Angry Loner's Viral Sickness

Every Sunday from now on, I'll be posting what I deem to be the "sickest" viral video of the week. I envision this feature as sort of a condensed, 21st Century America's Home Videos, without the studio audience. It was a tough choice this week and there were many strong contenders, from a French house cat fending off a garbage-eating bear to break-dancing, Korean stormtroopers.

The grand-prize, however, goes to Funny or Die for their hilarious send-up (reminiscent of HBO's seminal, cult-comedy gem Mr. Show) of the Supreme Court's recent decision to allow unlimited, corporate, campaign contributions:

Don't Sell Out, America! from Jordan Peele

The "Buy Mennen®!" tag at the end really sealed the deal for me.

Farewell, Poor Echo, We Hardly Knew Thee...

Last night, at 9:58pm, Joss Whedon's Dollhouse quietly passed into the annals of television history. The cause of death was an acute lack of interest in the show and its characters, even among the Whedon faithful (myself included). And I doubt many will mourn its loss.

In football there's a concept known as a "play that took too long to develop;" a good idea in theory that didn't work so well when applied in practice. I believe this term accurately describes Dollhouse, as well.

When the show was first announced, I was understandably excited and enthusiastic. I've been a fan of Eliza Dushku since her break-out role as Faith on Whedon's Buffy: The Vampire Slayer. And Wrong Turn has become one of my favorite B-horror movies. So, when I heard she was teaming up with Joss again, it sounded like a can't miss prospect.

However, the first season was a disorienting mash-up of self-contained, one-off, Bionic Woman retreads and convoluted conspiracy drama that made the X-Files seem lucid. After briefly giving it another chance, I gave up on the show a few episodes into season two because I had absolutely no idea what any of the characters' motivations were.

When I tuned in a few months later, after its imminent cancellation was common knowledge, I was taken aback at how intense the show had gotten. The plot actually made sense and the narrative was finally building toward something. And therein lies the problem. By the time Dollhouse finally hit its stride, the network had already pulled the plug.

I've heard a lot of complaints that Fox tampered with the show to the point of ruining it. But that shouldn't surprise anyone, least of all Joss. Not after they famously aired the episodes of his last series, Firefly, out of order.

This is, after all, the same network that canceled Family Guy only to resurrect it three years later as one of its flagship franchises. Giving up on modern cult-classics like Freaks & Geeks, Undeclared, Arrested Development and the aforementioned Firefly before they found their respective audiences probably wasn't the smartest move either, in my opinion.

While I'm a huge fan of his work, I have to call Whedon out on the questionable decision to enter into another deal with Fox after the Firefly fiasco. There's something to be said here for the old axiom, "fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me."

At it's best, Dollhouse was riveting. At it's worst, it was mediocre. That's better than most shows ever get. Unfortunately, in the 21st century, you can't afford to take very much time getting to the fireworks factory.

Angry Loner's Netflix® Haiku of the Week

Every Wednesday, I recommend a movie that I missed in the theater but ended up being worth a spot in my Netflix® queue.

Since I wholeheartedly agree with Shakespeare's axiom that brevity is the soul of wit, all of my reviews are submitted in haiku form. Without further adieu, here's today's pick:


District 9 (Sci-Fi/Action, 2009)

Like Pan's Labyrinth
Breathtaking special effects
But what a downer



NOTE: While I receive no compensation for endorsing Netflix®, I believe they provide an excellent service at a reasonable price. And I appreciate that. Especially in this economy...

"A Man Like Putin"

This is the hottest track in Moscow right now. I like what it implies about the average Russian male:



The hard techno beat only sweetens the deal!

Diggin' In The Crates

"Diggin' in the Crates" is a new feature on this site that I'm proud to announce. Every so often, I'll be profiling an album from my moderately extensive record collection. Today's pick is:

London Calling by The Clash (1979)

London Calling isn't so much an album as it is a manifesto announcing the arrival of a bold, new form of rock music rooted in, but transcending, the punk aesthetic.

The first time I heard Clash frontman Joe Strummer defiantly declare that "phony Beatlemania" had "bitten the dust" on the record's opening, title track, I knew I was listening to history being made.

Strummer's songwriting on the album runs the gamut from inspired anthems of working-class solidarity ("The Guns of Brixton," "I'm Not Down") and seedy tales of drug abuse ("Hateful," "Koka Kola") to thoughtful ballads like "The Card Cheat" and "Spanish Bombs," a romantic reflection on the partisans' quixotic struggle against Franco's fascists during the Spanish Civil War. And, to this day, I still find myself humming "Lost in the Supermarket" whenever I'm wandering the aisles in Ralph's or Vons.

You don't see that kind of range very often any more, especially in popular music. Genres are too narrowly defined these days. And most contemporary, "indie" or "art" rock sounds like it's been castrated. That's the problem I have with bands like Death Cab for Cutie, Decemberists or Arcade Fire. There's no energy. If they're not going to shred any sick guitar solos, they should at least compose coherent, meaningful lyrics about experiences I can relate to.

None of those bands come even close to matching The Clash's energy, intensity or conviction. Strummer was unapoligetically passionate about his music and that fervor resonates with me, even through the record. Instead of whining about his ex-girlfriend or waxing philosophical, he's winning over hearts and minds.

Listening to London Calling takes me back to a time when rock music still had balls. Once it was dangerous. Once it had the potential to change the world. Now it just puts me to sleep.

Angry Loner's Netflix® Haiku of the Week

I'm proud to announce a new feature that will appear weekly on this site. Every Wednesday, I'll be recommending a movie that I missed in the theater but ended up being worth a spot in my Netflix® queue.

Since I wholeheartedly agree with Shakespeare's observation that brevity is the soul of wit, I'll be submitting my recommendations in Haiku form. Without further adieu, here's today's pick:

The Goods: Live Hard, Sell Hard (Comedy, 2009)

Jeremy Piven
Leads a strong ensemble cast
Much laughter ensues


NOTE: While I receive no compensation for endorsing Netflix®, I believe they provide an excellent service at a reasonable price. And I appreciate that. Especially in this economy...

Zucker Punch

As an entertainment blogger, I would be remiss not to comment on the civil war currently winding down over at NBC. I've been waiting for the dust to settle before weighing in on this debacle, which threatens to disrupt, if not destroy, the network's late night line-up. At this point, I've read, heard and seen enough to reach the following conclusion: Conan got a raw deal.

Last year, when the network first announced its plans to broadcast The Jay Leno Show five nights a week at 10 p.m., I was skeptical to say the least. At the outset, many pundits hailed NBC Universal CEO Jeff Zucker's decision to devote the network's entire 10 o'clock hour to a glorified talk show as a bold attempt to remake the face of network television. To me, however, it always seemed like an epic blunder. And while the show's low production value did cut overhead costs (compared to the scripted dramas traditionally aired during that time slot) its ratings were abysmal, night after night, week in, week out.

The weak lead-in Leno's show provided resulted in lower ratings for the 11 p.m. newscasts of NBC affiliates across the nation, who threatened to revolt if the network didn't make a change. Zucker's grand experiment turned out to be an unmitigated disaster.

Since I vehemently opposed Zucker's move from day one, I'm enjoying some quality schadenfreude at his expense now that he's taken the plunge from industry wonder boy to corporate pariah. My smug sense of self-satisfaction is dampened, however, by the revelation that Conan O'Brien will no longer host the Tonight Show.

I've admired Conan's work since his days as a writer/producer during the early years of The Simpsons. Over the years, I've eagerly anticipated the day when he'd step up to take the Tonight Show reigns from Leno, who I never found particularly funny. O'Brien did things the right way, paying his dues and focusing on his Late Night program while patiently waiting in the wings for Leno to relinquish the spotlight. Then, after finally earning the opportunity to sit behind the Tonight Show desk, NBC unceremoniously pulled the plug on him after less than eight months. That's a bush-league move by Zucker & Co.

The network's original solution called for Leno to return to the Tonight Show at 11:35 p.m. and Conan to be bumped to 12:05 a.m with Jimmy Fallon bringing up the rear at 1:05. However, due to his reverence for the Tonight Show as an institution, O'Brien took a principled stand by refusing to accept that proposal. As he put it in his prepared statement regarding the issue, "the Tonight Show at 12:05 simply isn't the Tonight Show."

One could argue, as Zucker recently did, that Conan brought this upon himself by underperforming in the ratings department. While that seems like a reasonable argument, it fails to account for the dreadfully weak lead-in Conan's Tonight Show received from the affiliates' local newscasts which, in turn, suffered from Leno's dismal ratings during the 10 o'clock hour.

And, as Jay himself admitted in an interview with Tavis Smiley last August, "Whoever has the job goes through this...It's all part of the growing pains. [Ratings go] down for a while and then [they come] back up again. And I don't think it's fair to judge Conan on what's happened....I got beat up for four or five months." Leno should try explaining that to Zucker.

As far as I can tell, the big winner in all of this is CBS's David Letterman, who's been cleaning up in the ratings since the disaster at NBC began unfolding early last week. In my opinion, Letterman has always been the undisputed King of Late Night Comedy, regardless of what the Nielsen numbers say. Considering NBC spurned him for Leno back in 1993, the network's current calamity must provide a certain degree of satisfaction for Letterman, in addition to the aforementioned ratings bump.

Several years from now, when Conan hosts a thriving late night show on Fox that dominates the coveted 18-49 year old demographic, I suspect NBC will regret its decision to let him go. Meanwhile, after Leno finally retires, the network will be be faced with an awkward decision about whether to promote current Late Night host Jimmy Fallon to the Tonight Show desk or hire outside the company, once an unthinkable option. If these predictions hold true, it shouldn't surprise anyone. After all, long-term planning for his network's future clearly isn't Zucker's forte.

Parks and Rza?

As a huge fan of NBC's brilliant Thursday night comedy Parks & Recreation as well as the rap group The Wu-Tang Clan, this clip pretty much blew my mind:

Parks and Recreation is the Wu-Tang of Comedy - watch more funny videos

Much respect to ?uestlove and the people over at Funny or Die for producing this as well as my friend DP for putting me on to it.
New episode of Parks & Rec airs tonight @ 8:30, don't forget to tune in or set your DVRs!

Yellow Fever

Sunday night Fox paid tribute to its biggest, and most unlikely, success story. To celebrate The Simpsons' 20th anniversary, the network commissioned documentary filmmaker Morgan Spurlock (Supersize Me, 30 Days) to chronicle the show's far-reaching influence around the globe and proliferation into all aspects of popular culture here at home. The result was both insightful and entertaining.

When it debuted in 1989 as a spin-off from Fox's The Tracey Ullman Show, few expected The Simpsons to last more than 13 episodes let alone two decades. However, the animated comedy reflected an upheaval in our culture, offering an irreverent look at the changing dynamic of the traditional American household. The fact that its' characters were four-fingered and yellow just made it easier, sometimes even cathartic, to laugh at them and their antics.

As a 9 year-old kid from a dysfunctional, lower-middle class family, I identified with the Simpsons' plight from episode one. Growing up, my personality was basically half-Bart and half-Lisa, the former being a trouble-making prankster and the latter a frustrated intellectual. Over the years, my connection to the show only grew stronger.

For instance, when his family couldn't afford the expensive video game that all of his classmates had, Bart was faced with the temptation to shoplift it. I understood that dilemma because I'd lived it. Or when Lisa faced widespread derision for becoming a vegetarian and later a Buddhist (both changes I've undergone). Or when Homer broke his jaw and later tore the Anterior Cruciate Ligament in his knee (both injuries I've sustained). All of these shared experiences taught me an important lesson: it's much easier (and healthier) to laugh at one's misfortunes than to cry or complain about them.

The Simpsons has given me something to look forward to every week for the last 20 years. I love the show because it's become an integral part of who I am. It's in my DNA, for better or worse. At this point, I have to face the fact that the most successful, long-term relationship of my entire life is with a TV show. And I'm shockingly okay with that.

Avatar: Just FernGully With a Bigger Budget

In all of the hype surrounding James Cameron's new blockbuster, Avatar, the film's plot has largely escaped scrutiny. I've read review after review raving about the Avatar's groundbreaking, breathtaking, 3D, digital effects. Yet, in many of these assessments serious criticism of the story itself was conspicuously absent.

As someone who prefers complex narratives with well-developed characters to watching a director show off his expensive new toys for nearly three hours, I find this oversight disturbing. Perhaps, we've been inundated with so many vapid, special effects films (Transformers, G.I. Joe and the new installments of the Star Wars franchise come to mind) that we don't even expect a movie to have a coherent plot anymore.

Earlier this week, I cited NY Times columnist David Brooks in a post on my political blog, Armchair Firebrand. Today, Brooks became the first critic I've read to focus his review of Avatar exclusively on its asinine plot. Comparing it with similar films such as Dances With Wolves, Pocahontas and The Last Samurai, Brooks identifies Avatar as the latest example of an insipid cultural trend he calls the "White Messiah" formula,

"It rests on the stereotype that white people are rationalist and technocratic while colonial victims are spiritual and athletic. It rests on the assumption that nonwhites need the White Messiah to lead their crusades. It rests on the assumption that illiteracy is the path to grace."

Brooks rightly identifies this dynamic as offensive to both whites and their "colonial victims." The former is demonized while the latter is caricatured, patronized and condescended to. However, the review's coup de grace comes when Brooks points out that, despite all of its preachy, anti-corporate rhetoric, Avatar boasts a lucrative, promotional tie-in with McDonald's, perhaps the most corporate of sponsors.

So, to George Lucas, James Cameron and Steven Spielberg (et al.), stop choosing style over substance! Go back to your roots and rediscover what got you here. After all, digital effects and massive budgets are no match for a good script at your side, kid.

The Sopranos on Wheels

I've been a fan of veteran character actor Ron Perlman ever since City of Lost Children back in '95. So, it's especially satisfying for me to see him leading the superb ensemble cast of FX's biker-themed drama, Sons of Anarchy. I had my doubts about the show early on, expecting it to fall victim to the genre's usual Easy Rider cliches. As it turns out, I seriously underestimated series creator Kurt Sutter.

With Sons of Anarchy, Sutter has developed a complex, testosterone-fueled, character-driven, thrill-ride that's riddled with almost as many Shakespearean allusions as bullets. Throughout the first and second seasons, Sutter deftly manages to elevate the genre's "booze, bikes, brawls and bitches" formula to new heights without making the material seem stilted or contrived. That is certainly no easy task. In fact, the only other series I can think of that's accomplished this feat so successfully is HBO's The Sopranos.

In some ways, I even prefer Sons of Anarchy to its Mafia-saga precursor. I always found The Sopranos' psychoanalytic aspect to be a bit pretentious. And while the show had its share of interesting characters, they were all little more than caricatures of themselves. With SOA, I feel more invested in the narrative. The audience is thrown into the action rather than passively observing it through the eyes of the protagonist's psychiatrist, who constantly analyzes and interprets his actions for us.

Regardless of their respective pros and cons, the bottom line is that both of these shows are great. And SOA will be lucky to age as gracefully as its forebearer. But when the time comes, let's hope Sutter comes up with a more satisfying conclusion to Sons of Anarchy than Sopranos' creator David Chase did for his series.