Category Archives: Hollywood

Oscar Offal

Aesthetics, Film, Hollywood, Pop-Culture, The Zeitgeist

I haven’t seen any one of the films nominated, so I’ll withhold judgment. I’m curious about what appears outwardly to be a thriller, “No Country for Old Men.” Although it’s not impossible, knowing Hollywood’s devotion to the Goddess Gaia, that it’s a disguised message about global warming.

I’m certainly not likely to put myself through a “sensitive” flick that deals with teen turmoil. “Juno” was written by Hollywood’s latest IT girl. You know Diablo Cody is an authentic individualist, at least as defined by Hollywood hollow heads and public school pedagogues. Her “originality” is evident from her outré sense of dress, tattoos, and the knack for spluttering mind-numbing clichés. She also speaks in that Anna-Marie-Cox (Wonkette) inflection used in commercials directed at the cool crowd that reads the New York Times.

Marion Cotillard: a delightful French singer/actress who portrayed Edith Piaf in “La Vie En Rose.” Not my idea of a fun film, but the lady was delightful and was dressed ever-so elegantly. How long before she gets skankified? Make haste, Marion, go back to France.

All the hype about red gowns, notwithstanding, no one but Heidi Klum can carry off bright red. Klum is indeed a ravishing beauty, but she’s looking like a “Muselmann”—her total weight must equal the weight of her bones.

Cameron Diaz: The John Galliano frock did not finesse those flat, coarse features and thick leathery skin. All in all, the off-the-shoulder look requires perfect neck-jaw-bosom line. Although I don’t much care for Cruz, Penélope’s off-the-shoulder black number did it for me; she looked lovely. The dress didn’t plunge, but had been softened with a few fluffy plumes. Bedsides which she has the slight build to pull it off.

I am none the wiser about the silly, slushy movie “Enchanted” and its stars, but I’ll say this much about Amy Adams, who ever she is: The reddish locks, white flawless skin, and greed gown made for a beguiling blend.

Not well turned-out was Daniel Day-Lewis in gold pirate earring and a carefully disheveled coiffe. He is compared to Robert De Niro, but the latter is as manly as you get. A good actor too.

This here is a photo of a very great beauty. Here Julie Christie is again. This here is a photo of someone who is not a great beauty: The large, manly, expanses of forehead, the stupid smile, and the less-than-chiseled jaw. The eyes are more cow-like than captivating. It’s fine to find this common Hispanic look attractive, but it isn’t beautiful.

America’s idea of beauty now resembles its idea of good food; cheap and nasty.

The less said about Nicole Kidman the better. I liked her when her hair flowed in red ringlets, her blue eyes pierced, and her lips were thin. I tried to locate photos of Kidman before her make-over, but my PC was mysteriously assailed, and, subsequently crashed. Seriously, it’s impossible to find old images of the woman on the Internet. Oh, here are some from Malice.

Her acting too has become awfully affectatious. I watched Kidman in “Birth” (on TV; I’d never pay to see that bit of torture) with the fascination with which you’d watch maggots crawl in and out a CSI corpse. She was repulsive: she must have just had her mouth inflated, because she wouldn’t stop working it—the drooling thing assumed a life of its own. The object of her spittle was a ten year old boy—yeah, I know.

Lastly, Jon Stewart was rather weak.

RIP, Heath Ledger

Celebrity, Film, Gender, Hollywood, Psychiatry, The Zeitgeist

I don’t know much about this young actor; I’m not sure there is that much to know. To “mature” women like myself, he epitomized the new feminized male, low on testosterone and anemic to look at. (In “The Patriot,” I only had eyes for Mel.) Unmanly and hence unattractive. Young women nowadays, as I’ve observed, seem to like the type.

“Whenever I venture out, I encounter this not-so-new breed of man. Typically, he’ll have a few spoilt, cranky kids in tow, and a papoose strapped to a sunken chest. He’ll be laboring to make the outing to Trader Joe’s a ‘learning experience’ for the brats—one that every other store patron is forced to endure. This generic guy oozes psychological correctness and zero manliness. He’s not necessarily effeminate, mind you. Rather, he’s safely androgynous, and most certainly not guy-like in the traditional sense. As personalities go, he and the wife are indistinguishable.”

Poor Heath had been separated from his live-in lover. Perhaps she dismissed him because he failed to check the percentage of trans fats when out shopping. I’m just speculating.

As sad as the death of any harmless-enough young person is, I’m afraid I was not wowed by his performance in “Brokeback Mountain,” a film I was forced to view—well, let’s just say “circumstances combined to render me a captive audience.” I wrote:

“Heath Ledger as Ennis (an unfortunate name) Del Mar tried to emulate Marlon Brando’s potato-in-the-cheek mumbling in ‘The Godfather.’ A bad idea then—and now. The ‘love scene’ between the two men was akin to a bear fight. And as sensuous (contrast it with the artful and achingly sad scene in ‘Midnight Express’). The only sympathetic and authentic character was Alma Del Mar, the betrayed wife (portrayed by Michelle Williams), and her castaway kids.”

As for prescription drugs, which Heath took to put him to sleep and allay anxiety: A daily glass or two of red wine, and a jog will cure most neuroses. Even if take medication at a time in your life when they’re needed—they often act as a placebo—be sure to wean yourself off these kidney and liver killers. If you can’t sleep, read until you fall asleep. It has worked for me since the age of six, although, admittedly, I am bad sleeper, and go to bed at 2:30am.

RIP, Heath Ledger

Celebrity, Film, Gender, Hollywood, Psychiatry, The Zeitgeist

I don’t know much about this young actor; I’m not sure there is that much to know. To “mature” women like myself, he epitomized the new feminized male; low on testosterone and anemic to look at. (In “The Patriot,” I only had eyes for Mel.) Unmanly and hence unattractive. Young women nowadays, as I’ve observed, seem to like the type:

“Whenever I venture out, I encounter this not-so-new breed of man. Typically, he’ll have a few spoilt, cranky kids in tow, and a papoose strapped to a sunken chest. He’ll be laboring to make the outing to Trader Joe’s a ‘learning experience’ for the brats—one that every other store patron is forced to endure. This generic guy oozes psychological correctness and zero manliness. He’s not necessarily effeminate, mind you. Rather, he’s safely androgynous, and most certainly not guy-like in the traditional sense. As personalities go, he and the wife are indistinguishable.”

Poor Heath had been separated from his live-in lover. Perhaps she dismissed him because he failed to check the percentage of trans fats when out shopping. I’m just speculating.

As sad as the death of any harmless-enough young person is, I’m afraid I was not wowed by his performance in “Brokeback Mountain,” a film I was forced to view—well, let’s just say “circumstances combined to render me a captive audience.” I wrote:
“Heath Ledger as Ennis (an unfortunate name) Del Mar tried to emulate Marlon Brando’s potato-in-the-cheek mumbling in ‘The Godfather.’ A bad idea then—and now. The ‘love scene’ between the two men was akin to a bear fight. And as sensuous (contrast it with the artful and achingly sad scene in ‘Midnight Express’). The only sympathetic and authentic character was Alma Del Mar, the betrayed wife (portrayed by Michelle Williams), and her castaway kids.”

As for prescription drugs, which Ledger took to put him to sleep and allay anxiety: A daily glass or two of red wine, and a jog will cure most neuroses. The first is easy, the last, not so easy. Even if medication is taken at a time in one’s life when it’s needed (it often acts as a placebo), be sure to wean yourself off these kidney and liver killers. If you can’t sleep, read until you fall asleep. This has worked for me since the tender age of six, although, admittedly, I am bad sleeper and go to bed at 2:30 am.

Live Free or Die Hard: Geeks As Gods

Film, Hollywood, Objectivism, Technology, The Zeitgeist

I enjoy Bruce Willis, but even he can’t be expected to make a pathetic script and characters come alive in the latest “Die Hard” flick.

“Live Free or Die Hard” is studded with familiar Hollywood clichés:

The future of the US—and hence the free world—lies in the capable hands of unkept, dirty-looking, young 20-something computer geeks.

Older men like Willis may be muscular and heroic, but they are essentially dumb—devoid of the young’s brilliance, something they keep chanting. What’s more, everything about them is so yesterday—the music they like, the sort of parents they are; it’s all just crap, deserving of the hissing contempt of the young.

The shallow progeny has no idea dad’s daily drudgery includes many a heroic feat. Only when dad nearly dies rescuing the young bitch’s worthless behind does bitch decide to take on his last name.

This admittedly is the staple Hollywood pabulum. You’ve seen it in every single film and TV series: youngsters sneering at their parents, dishing out dirt, telling the parent—dad predominantly—how worthless he is. For his part, instead of cutting off the viper’s funds, dad grovels on his belly begging for some crumbs from the imperious offspring’s metaphoric table.

Yes, these are undying Hollywood themes, but that doesn’t mean they’re not as sick-making each time they’re encountered.

I watched the film with two technologically savvy “older” men (aged 42 and 52 respectively), who’re rather competent at problem solving. As much as they (and I) love action films, nothing about the special effects was believable.

Perhaps most ludicrous is Hollywood’s mythical, infantile conception of computers. Seat a PC savvy type—provided he’s young, of course—in front of a random monitor, and, evidently, there’s no end to the information he or she can squeeze from the thing, including to intercept a fighter aircraft flying above.

Don’t these people consult anyone who actually works in the business?

The usual useless idiots will try and extract heroic symbolism from this sorry script. Resorting to symbolism is subjective—to project one’s own infantile projections onto a cultural product is certainly an intellectual cop-out. Objective merits are what ought to count first and foremost in the assessment of all such products.

Consider a good review of “Live Free or Die Hard” as the litmus test for the stupid reviewer.