gone are the awkward CGI moments and flow-killing special effects sequences. Everything is shot beautifully and integrated seamlessly. Not a frame of film is wasted on unnecessary exposition, and what plot points do need to be explained are done so by zooming through dynamic newspaper headlines of the Daily Prophet – a nicely magical update to a traditional storytelling device.

If there’s one criticism to make, it’s that the end feels a little eh, but that’s a problem from the original pages. It’s a bit rushed and some of the big reveals fall slightly flat, but never fear – it’s nowhere near a letdown on the level of, say, Matrix Revolutions. Overall, it’s a well-trimmed tale told terrifically well. Enjoy.

Don't Forget Singing the Bee Lyrics!

We've seen this before. Armageddon vs. Deep Impact. Volcano vs. Dante's Peak. Antz vs. A Bug's Life. Two movies, two studios, one plot. This time, strangely, it's not dueling asteroid or eruption or insect flicks, it's two competing karaoke shows. I guess it's not shocking, given the success of stuff like Dance Dance Revolution, Guitar Hero, American Idol, etc. What is surprising is that one of them doesn't suck out loud. Read on to find out which one.

The Singing Bee is on NBC, and hosted by former N'Sync-er and Dancer with the Stars, the unfortunately named Joey Fat One. The second he frantically ran-danced through the aisles, randomly picking singers from the crowd, it was as if I could hear the bow of the ship scraping against an iceberg. The show is an abject disaster, highlighted (if only briefly) by the fact that the scantily clad backup dancers are called The Honey Bees and are dressed like... honeybees:
The flow of the show is that several audience members are called up on stage where they, along with Joey Fat One, sort of pseudo-dance to the everpresent music. The house band, featuring a variety of brutal cover singers, launches into a song and the contests must complete the lyrics. The second they make a misstep, a loud buzzer sounds and Joey Fat One smiles. They keep doing this to whittle it down, and the last singer standing wins some incredibly small cash prize. It feels like a particularly bad Saturday Night Live sketch.

Don't Forget the Lyrics, while unoriginal on several levels, is actually the better of the two. Altho it feels like a rushed ripoff of Singing Bee's karaoke concept with a title that's, oh, a bit too on the nose, they smartly "borrowed" Who Wants to Be a Millionaire's format. Instead of a cavalcade of hacks, we track the progress of one singer as he or she butchers several songs en route to a million dollar prize. Wayne Brady makes a great Regis, there are three similar lifelines, etc... it's basically the same show, set to music.

But honestly, it's harmless fun. Certainly not high art, not exactly appointment viewing, but worth a watch and worlds better than, well... The Singing Bee ;)

Improved with Age or Just Old?

While I technically grew up in the 70s, that wave of nostalgia meant nothing to me, as I wasn't really into pop culture things at 8, when they ended. I suppose if, instead of flared jeans, people had gotten back into Garanimals, I'd've been all over it. But really, I'm a child of the 80s.

Two relics of that era, Optimus Prime and John McClane have bashed their way back onto the big screen – how do they hold up? First, Transformers. Unfortunately, this is a bit like discovering a slice of limburger that you left in your toy chest 20 years ago. Full disclosure – I read the script for this a year and a half ago, so some of the issues weren't a big surprise. Also, I saw a screening about a week ago, but didn't want to run afoul of NDAs and such. Because what I would have posted is that this was a mess.

I used to consider myself a shameless Michael Bay fan, but over time I've realized that it really means I just liked Armageddeon. He puts big robots on the screen pretty well in this one, but everything else is a disaster. The plot has holes you could drive an Optimus Prime-size semi thru, most of the performances (particularly Jons Voight and Tuturro) are abysmal, and the pacing drags on and on. At some point, someone will rip the fight scenes off the DVD – that's worth a watch, but otherwise... not so much. Live Free or Die Hard, however, is a pleasant surprise. It doesn't really feel like "a Die Hard movie," in that he's not trapped alone in a building – it's more like Die Hard with a Vengeance in that Bruce Willis (with sidekick) are thrown together in a sprawling adventure. Full disclosure #2: I saw this movie at the end of what friends and I called "DH-Day," where we watched the first three movies before wrapping up the evening with number four.

Yippee-ki-yay.

But here's the thing – part four is fun. McClane has aged well, and they've acknowledged the fact that he's not twenty years younger. Justin Long as the hapazard associate is funny without being Richard Pryor in Superman III. The (mostly practical) stunts are spectacular, even tho they start to strain credibility pretty quickly. For sequels like these, much of their job is just to not piss all over the franchise, and never fear – this isn't Blues Brothers 2000 or Phantom Menace. It's a solid shot of old-school adrenaline that's definitely worth a watch.

Best. Five. Seconds. Ever.

I'm not the biggest "check out this funny link" guy in the world, but... check out this funny link.

Tagged by a Tough One

Well, not Valerie, who did the actual tagging, but the tag itself – list your favorite movies. Traditionally, I get all film geek at this question, insisting that I can't compare apples to oranges, that I'll only pick the top films of a specific genre, blah blah blah. Rather than belabor you with a ton of internal deliberation, I'll just go with gut responses (and photos ;) So this is isn't well considered, it's prolly not too accurate, but I'll count down my five regardless:
#5: The Matrix. The first one. Every so often, I make a concerted effort to pretend the sequels never existed, dig out the DVD and am surprised at how fantastic this flick still is. While bullet time has lost some of its gee-whiz appeal, the movie itself hasn't lost a bit of its power. From the "he's beginning to believe" moment when Neo wrangles the helicopter on, this one's still a killer.

#4: Scream Trilogy. Speaking of killers, my favorite horror series makes the list. The pop culture parts are less relevant now, and the meta-appeal of characters being aware of the film versions of their peril has now been overdone, but at the time, Scream was like that shot of adrenaline plunged into Uma Thurman's chest in Pulp Fiction. Set the (fairly stupid) horror industry on its ear, turning what's traditionally an exercise in exploitation into a hyper-literate whodunit... and kept the momentum thru two remarkably solid sequels.

#3: Empire Strikes Back. Another exercise in pretending a certain section of the saga doesn't exists (the prequels instead of the sequels), but if you can forget Teenakin and the Jar-Jars remember how big a deal it was when Darth Vader said "I am your father." It's become kind of cliche to say that Empire's the best of the Star Wars saga, but watch it again – it's an incredible mix of action and emotion, pyrotechnics and pathos.
#2: Raiders of the Lost Ark. I almost went with another "whole saga" vote here, but a) Temple of Doom, while not as bad as I originally remembered, still ain't great and b) dunno how Part IV will turn out... yet. Last Crusade was a fantastic return to form – but the form was founded with Raiders. It's Lucas doing what he does well (story, not script), Spielberg at his absolute best and Harrison Ford before he started making stuff like Firewall. An absolutely perfect adventure.

#1. The Lord of the Rings. Yes, the Extended Editions and yes, the whole damn thing, as I consider it one twelve-hour movie. One can quibbles with a few details and someone will eventually surpass the special effects, but for raw grandeur and sheer spectacular emotion, it can't be beat. I have, on occasion, sat and watched all three extended edition DVDs in a row – it's a hell of a day. Confession: I got a little teary the first time I saw Rivendell. Anyway, the most impressive example of consistent filmmaking vision I know.

Some honorable mentions that occurred along the way: Back to the Future Trilogy, particularly Part II, which I think is beyond brilliant. The New Jersey Trilogy consisting of Clerks, Chasing Amy and Clerks II (ignore Mallrats and Jay & Silent Bob, etc.) And can't forget the two great two-letter sequels, T2 and X2.

Frank and Chris, you're it. Everyone else – thoughts?

Superheroes Suit Me

Ok, lemme preface this by saying I'm a Batman guy. I don't read him consistently anymore (have gotten a little more Marvel than DC), but how can one argue with a man driven half (at least) insane by blind rage, keeping himself going only by waging an endless, unwinnable revenge quest to strike holy terror into the black hearts of evil criminals? Don Quixote, my ass. Plus, Catwoman. C'mon.

And I loved Batman Begins. It regularly shoots out for Best Superhero Movie with X2, the most recently viewed generally being on top. So I'm biased. That said, WB released a promo image of the new Batsuit, and while I'm well aware of the perils of commenting on still shots of costumes (remember how terrible the X-Men looked? and how great Superman looked? Whoops.) prior to seeing them onscreen, I'm gonna take a shot regardless. And I'm gonna do it without resorting to any of that "Holy Insert Pun Here" Adam West/Burt Ward nonsense that still haunts my dreams. So click the pic for a bigger shot and read on.

Given that trying to leverage the cloth comic look would land us squarely in the Christopher Reeve camp, I think they've done a fantastic job with this costume. It fits with the design ethic of military suit parts put to another use, much like the Batmobile (I'm not sold on the Batpod, but that's another post). Plus, it doesn't have a big yellow target in the center or nipples. More detail...

Things I like:

• Multiple pieces in the cowl means Batman can finally turn his head. The world's greatest crimefighter goes through life with about a 30 degree cone of vision? Um, no. "Hey, criminal cohorts – I've figured out how we can finally defeat our mortal enemy... approach him from the side!"
  
• Spikes on his arms are retractable. Otherwise he'd have a hard time fitting thru doors and alleys.
• It looks like armor that goes over his muscles, not armor that's made of muscles.
• He's standing – and denting – on a police car. 9-1-1- is a joke in Gotham, too! Take that, 5-0!
  

Things I don't like:

• The utility belt's still strangely gold and a little crotchy. Yes, we can assume Batman's packing a high-caliber weapon down south. Move on.
• Ears are still too big. It's as if some D-girl keeps saying "But people won't understand that he's a Bat, man." They look slightly streamlined, but should be more like short nubs. Better balance.
• Wish the cape was bigger/cooler. Supposedly it's got some powers of its own, but it should be almost a living extension of his hate and rage. Not like Christian Bale tied a towel around his neck.

Overall I'm good with it. And having gotten a fairly detailed script synopsis a few months ago, I'm fairly confident that the flick will rock. For now, I believe in Harvey Dent.

Fant-eh-stic Bore, Too

The first Fantastic Four flick certainly didn't live up to its title. This one's a bit better, altho I dunno if they're gonna get to the point where they have to consider what to name Fantastic Four... IV.

Anyway, the reason this one succeeds slightly is that it's freed from the burden of exposition. We know who the Four are, we know what Fantastic things they can do, so it's good to see them just do it. Human Torch's fire effects seem to have improved, and they had a bit more fun with Mr. Fantastic's stretchability, but The Thing still looks and acts like... a guy in a rubber rock suit. Jessica Alba's basically her own special effect, altho they do saddle her (not as fun as it sounds) with a weird wig/dye job and bizarrely blue contacts.

The new wrinkle this time is the arrival of the Silver Surfer, who looks like the morphy T-1000 from Terminator 2... on a surfboard. He works for Galactus, the Destroyer of Worlds, who sends the Surfer to scout out worlds for him to, well, destroy. In the comics, Galactus is a really big guy who actually eats planets. The movie shows him as an indistinct cloud that engulfs Earth. I get that a giant in a pink hat eating the world prolly doesn't work well on film but a big cloud is still basically a big cloud.

There's a lot of hand-wringing about Mr. Fantastic and the Invisible Woman's wedding, proving that no action movie can exist without cliched character drama. There's a hardass army general, proving that a moral compass or common sense don't appear on any recruiting (or Central Casting) form. There's Dr. Doom again, proving that Hollywood still wants more villains so they can sell more action figures. There's the second Stan Lee cameo of the summer, proving that we should stop paying him homage. And the whole thing feels really poorly paced, proving that director Tim Story is a Chris Columbus-level hack.

What works? The races and chases with the Surfer are fun. Chris Evans highlights the film again as Johnny Storm. His banter with Ben Grimm is amusing. And it's short.

Should you go? Dunno. If you're a big Fantastic Four fan, you'll likely be both pleased and pissed as it gets as many notes wrong as it does right. If you're not, you'll likely slot it in somewhere between Daredevil and Ghost Rider in terms of iffy superhero movies. If you're a kid, you'll likely enjoy it, altho you're also not likely reading this. So overall, prolly not – Netflix The Incredibles instead.

13th Time's a Charm

Ok, just to clear the air – I was "in" for Ocean's 11, and thought the only real problem with 12 was that it wasn't called Ocean's Dozen. The Julia Roberts mistaken identity stuff was a bit misguided, and the whole thing smacked a bit of having been dreamed up over too much vino on Clooney's Lake Como veranda, but still – harmless.

Regardless of how far 12 fell from the tree, 13 is a refreshing return to form. There's little to no unnecessary exposition (the line "it's not their fight" explains why Roberts and Catherine Zeta-Jones are absent) and the reason for being is simple and fun – revenge. Al Pacino, an evil casino owner (are there good ones?) named Bank, gypped the crew's mentor out of money and the shock drove him to the hospital. The gang comes up with a plan to bankrupt Bank and bury his opening night gala.

And... that's it. The rest of the flick follows the ups and downs of getting it done. The scheme is brilliant, it's shot with style, and this time the cast lets you in on the fun. It's not high art - if caper movies do nothing for you, this ain't gonna change your mind. But if the idea of watching a bunch of supercool guys pull a supercool scheme, all the while acting... supercool, then there are way worse ways to spend ten bucks and two hours.

So-So pranos

After successfully avoiding getting spoiled on Monday, I hunkered down to watch the Sopranos series finale last night. Funny story – right at the end of the episode, while Meadow was parking and Creepy Guy went to the bathroom, the DVR recording ran out early. Thinking I missed some shocking revelations, I dialed it up on On Demand, fast forwarded to the end and – less funny story – didn't miss a thing. I realize this isn't news at this point, but thought I'd share my views.

Overall, eh. Maybe even feh. I wasn't surprised that it didn't end with a bloodbath or 80s style freeze frame, but it was still pretty annoying. Yet typical. From the 18+ month breaks between reduced-episode seasons to the excruciating explorations of less-than-secondary characters to satisfy the creators' whims, the show unfortunately evolved from a brilliant, breakthrough take on a tired genre to a self-important exercise in indulgence.

The series slid so far off the rails, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, but even the things it used to do well were botched – Phil getting his head shot and then crushed by a car full of babies while random onlookers laugh and vomit is smacks more of Naked Gun than Sopranos.

And it ended that way. I guess I get the point, that they've made it thru their immediate trials, but their life will always be a series of looking over your shoulder moments, but it felt so inconsequential that it's hard to get invested in it. When a show thumbs its nose at you, trying to flaunt its supposed superiority, it better deliver. And this was a few peppers short of a Satriale's sandwich.

For those in search of closure:

Ok, this isn't what I had for lunch, but...

...it is what I had for dinner over the weekend at onesixtyblue. That's their signature dish, the Delmonico, a perfectly marbled ribeye topped with carmelized shallots and watercress salad with potato puree (i.e. mashed potatoes) and shallot sauce. I'm not the biggest steak guy in the world, but this was like some sort of benevolent meat god slicing off pieces of himself for you to enjoy. Unreal.

Speaking of biggest guys in the world, this one was hanging out at the bar:
Yes, MJ himself, here shown perhaps finishing off the last of his Maine Diver Sea Scallops (which I also loved – perhaps there's a god of shellfish as well). I was under the impression he didn't own the restaurant anymore; maybe he still has a stake, maybe he still comes for the steak. Regardless, it was good to see him hold court again, even if that meant telling stories to a circle of his buddies.

Service takes a tad to get used to, in that the waiter puts some strength behind his suggestions ("I've ordered you a cheese course" or "under no circumstances should you order the squab"), but they proved to be dead-on. And once you settle in, it's terrific – his offer with the cheese course he insists on was "I'll buy it if you don't love it." And we did.

Dinner might cost in the neighborhood of the restaurant's name, but onesixtyblue's well worth it. Ask for Stephen and enjoy.

Blogundrum

While I'm not struggling to justify my existence, haunted by memories of another life, I do find myself a bit lost. It's about this blog. I originally created it to build up a portfolio of sorts in order to pursue a job critiquing pop culture media. As Some Guy's favorite guy might say, "Mission Accomplished." Not that I got said job, but I've filed enough entries for that purpose should the opportunity arise.

So.

An unexpected bonus of blogging has been reconnecting with a bunch of friends, so I'll definitely still hang around and comment. While life has taken some turns that take me away from the keyboard more, I'm still interested in posting – but I'm toying with what to post. I don't want to just do daily updates, as there are a million of those, and it'd be mostly filled with rants about working in the ass end of advertising – even I'm not interested in that.

So I turn it over to you, my (few but loyal) readers. Should I blog about...
...nothing, just abandoning the whole deal
...the same basic stuff, 60 word reviews of movies and tv, expecting things to pick up more around the fall season
...reviews of anything and everything, from comics I read to what I had for lunch
...ponies and unicorns (please don't vote for this ;)

Once, Twice, Three Times a Spidey

If your ten bucks didn't contribute to the $150 millionish that Spider-Man 3 made last weekend, here's a quick hit on whether it's worth a couple of fivers. Absolutely... with reservations.

Overall, I liked it didn't love it. The web-slinging action is ineffincredible, and the villains are wonderfully realized. However, there are just too damn many of them. Sandman, Venom, New Goblin, flashbacks of the original Goblin, Mary Jane's dour presence... on and on and on. While the film manages to string all these threads together, it turns into a bit of an ugly sportscaster sweater by the time it's done.

There's so much going on that it's hard to care a great deal about any of it. Spidey as a movie doesn't really get going until he swings into action to save potential new girlfriend Gwen Stacy from falling out of a building, but then she's wasted as basically just an object lesson about loving Mary Jane. Onscreen origin stories are always tough, and this flick's shoehorns in three villain's worth. Plus there are the obligatory scenes of Aunt May providing Peter with soothing spider strength and J. Jonah Jameson getting irrationally angry.

Hm. That sounds like you should run screaming from the theater – sorry. There are things that work terrifically well. Sandman, while the film would benefit from him not being in it, looks great. Topher Grace is terrific as Eddie Brock/Venom. Bryce Dallas Howard's Gwen Stacy is miles ahead of Mary Jane. And again, the superhero action stuff is near perfect.

So go. Have a good time. Bring something to read for the first 40 minutes or so. Don't concern yourself too much with some coincidental plot elements and examples of deus ex machina and just watch Tobey swing around.

Who's Gonna Drive You Home?

Why, Nathan Fillion, of course. Sorry, Ric Ocasek fans. The fanboy favorite of Buffy, Firefly and Slither stars in Fox’s new series called Drive. It’s like The Amazing Race, except the contest is called only “The Race,” and if you get eliminated, you don’t get a conciliatory hug from an affable Aussie… your wife gets killed. Or something equally bad happens. Maybe.

Buried secrets abound in this show, and it’s a fairly safe guess they’ll all come to light once a group of ordinary strangers are forced to Cannonball Run across the country in search of $32 million and resolution of their personal dilemmas. So is it any good?

Based on the first handful of episodes, I’d say… sure. With reservations. Drive requires a pretty healthy suspension of disbelief. And I mean healthy like Bruce Willis in Unbreakable healthy – if you’re one of those people who say things like “that wouldn’t happen,” then watching this show shouldn’t happen. The Race itself is a little questionable, some of the pairings are suspect (particularly the estranged good/bad brother combo), and the show has a flight of fancy feeling overall.

But if you don’t get hung up on the details, it’s fun. Fillion’s always good, the accountant from The Untouchables is appealing as The Race’s DungeonMaster, and it’s a decent car chase every week. Plus, the producers have a good pedigree, with shows like Angel and Wonderfalls under their belt. Put your mind on cruise control and enjoy.

Thank Whoever or Whatever You Happen to Believe In You're Here

Pilot Opinion: Thank God You're Here
This new comedy show, sort of a spiritual successor to Whose Line is it Anyway, is an Australian import. Guest comedians are sent into a scene with no more preparation than than their character's costume – they've got to improv their way to comedy gold! It's funnyish, but unfortunately it strikes something more like comedy bronze. Maybe comedy brass.

The setup is sound, but the execution is... safe. As host, former In Living Color player David Alan Grier fawns all over the guests and tries to come up with synonyms for the door he sends the comedians thru. "Enter the Portal of Possibilities" and such. Kids in the Hall alum Dave Foley is ostensibly the judge, but it's like American Idol with all Paulas. "Ohhh, so wonderful – I can't decide which is funner!" Hm. I can.

Even the improv feels approved for network family hour. Comedy ought to be a little dangerous and plenty provocative, and the first two episodes of TGYH won't do anything to upset your V-Chip. The show also got less funny as it went on; past the initial gimmick it's a bit devoid of life.

It's pleasant enough watching; ok to have in the background, but not worth clogging space on your DVR.

The debate is over...

...it IS a Cheer-ocracy!

As faithful readers may or may not remember, I've been all over this issue since the beginning – do we, or do we not, live in a Cheer-ocracy. I am happy to report that further evidence has come to light, thanks to an often-prophetic force - teenybopper girl pop singers.

One can track their cheerful influence on top pop hits thru the decades. Take "Hey, Mickey, you're so fine." With a cheerleader-based video so fine it blew your mind. Or more recently, Gwen Stefani's declaration that she Ain't no Hollaback Girl. Listen to the lyrics: "bananas... b-a-n-a-n-a-s" and you'll wonder whether you are, in fact, listening to Nostradamus instead of No Doubt.

And despite the protests of a fellow blogger, another pop princess is in the process of confirming our Cheer-ocracy status - lil' Avril. Her new opus, Girlfriend, follows in the pom-pon-clad footsteps of the aforementioned cheeriffic hits.



Take a listen to the lyrics, dominated by "hey! hey!" and handclaps and I'm sure you'll agree - we live in a Cheer-ocracy.

Which may give Hilary an unforseen edge in '08.