The Big Rotten Apple
Hello Milwaukee! After a long, tired and arduous journey to New York to work for an unnamed tabloid TV show for a few weeks, I’m finally back. I’d probably have been back a whole lot sooner had I had a decent and reliable Internet connection, a functional wrist and a regular couch to sleep on ... but I’m not complaining. Just kidding, I totally am. Screw New York and screw the show that paid me half of what they initially said, didn’t put me up in a hotel and made me fly out of New Jersey. (If you don’t know New York, basically the only reason to ever go to the Garden State is if you’re itching to double down on eleven and/or buy efficient Swedish furniture. Maybe Newark is okay if you, say, live on Staten Island and have a car ... but it’s a total pain in the ass if neither of those options apply. Personally, I prefer the cold, nasty touch of La Guardia, but that could just be because it only costs fifteen American dollars to get there from my old place in Brooklyn and not, say, seventy dollars from my friend’s place in Manhattan.)
But I did finally get to work in television, if only for three weeks, and that was wonderful. (Except when I sprained my right hand after slipping on wet pavement because it was sleeting every goddamn day I was there. Except sometimes during the 11 hours I worked, when the weather was suspiciously sunny. But later that night and the next morning? Sleet and lots of it. Oh, and in case you’re wondering, the hand still doesn’t work right and I’m still wearing a cast-like thing and I named my hand gimpy.) Essentially my job was to find and book people for minute-long segments on very random topics. So let’s say (for argument’s sake) that some of you watched this unnamed show every day at 3:00 in the afternoon on Channel 4. Well then some of you would have gotten to see the fruits of my labor in segments such as “Amnesiac Trucker,” “Very Young Children Who Weightlift,” “Women Who Box,” “Showdog Parents” and “Levis Sizing Machine.” Sadly, I did not do a single piece on the Olsen twins, Anna Nicole Smith or even J. Lo. But I did spend a whole morning trying to find out what kind of pajama bottoms Michael Jackson wore to court one day. (Still unknown!) And I got to meet the newest Bachelor—that guy who is Jerry O’Connell’s brother. I told him that I liked his work on the last season of “Sliders,” and he said that made his fan base grow to two —me and his mom. Oh that clever Bachelor! No wonder those women want to marry him! (I also saw Milwaukee native Gene Wilder in the office, but was so startled by his lack of a Willy Wonkaesque crushed velvet suit, that I sat in silence.) Unfortunately, the job didn’t last very long (freelance, sigh) and didn’t pay very well (media, sigh) and a decent, dog-friendly, one-bedroom apartment is at least $1,400 a month (New York, gag) ... so I’m still calling Milwaukee home, at least for now. But if any of you wonderful readers know of any decent gigs in Los Angeles, I’m game—at least it doesn’t sleet there.
(From April 27, 2005)
The Academy Awards
I love the Academy Awards like other people love the Super Bowl. Every year there are people I cheer for, people I boo at and proverbial power plays that I get so upset over, they keep me up at night.
This year was no different.
Thanks to Chris Rock, this year's Oscar show was apparently the highest-rated since 2000. Unfortunately, Rock was almost as unfunny as Billy Crystal. But you can't really blame him. The dude wants to get asked back, he even said so at the end of the show. And I guarantee that he got at least seven hours of lecture on FCC regulations, swearing and offending the audience at hand. That being said, he still sucked.
And Scorsese was robbed. Again. Obviously the Aviator wasn't his best work, but it was damn pretty and well-acted and well-written and well-shot. And since I've been personally offended that Ms. Cate Blanchett was passed over in 1999 for her amazing role in Elizabeth, I'm glad she at least got recognized for her role as Kate Hepburn. But at the same time, I'm still angry Paltrow has a golden statue for showing her tits.
And speaking of no-talent anorexics, how and why is Hillary Skank winning anything - especially over Annette Bening? I was irate in 2000 when Skank won for a really great script that she had nothing to do with. Oh wait, she cut off her hair and lived as a boy for a week. Big. Fucking. Deal. And at the time people had the audacity to compare this "role research" to Robert De Niro's weight gain for Raging Bull. No way. Hair grows back, De Niro's whole body changed. So she took and threw some punches; that also is not a reason to hand Skank an award. And if it is, she should have been recognized for 1996's Lifetime movie Terror in the House, when she played an abusive, insane teenager. Actually, her best work has been in crappy made-for-TV movies. Am I the only one who remembers her gut-wrenching performance in Dying to Belong? Or maybe as Steve Sander's single mother girlfriend in the 1997-1998 season of "90210"? Meanwhile, Bening breathes life into and fleshes out roles that would otherwise be two-dimensional. But does she get noticed?
Apparently not.
(Of course, Catalina Sandino Moreno really should have won for her portrayal of a Columbian drug mule for Maria Full of Grace, but I guess that's why the Independent Spirit Awards exist.)
Morgan Freeman finally won, which is fantastic. Jamie Foxx was good too, but it's funny (in that not ha ha way) that Foxx got Best Actor after only one or two serious roles and Freeman had to wait a lifetime to get Best Supporting Actor. But maybe the Academy is taking into account Foxx's role in Booty Call, one of the most underrated movies of all time. (Because you know Halle Berry never would have won if it wasn't for B.A.P.S. I have to give that girl credit, though, for actually showing up at the Razzies the night before the Oscars and accepting her Worst Actress award for Catwoman.)
Of course, my highlight of the evening was seeing Charlie Kaufman actually win Best Original Screenplay for Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind. And he was just as cute and nebbish in accepting his accolade as I expected.
And now for the fun part ...
Best dressed: Charlize Theron.
Worst dressed: Skank.
Worst teeth: Johnny Depp. I don't know if those were fake or uncapped or he just ate a chocolate bar, but anyone who saw him talking up close noticed they were brown and creepy. Almost Michael Stipe bad.
(From April 6, 2005)
Save Arrested Development
I’ve lost a lot of shows over the years: “Angel,” “Buffy,” “Undeclared,” “Popular,” “Futurama,” “The Family Guy,” “Andy Richter Controls The Universe,” “Freaks and Geeks.” And every time one gets cancelled, a little piece of me dies inside. Well, that’s not exactly true, but I get pretty upset. I don’t like to lose friends, even if they’re only my TV ones. And you better believe I was pissed after I found out that “Arrested Development” is near the chopping block.
Sure, right now they’re just Internet rumors, but that’s how the “Angel” pre-cancellation hoopla started last year—and right after their 100th episode. Tasteful. And then the WB replaced it with crap like “Blue Collar Comedy.” And I’m still really angry, especially because Joss promised some kind of movie and there is no movie and there is no Angel and now I don’t know what to do on Thursday nights after “The O.C.” (But Angel’s fifth season just came out on DVD and if I mention it here, it’s a tax write-off. Ha ha ha.)
And as generous as Fox has been to some shows that should have been cancelled years ago (ahem, “That 70s Show”), they’ve killed others like “Undeclared” after only one glorious, genius season. In fact, “Arrested” came mighty close to the axe last year, but was saved thanks to the many connections of one Mr. Ron Howard. And though I thought it would be safe after it won the Emmy, I remembered that “The Ben Stiller Show” won its Emmy after it was cancelled (also available on DVD). And quality Fox programming will never be safe as long as “American Idol” pulls in obscene ratings each week.
Plus “Arrested Development” is smart. Much smarter than anything else on regular TV and I’m sure that scares a lot of people. And it’s also probably why the ratings are so low, despite the fact that it’s one of the funniest, darkest shows ever made. And it has David Cross. And I watch everything David Cross does. In fact, if I was near his house, I might be watching him through binoculars right now—eating, drinking, sleeping, taking his dog out for a walk ...
But the good news is that it’s not too late. Start watching the show. (It’s on Sunday nights after “The Simpsons” at 7:30 p.m. on Channel 6.) As Midwesterners, you guys have a lot more ratings pull than you’d think. Buy the DVD of the first season. Seriously. “The Family Guy” was resurrected after its insane DVD sales and enormous late-night ratings on the Cartoon Network.
Call and e-mail the network, or better yet, call and e-mail the president of the network, Gail Berman. Her e-mail is gail.berman@fox.com and her address is:
Gail Berman
Fox Broadcasting Entertainment President
Fox Headquarters
10201 West Pico Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA 90035
and
Gail Berman, President
Fox Broadcasting Company
P.O. Box 900
Beverly Hills, CA 90213
Oh, and the Fox viewer comment hotline is 1-800-369-6848. There are a ton of petitions going on online too, but I don’t necessarily trust them to get the job done. This has to be saved by thousands of little voices—especially because for each letter they get, they count it as so many more concerned viewers than one. I’m not really sure how many, but I know only a handful of Christians are responsible for getting Fox fined by the FCC for their Vegas stunts on “Married By America” last year. Plus when you write, Fox writes you back and then you can say that you got your very own form letter. Or you can frame the form letter and hang it on your desk at work and stare at it each time you think you don’t matter to the rest of the world because you’re just some jackass working in a cubicle.
Plus I think it’s high time this city rallied around a decent cause like saving a TV show instead of boring stuff like “stopping the violence” (yeah, good luck with that) or “improving the schools” (ha!) or various other things that don’t affect me because I live in the suburbs and don’t want kids.
And if I just made you really mad and if you’re about to send an angry letter to the Shepherd about me or possibly egg my house, channel that anger into a letter to Fox. Because I’m being facetious. I do want the schools to get better and I do want the violence to end, but that’s going to take a lot more energy than a simple campaign to save a TV show. And after we save “Arrested,” maybe we’ll learn that we can do anything! And the schools WILL get better and the violence WILL end. Everyone will cast aside their differences for a half-hour each Sunday. And then brother can hold hands with brother and sing … even if the first brother slept with the second brother’s girl. Because both dudes can now focus their rage upon something way more constructive ... like, say, the network that brings us “World’s Deadliest Police Chases 4.”
(From February 24, 2005)
Lizz Meets Wendell
When Wendell from "The Bachelorette" came to town on Valentine's Day, I had a few questions for him. Oddly, he answered ...
1. Would you have really married Jen?
There is no possible way I would have asked Jen to marry me at the end of six weeks. It just does not make sense to rush an engagement and set yourself up for failure. Especially in front of 20 million people. However, that's not to say it couldn't work for somebody else–just not me!
2. Are you sad that you never got your People magazine cover?
The exposure from the show is a lot of fun but I think I will survive not making the cover of People. My local newspaper suits me just fine!
3. Is Jen as dumb as she seems on TV?
DIDN'T ANSWER!!!
4. Do you think you were accurately portrayed in "The Bachelorette"? Was your family?
I believe that my personality was portrayed fairly well on the show but at the same time I hope I have much more depth to me than just a couple of quotes here and there in regard to a particular individual. They captured my energy, just not all of it. My family is a fun, laid-back group of people who enjoy having a great time. I think they did an awesome job on the show and if I did not know them I would want them as my in-laws!
5. Have they asked you to be the next Bachelor? Do you know who the next Bachelor is?
I would never be the next Bachelor because I am genuinely looking to meet someone sooner rather than later, but I do know who the next Bachelor is. I will keep that a secret, though.
6. Why did you look for love on national TV?
I did not apply for the show nor was I convinced I would find love on national TV. I thought it would be an experience I would always remember. I have always wanted to live an interesting life and I was certain this experience would fall under that category, which it did. As a bonus I walked [out] with some new friends and great stories.
7. Why were you at the Cans in Milwaukee and not Chicago?
I rotate between the Cans in Chicago and Milwaukee. It is just as much fun for me to talk to everyone as I hope I make it for everyone who comes to watch the show!
8. Have you tried to be on other reality dating shows?
No other reality shows, nor will there ever be.
9. Do you have any advice for any future Wendells out there?
Keep your conversations short, follow every beer with a water and don't pass out the first night.
10. Was Fabrice really gay or just French?
Fabrice is as French as they come. He is not gay, although I do think he had a crush on Jerry.
11. Do you think you're a celebrity? Do other people?
I am absolutely not a celebrity, but the fact of the matter is that the reality TV genre is not going anywhere fast ... so for the next four months people will know my name until the next guy accepts a rose.
12. Are you having an easier/more difficult time meeting women now that you've been on the show?
I would be lying if I said it was not significantly easier to meet women, but if you don't have anything to say after the introduction, it won't make a difference anyhow. But the head start is nice.
Wendell was quite impressive as a pseudo television personality–very affable, rather intelligent, fun to talk to and significantly cuter in person than on TV. Though he wouldn't tell us who won the show or how dumb Jen really is, he did provide a remarkable insight into the show's process. I've met many self-important TV douche bags in my day and I'm happy to report that Wendell is not one of them.
(From February 17th, 2005)
I Could Totally Be The Bachelorette
Sometimes as I write this column, usually alone in the dark and in my pajamas, it baffles me as to how certain things have passed me by. I never made it to "Star Search" (no talent, didn't try out), I was never on "The Real World" (not enough piercings, didn't try out) and I have yet to be "Elimidated" (not skanky enough, no obnoxious accent, didn't try out).Often I wonder why "The Daily Show" or Conan O'Brien have yet to call me up and ask me to write jokes for them. Word of my comic genius must have spread to New York by now and it's just a matter of time before I get to move back to Brooklyn and start writing funny for the TV and not just about the TV.I'd also make a really good network president, hopefully of something fun like the WB or VH1.Honestly, I just want to give something back to the medium that has brought me so very, very much.
Which leads me to this ... I could totally be the Bachelorette. In fact, I SHOULD totally be the Bachelorette. No one on this show is interesting or smart or even fun to watch.And if they are, they get eliminated right away.Plus, I like a lot of attention and I'm a natural blonde and I do enjoy casually drinking champagne when I meet strangers.I clean up real nice and let's face it, that show desperately needs a drunken intellectual feminist.(I'm not saying I'd be drunk all the time, but come on.Free [hopefully decent] champagne?Awesome.It would totally help me get over that nasty stage-fright.)
I can't just be on "The Bachelor," because I'll get eliminated in the first round. They'll ask me something about myself and I'll probably mention a book or my dog or something I saw on "The O.C." They'll realize I was never in a sorority, I never majored in marketing and probably don't want to get married to a guy I have to fight over tooth and nail to even get to ... only to learn he has the personality of a coffee table. And a marriage-minded coffee table at that!
No, I want the men to be fighting over me.And I will eliminate them in ways ABC cannot even fathom ...
First question: Who voted for Bush? (That'll probably get me down to the final four already in the most bloody of all rose ceremonies to date.)
Next question: Which one of you fuckers has a problem with strong women?(Hopefully they'll be smart enough to know how to answer this one.)
And my date questions will be fun: What was the last book you read? Da Vinci Code? Gone! You're a salesman? Gross! You tan, don't you? Goodbye. You want kids? No, thank you.
And I wouldn't forget the big question: Don't you find it odd that you're herded around like cattle just for the chance to objectify and pedestalize me on national television? And do you really expect me to be flattered by this scenario instead of thoroughly creeped out?
Yes, America needs me as the next Bachelorette so that its love affair with the non-threatening, non-opinionated, obnoxiously vanilla girl next door can end, and I can usher in the next generation ofwomen who are surly, funny and smart.
I won't care that the weird French guy is gay ... as long as he's interesting.I won't care that that one guy fell down because he was so nervous and drunk on the first episode. (I would care that he is a total douchebag frat boy and I wouldn't have picked him anyway ... but not for fainting.)
So Milwaukee, get to it.Write to ABC and make me a star.
What to Watch: "The O.C." will have its first girl-on-girl kiss this week. And you know you want to see it, you bunch of voyeuristic pervs. (FOX on Thursday night at 8 p.m.)
What to Avoid: Let's say Dr. Phil because he kind of scares me ... and he has that icky sex-offender mustache.
(From February 10th, 2005)
Lizz Goes Out To The Movies
I know my column is supposed to be about television... but lately, when I go to the movies, I feel like I am still in my living room, watching TV and being inundated with advertising.
Now I love commercials. The other day I went to a screening of the funniest British commercials of the past year or two (no, it wasn't in Milwaukee, so don't even bother looking). In fact I think of commercials as a clever post-modern art form that grasps the immediate mentality of American culture more so than any other medium. A barometer, if you will, of political and cultural sentiment that could later be studied and analyzed for both good and evil. I'm even looking forward to Sunday's Super Bowl specifilly for the commercials. (As well as an excuse to eat junk food and get drunk early in the afternoon.)
However, I accept these ads—hell, embrace them—because I'm not paying a red cent to watch TV. But when I go to see a movie and shell out $8-10 for a ticket, plus $40 dollars for a diet Coke and $700 for a small popcorn, it seems obnoxious and unreasonable to make me sit through a series of commercials before I even get to watch the previews. I remember complaining about this YEARS AGO when there were only one or two ads before a movie. Yesterday I counted four... and none of them were even film-related! (Sure Fandango and Moviefone spots are irritating, but at least those have something to do with what I spent $748 to see.) But watching ads for Mitsubishi or Aquafina or Coke is just uncalled for. And it takes up like 20 minutes of time that could be better spent fighting traffic to get to the theater or napping or intoxicating oneself before the show or at least taking the time to find a clean pair of pants. Or, hell, watching more previews. I love trailers and I'd gladly sit through eight consecutive promos for some bad Julia Roberts romantic comedy or crappy Ben Stiller romantic comedy than another ad for a car company or water or goddamn soda. It's really only a matter of time before they start showing ads for Valtrex or Xanax or Zoloft too -– "Are you in the theater alone because you can't deal with the harsh realities of the outside world? Or maybe because you're super itchy down there and need to scratch yourself in the dark? Take this pill..."
Now I understand that movies cost more and more to make each year and then everyone else has to up prices of this and that to recoup losses beuse Tom Cruise gets over $20 million a picture and George Lucas has to spend more money on computer graphics than script writers or extras—which, ironically would probably cost less and conversely make those horrible Star Wars prequels less painful to watch. But why do I have to be the one who suffers? I don't see movies with Tom Cruise or robots or Will Smith or Julia Roberts or even The Rock. Why do my pretentious art films that cost next to nothing to make (comparatively) have to have the same amount of crap added to the beginning as those which cost billions and billions to make (and are essentially extended vehicles for product placement anyway)? Can't theaters force the unwashed masses who want to suffer through another crappy Renee Zellweger movie to sit through ten ads so that I only get one? (Or better yet, none?) At the very least, n't they show the actual time of the movie starting next to the listed time? Or possibly offer a discount ticket for those who are willing to sit through the ads vs. those of us who will not. (I'm just thinking out loud. Please, please, please Mr. Marcus, Mr. AMC, Mr. Capitol Cinemas 12 ... do not raise ticket prices again.)
I'm not saying my time is that precious. In fact, it's probably less important than yours. But I am poor and thus have to spend my dollars wisely. And I really do not enjoy getting roped into watching commercials against my will. So, my fair public, I suggest you revolt in my name and let me know when I can go back to cinema again. Meanwhile, I'm going to stay at home in my pajamas and reacquaint myself with my old friend Netflix. (God bless that DVD fast-forward button!!)
(From February 3rd, 2005)
The Vacation Episode
Dear Milwaukee,
Greetings from sunny California! Yes, it is sunny ... and warm. I heard you got 14 inches of snow over the weekend. That's too bad ... I spent my Saturday and Sunday looking out over the ocean while lying out next to a pool. Ha ha ha ha ha. (Of course, by the time you read this I'll be back in the tundra cursing that return part of the roundtrip plane ticket ... and my jackass relatives who had to settle in a cold climate.)
But since I'm in L.A., I thought I'd try to do some star watching for you. In fact, yesterday, my r was stuck behind a Hollywood VIP Tour bus as my best friend Jenna and I drove around the hills. (Unfortunately there seemed to be no VIPs on the tour, itself. I mean come on, they could at least get Dave Coulier or Jack8Ee or the like to sit on the bus with the group and tell stories about being on the C-list in the '80s.) So naturally, Jenna and I followed this bus for as long as we could and made up our own tour that consisted of stopping at all the same places and pretending to point out all the Hollywood houses and corners where famous actors have died and/or had crazy sex scandals. It was pretty awesome, but maybe you had to be there. We kind of were hoping A.J. Benza would appear and narrate for us, but apparently surly gossip columnists don't just show up on command–or even if you attach a bottle of whiskey and a pack of smokes to a string and hide behind a tree on Sunset, waiting for them to take the bait.
But so far I have seen Harold of Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle and the mother of all TV douche bags ... Carson Daly. And he was power-walking. And I laughed and laughed and laughed a little more. Sadly, I've yet to see Colin Farrell or even drunkenly make out with him in some dirty bar–which I've just assumed is as popular of a tourist activity as going to the Chinese Theater or posing next to the Hollywood sign.
I have yet to see any movies or shows being filmed, but I did see a bunch of vans and trailers lined up outside Griffith Park one day with one handwritten sign that said "Rockers Enter Here and another that said "Groupies Enter Here. I wanted to stop and, uh, "pretend to be a groupie but I had a feeling that they would have seen through my diaboli l plan to finally get discovered (and my lack of a SAG card).
Tomorrow I make the holy pilgrimage to Newport Beach to visit all things "O.C." (And also be use I have already driven past the "Angel hotel a couple of times to take photos.) I might even wear my "I heart Seth Cohen T-shirt so that all the Newpsies know my level of dedi tion to their community. (Of course, the word on the street is that "The O.C." is actually filmed in Manhattan Beach ... not Newport. Oh well, at least it's not Chino. Eww.)
What to Watch: If you're already sick of the Super Bowl, consider watching Animal Planet's "Puppy Bowl" on Feb. 6. It's supposed to show all day but I still plan on taping it so I n watch the puppies frolic over and over and over again. Be use you really can't find anything cuter than a room full of baby dogs.
And if you didn't know already ... my hunky, future make-out dude, Colin Farrell, will be guest-starring on "Scrubs" over the next few weeks. Plus, the show is really funny and well-written and better than any other sitcom on TV right now so you should watch it and tape it and watch it again.
What to Avoid: "The Bachelorette" is pretty God-awful. I mean have you really listened to what this woman has to say? I have shoes with more personality ... I'd like to personally thank Jennifer Schefft for simultaneously sending the women's movement back 35 years, and bringing American mediocrity forward by at least ten.
(From January 27, 2005)
