1) LEGALLY BLONDE: THE MUSICAL is the best musical ever, including the works of Stephen Sondheim, Leonard Bernstein, Gilbert and Sullivan and Puccini.
2) Elle Woods is the greatest role ever devised for the stage. It makes Lady Macbeth look like a non-speaking spot in a regional tampon commercial.
3) Seriously, LEGALLY BLONDE: THE MUSICAL is great. You should probably get tickets to it.
4) Elle Woods is the most demanding role ever visited on an actress. Laura Bell Bundy must be the offspring of the Energizer Bunny and God On High to perform this role every night.
5) Laura Bell Bundy is the offspring of the Energizer Bunny and God On High. Seriously. Sometimes she doesn't even show up for the show, and the audience still gives her a standing ovation. She's that good. I heard she made Meryl Streep consider a career in air conditioner maintenance.
6) I just checked, and there are still tickets to LEGALLY BLONDE: THE MUSICAL. You're gonna want one of these things.
7) Laura Bell Bundy is so good that, literally, the only person in the world who could possibly succeed her in this role is one of fifteen amateurs, many of whom gleefully acknowledge that they aren't really triple-threats, but maybe only double-threats, or maybe just really threatening singers.
8) Paul Canaan is qualified to cast a Broadway show, despite the fact that his biggest role to date was Clo-Clo in LA CAGE AUX FOLLES. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that, eight times a week, he gets to dance with six other guys somewhere in the vicinity of Laura Bell Bundy.
9) Paul Canaan really wants a TV show. Like, for serious. Has Sean Hayes or, I don't know, Carson Kressley passed on a project you pitched recently? Offer it to Paul. He's literally waiting for your call right now.
9) LEGALLY BLONDE: THE MUSICAL.
10) Hayley Duff apparently got some experimental plastic surgery where they replaced her entire face with the face of a thirty-five-year-old Las Vegas showgirl.
11) Bernie Telsey is an extremely intelligent, knowledgable, thoughtful and experienced casting director.
12) Bernie Telsey makes Heather Hach and Paul Canaan look like Bernie Telsey's interns.
13) LEGALLY BLONDE: THE MUSICAL is the best LEGALLY BLONDE: THE MUSICAL to ever LEGALLY BLONDE: THE MUSICAL.
14) It's okay for a TV show to have a title that's 11 words long and contains two punctuation marks.
Monday, June 9, 2008
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Jason Robert Brown partially restores my faith in American theatre
I have this sort of historical fiction in my head. In it, I'm the same me that I am now, the same age, doing the same job that I do now and find myself confronted by the same problem: I see a lot of shows and the overwhelming majority of those shows aren't very good. "Overwhelming" is a word I use because I am often "overwhelmed" by feelings of discouragement.
In my historical fiction, though, it's 2002. And I've been sent to the Minetta Lane Theatre to see "The Last Five Years," a sung through musical written by a more-or-less unknown composer named Jason Robert Brown, whose only credit to speak of was a musical revue that ran for 12 performances at the WPA seven years ago. I'm probably covering it because Hal Prince's daughter is directing it. I get to Minetta Lane figuring that any halfway decent musical would be playing at a bigger house than this. I get my program and my seat. My heart sinks when I see that Brown wrote the music and the lyrics and that there's no book and -- God... -- he's conducting the modest pit orchestra. Fantastic... another ill-conceived vanity project which, for reasons unknown, has curried the kind of favor that sees Hal Prince's daughter directing your play at the Minetta Lane. And it's a two-hander. Shoot me. Please.
The set's confusing. I think I'm looking down on a wedding reception. Oh dear God, I hope this isn't a relationship yarn. I hate yarns.
The lights come down. A few rolling piano chords and we're off.
And ninety minutes later, I remember why I love theatre.
For some reason, the image of a younger Jason Robert Brown back stage at Minetta Lane, in his blacks, behind a beat up piano, conducting an orchestra of six (including himself) kept coming back to me tonight, as I watched him, in a thermal and slacks, behind an immaculate baby grand, conducting that same orchestra of six at Birdland and he and Lauren Kennedy sang through the score. In the six years between my fantasy and today, "The Last Five Years" has achieved a cult status to rival almost any other show out there, save "Rent" or "Rocky Horror." Its tunes have become a favorite for auditioners and cabaret artists alike. Brown's won a Tony and been nominated for another. He's a rockstar in the theatre community. But six years ago, he wasn't anybody. He was pounding it out for a buck just like any artist trying to make it. That fact is nothing short of magical. And I couldn't get it out of my head tonight.
But that's not really the point. That's kind of abstract and the point is pretty simple: "The Last Five Years" is a fucking good show. And it didn't come from the National in London. And there wasn't an industry reading of it to encourage a bidding war. It started in Skokie, IL and then moved to the big city (sans half its actors) and there it was. The simple fact that a great play just appeared at a small theatre downtown gives me scads of hope. IT COULD HAPPEN. Those three words are exciting. I could go downtown to some studio theater that I've never been to and I could stumble into a beautiful, wonderful show. It's possible. It has happened before. It could happen again.
Great shows are not to provenance of agents and managers and cynical artistic officers.
They don't have to be heralded by great reviews from abroad or from the major regionals.
They can just come from one guy and a piano backstage.
In my historical fiction, though, it's 2002. And I've been sent to the Minetta Lane Theatre to see "The Last Five Years," a sung through musical written by a more-or-less unknown composer named Jason Robert Brown, whose only credit to speak of was a musical revue that ran for 12 performances at the WPA seven years ago. I'm probably covering it because Hal Prince's daughter is directing it. I get to Minetta Lane figuring that any halfway decent musical would be playing at a bigger house than this. I get my program and my seat. My heart sinks when I see that Brown wrote the music and the lyrics and that there's no book and -- God... -- he's conducting the modest pit orchestra. Fantastic... another ill-conceived vanity project which, for reasons unknown, has curried the kind of favor that sees Hal Prince's daughter directing your play at the Minetta Lane. And it's a two-hander. Shoot me. Please.
The set's confusing. I think I'm looking down on a wedding reception. Oh dear God, I hope this isn't a relationship yarn. I hate yarns.
The lights come down. A few rolling piano chords and we're off.
And ninety minutes later, I remember why I love theatre.
For some reason, the image of a younger Jason Robert Brown back stage at Minetta Lane, in his blacks, behind a beat up piano, conducting an orchestra of six (including himself) kept coming back to me tonight, as I watched him, in a thermal and slacks, behind an immaculate baby grand, conducting that same orchestra of six at Birdland and he and Lauren Kennedy sang through the score. In the six years between my fantasy and today, "The Last Five Years" has achieved a cult status to rival almost any other show out there, save "Rent" or "Rocky Horror." Its tunes have become a favorite for auditioners and cabaret artists alike. Brown's won a Tony and been nominated for another. He's a rockstar in the theatre community. But six years ago, he wasn't anybody. He was pounding it out for a buck just like any artist trying to make it. That fact is nothing short of magical. And I couldn't get it out of my head tonight.
But that's not really the point. That's kind of abstract and the point is pretty simple: "The Last Five Years" is a fucking good show. And it didn't come from the National in London. And there wasn't an industry reading of it to encourage a bidding war. It started in Skokie, IL and then moved to the big city (sans half its actors) and there it was. The simple fact that a great play just appeared at a small theatre downtown gives me scads of hope. IT COULD HAPPEN. Those three words are exciting. I could go downtown to some studio theater that I've never been to and I could stumble into a beautiful, wonderful show. It's possible. It has happened before. It could happen again.
Great shows are not to provenance of agents and managers and cynical artistic officers.
They don't have to be heralded by great reviews from abroad or from the major regionals.
They can just come from one guy and a piano backstage.
Friday, February 1, 2008
Lost Season Premiere
The season premiere of LOST rates a solid C. Locke taking control of a group of survivors, a new character portrayed by Jeremy Davies, "The Oceanic 6": good. Charlie the Friendly Ghost, humorless Hurley, and enough riddles to choke a sphinx: bad. All in all a definite entry in the "crusty/creaky" genre of LOST episodes.
After the decided lull in the middle of season three, I think we all suspected that the Bad Robot idea well might be, if not running dry, then certainly kicking up brackish water. Add that downturn in creativity to bloated expectations following a ridiculously long inter-season hiatus, and you're looking at a recipe for a disappointment casserole. That this episode wasn't great doesn't bother me, what does is that I have a sneaking suspicion that LOST might be over, or, at least, that I might be over LOST.
Here are the clues from which I draw my conclusion:
1) The change in format. Flash forwards? Great idea. I'm 100% behind them. We've spent so much time exploring the characters' myriad (often tedious) backstories, that I'm more than happy to get a change of perspective. But, you can't disagree that going to flash forwards fundementally changes the dynamic of the show. Regardless of how they frame the show, the narrative that we ostensibly care about is the one that's happening on the island. The way the show works is that we watch the island, we have no fucking idea what's going on, we see a flash back, and we understand a little better. It's a gradual enlightening process that's quite effective. What we have now is this sort of teasing process. We watch the island, we have no fucking idea what's going on, we see a flash forward that promises that what's going on is totally significant somehow, then we go back to island and still have no fucking idea what's going on. Which brings me to my next point:
2) The delicate balance of LOST. So, the main driving force behind LOST is confusion and the basic human want to overcome confusion. For the first two seasons, LOST was effective because it answered as many questions as it posed, so you were constantly feeling that relief of understanding but, at the same time, you were always tantalized. This new format obviously lends itself to asking more questions than it answers. Already, within the first episode, I find myself drooling all over myself, hungry for answers to about a thousand questions. How did they get off the island? Why did Hurley regret going with Locke? Who's that well dressed, bald gentleman? So many questions and more to come next week. And when will we get answers to these questions? Well, even in the future, most of the characters seem not to know what the hell is going on, so I'm guessing not any time soon.
3) The other delicate balance of LOST. I've always loved that the secrets of LOST seem so out of the ordinary. There's a mysterious island, but it seems to exist within some set of scientific rules. There are explanations for things which are, in some way, worldly and comprehensible. That fact is pretty much mandatory in a universe where I expect, at some point, I'll understand what's going on. So, when the show starts employing ghosts and people teleporting and houses appearing out of nowhere, I start to wonder if I'm really getting in to something I can get myself out of, or if I'm ultimately going to find that I've wandered into supernatural-land, and that the show is just going to throw up its hands and say "Yeah, the supernatural... who knows?"
The thing is that LOST isn't the best written or produced show on TV, so, to hold my attention, they have to be pretty meticulous in their plotting. They have to give me stuff that I like (read: compelling questions and satisfying answers) and keep the stuff I don't (read: almost everything else except for John Locke and Ben Linus... and Evangeline Lilly... but not Kate Austen). I've still got (not particularly high) hopes that next week's episode will pull us back from the edge and ground things a little more in reality, a little more in the world of the island, and a little more in a plot that can solve all of the mysteries it creates.
After the decided lull in the middle of season three, I think we all suspected that the Bad Robot idea well might be, if not running dry, then certainly kicking up brackish water. Add that downturn in creativity to bloated expectations following a ridiculously long inter-season hiatus, and you're looking at a recipe for a disappointment casserole. That this episode wasn't great doesn't bother me, what does is that I have a sneaking suspicion that LOST might be over, or, at least, that I might be over LOST.
Here are the clues from which I draw my conclusion:
1) The change in format. Flash forwards? Great idea. I'm 100% behind them. We've spent so much time exploring the characters' myriad (often tedious) backstories, that I'm more than happy to get a change of perspective. But, you can't disagree that going to flash forwards fundementally changes the dynamic of the show. Regardless of how they frame the show, the narrative that we ostensibly care about is the one that's happening on the island. The way the show works is that we watch the island, we have no fucking idea what's going on, we see a flash back, and we understand a little better. It's a gradual enlightening process that's quite effective. What we have now is this sort of teasing process. We watch the island, we have no fucking idea what's going on, we see a flash forward that promises that what's going on is totally significant somehow, then we go back to island and still have no fucking idea what's going on. Which brings me to my next point:
2) The delicate balance of LOST. So, the main driving force behind LOST is confusion and the basic human want to overcome confusion. For the first two seasons, LOST was effective because it answered as many questions as it posed, so you were constantly feeling that relief of understanding but, at the same time, you were always tantalized. This new format obviously lends itself to asking more questions than it answers. Already, within the first episode, I find myself drooling all over myself, hungry for answers to about a thousand questions. How did they get off the island? Why did Hurley regret going with Locke? Who's that well dressed, bald gentleman? So many questions and more to come next week. And when will we get answers to these questions? Well, even in the future, most of the characters seem not to know what the hell is going on, so I'm guessing not any time soon.
3) The other delicate balance of LOST. I've always loved that the secrets of LOST seem so out of the ordinary. There's a mysterious island, but it seems to exist within some set of scientific rules. There are explanations for things which are, in some way, worldly and comprehensible. That fact is pretty much mandatory in a universe where I expect, at some point, I'll understand what's going on. So, when the show starts employing ghosts and people teleporting and houses appearing out of nowhere, I start to wonder if I'm really getting in to something I can get myself out of, or if I'm ultimately going to find that I've wandered into supernatural-land, and that the show is just going to throw up its hands and say "Yeah, the supernatural... who knows?"
The thing is that LOST isn't the best written or produced show on TV, so, to hold my attention, they have to be pretty meticulous in their plotting. They have to give me stuff that I like (read: compelling questions and satisfying answers) and keep the stuff I don't (read: almost everything else except for John Locke and Ben Linus... and Evangeline Lilly... but not Kate Austen). I've still got (not particularly high) hopes that next week's episode will pull us back from the edge and ground things a little more in reality, a little more in the world of the island, and a little more in a plot that can solve all of the mysteries it creates.
Monday, December 31, 2007
An insincere apology
So, glancing back at some old blog posts, I've noticed that a) I tend to misspell a lot of stuff and b) I tend to use words that don't, technically, make any kind of logical sense in the context in which they're used (see: "an infinitely loop").
I just wanted to quickly post and say that I know that I do this and that I'm sorry. Oh, and also that I'm not really sorry. Oh, and also that if you had read one of my blog posts and been really disgusted by the spelling or syntax, that you should probably look into procuring yourself some kind of life. I know I plan to do so, just as soon as I'm done reading my own blog at 3:30 in the morning.
Happy New Year!
I just wanted to quickly post and say that I know that I do this and that I'm sorry. Oh, and also that I'm not really sorry. Oh, and also that if you had read one of my blog posts and been really disgusted by the spelling or syntax, that you should probably look into procuring yourself some kind of life. I know I plan to do so, just as soon as I'm done reading my own blog at 3:30 in the morning.
Happy New Year!
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Merry Christmas!
I love Christmas! And I've had a great one! I opened presents (and got lots of great stuff), I spent a lovely afternoon with my family, I watched both "White Christmas" and "Holiday Inn," I had a great Christmas dinner, and then the family settled in for a lovely yuletide vieweing of "Live Free or Die Hard."
Afterward, most of the family went to bed, and my dad and I watched a few episodes of "The Office" on TBS. During which I saw this commercial about fifty times: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LiV0vvFvl1M.
My day was so good that I thought I would take this opportunity to finally finally finally vent all of the vitriol that has been mounting inside me about this commercial since the first time I saw it, about nine months ago! Ahh... I feel relieved already. What a lovely gift to myself.
So, I grew up in Maryland, and I'm used to Mattress Discounter commercials with poor production values. But, right off the bat, this is something different. This is a national advertising campaign. This is a commercial which gets run, presumably, against commercials like the Dominoes thing with the guy with the Oreo beard and that one with all the pickup trucks and that John Mellencamp song. All right, so it's not the AFI 100, but these are presumably ads which are created by professionals who are supposedly schooled in the art of making people want to buy stuff.
It's also different because it's been running for nine months. As near as I can figure, this means one of two things: a) Jose Cuervo has an advertising department which is either too stupid to know that they've got one of the worst commercials on television, or b)this ad campaign actually makes people want to drink Cuervo Black Medallion. Now, I've blogged extensively on the anti-intellectual/condescending/destructive nature of most of what gets sent out on the air waves (especially things which purport to show cool people acting cool), and I'm fully prepared to expect the worst from people, but to think that anybody's opinions are swayed by this ad is just too much for me. Just suggesting that it might makes me want to go take a long nap.
What is so offensive about this ad campaign? What has roused my ire such that I have deemed it a Christmas gift to myself to write this post? What, in short, makes this Jose Cuervo ad the single worst commercial on television? Oh, a few things. Let's make a list, shall we?
1) Right out of the gate, the commercial is structured like a how-to on how to order a Cuervo Black and Cola. Okay, I'll be honest, that kind of rouses my interest. Obviously, there's virtually nothing easier than ordering a drink, especially when the sole ingredients of the drink are listed in the name of the drink. But, apparently order a CBC (as I like to call it) requires more finesse. I'd like to hear more. I mention this only because the slight rise in expectation only deepens the crushing blow to follow.
2) The commercial is shot like a music video. Edit: a bad music video. And with enough bad fades and bad transitions to make me think that it was probably edited on iMovie. To this point, my criticisms are minor and mostly matters of taste, but things are about to go way downhill.
3) STEP ONE: WALKUP TO THE BAR. There are at least two major things wrong with this. First and foremost, "walkup" is not a word. I assume that they mean "walk up" and they've fallen victim to the same misapprehension that sees fourth-graders writing sentences like "I eat ice cream alot." How does something like that get passed a copy editor? Really? And after so long? Nobody thought "There's a major type-o right in the middle of the second title. Maybe we should pull the ad?" So so so lazy. So so so unapologetically stupid. Second big issue: the first step in ordering any drink is walking up to the bar. They may as well say "STEP ONE: DRIVE TO A PLACE THAT SELLS CUERVO BLACK." Whoops... sorry. "STEP ONE: DRIVETO A PLACE THAT SELLS CUERVO BLACK." Why even bother choosing this stupid step-by-step form? Because otherwise this commercial would literally cease to exist.
4) Who do you think is sexier? The dark-eyed guy in the muscle shirt with the five o'clock shadow? Or the dark-eyed guy in the peasant blouse with the five o'clock shadow?
5) STEP TWO: ORDER A CUERVO BLACK AND COLA. Wait a minute. Wait... wait a minute. I don't know how to do that. Right? I mean, that's why I'm hear, right? Okay, so... let's just see here... So, I want to order a CBC. So, following these directions... I just walk up to the bar. I order the CBC. Wait a minute, how do I do that... Let's see... Okay, I just walk up to the bar and I... Great. Now I'm stuck in an infinitely loop. Again.
6) "No no, buddy. With Cola." You idiot. You fucking loser. God, I don't know why I even come to this place. Seriously. You think I'm just some kind of fucking jackoff who just comes to a place and orders a shot of Cuervo Black? Did you even see my five o'clock shadow? This obvious message here is: "Listen up, hip people of the world. Those bartenders, they're gonna try to hold you back. You're going to order the Cuervo Black and Cola, the MOTHER OF ALL HIP, COOL DRINKS, and they're just gonna be like "What? Cuervo Black in a shot glass? Coming right up." You're going to have to be constantly vigilant. Don't expect the world to understand. Sometimes all you can do is shake your head and say, "No no, buddy. Friend. Pal. I believe I said 'with cola.'"
7) Oh, and feel free to have a good laugh with your hip friends when that total homo behind the bar reaches for the shot glass. You can feel free to spit in his face if you feel like it. Anybody who fears the CBC is gonna get trampled by life eventually anyway.
8) STEP 3: SIT BACK, RELAX AND... You know, I almost begrudgingly admire this moment. The obvious message, as is almost always the case with these kinds of commercials is, "Use our products and you can fuck hot chicks." But here, subliminally, the Cuervo people almost actually say that out loud. To my mind, the obvious ending to this sentence, in context, is "Sit back, relax and fuck this blonde girl." And, because the sentence doesn't end on the title card, and because we jump right from the narrator to the girl saying "Enjoy," it feels just about the same as if they came right out and said it. I don't have much more to say on that topic, because if you think that drinking cool drinks means that you get to bed hot chicks, well then... I'd love to hang out where you hang out.
9) It's sort of a throw away, but because the longest continuous narration comes at the end, it seems like the apt place to point out the narrator's voice. He's got that awful, lecherous morning DJ voice, but it's filtered through a phone filter, so it sounds... I don't know... even cooler? I don't mean cool in terms of reality cool. More cool in the terms of VH1's "I Love the 90s" cool. Like, basically, I totally believe that the guy with that voice would hang out with the guy in the muscle shirt.
So, I don't know about you, but I feel a lot better having written this. I mean, I don't have much of resonance to say about it. It's basically just the most vapid, uninspired, illogical, counter-intuitive commercial that I can possibly imagine. It is the apotheosis of the shallowest possible version of coolness captured on film and played (by my count) at least three times in a half hour broadcast. And, in the end, I'm most offended by the idea that that version of cool is going to sell product. I mean, apparently it does, but why? Why does it and why should it and why can it? Those are the questions which immediately come to mind every time I see that stupid dance step title that starts off the whole abysmal mess. And that rush of disgust at humanity is about enough to ensure that, despite being a great lover of tequila, cola and non-conventional drinks all, I will never ever ever ever order a Cuervo Black and Cola.
For more on this, I invite you to check out my MySpace blog on MTV reality television, which explains in far greater detail the ways in which TV is probably unwinding the fabric of society.
Merry Christmas to me!
Afterward, most of the family went to bed, and my dad and I watched a few episodes of "The Office" on TBS. During which I saw this commercial about fifty times: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LiV0vvFvl1M.
My day was so good that I thought I would take this opportunity to finally finally finally vent all of the vitriol that has been mounting inside me about this commercial since the first time I saw it, about nine months ago! Ahh... I feel relieved already. What a lovely gift to myself.
So, I grew up in Maryland, and I'm used to Mattress Discounter commercials with poor production values. But, right off the bat, this is something different. This is a national advertising campaign. This is a commercial which gets run, presumably, against commercials like the Dominoes thing with the guy with the Oreo beard and that one with all the pickup trucks and that John Mellencamp song. All right, so it's not the AFI 100, but these are presumably ads which are created by professionals who are supposedly schooled in the art of making people want to buy stuff.
It's also different because it's been running for nine months. As near as I can figure, this means one of two things: a) Jose Cuervo has an advertising department which is either too stupid to know that they've got one of the worst commercials on television, or b)this ad campaign actually makes people want to drink Cuervo Black Medallion. Now, I've blogged extensively on the anti-intellectual/condescending/destructive nature of most of what gets sent out on the air waves (especially things which purport to show cool people acting cool), and I'm fully prepared to expect the worst from people, but to think that anybody's opinions are swayed by this ad is just too much for me. Just suggesting that it might makes me want to go take a long nap.
What is so offensive about this ad campaign? What has roused my ire such that I have deemed it a Christmas gift to myself to write this post? What, in short, makes this Jose Cuervo ad the single worst commercial on television? Oh, a few things. Let's make a list, shall we?
1) Right out of the gate, the commercial is structured like a how-to on how to order a Cuervo Black and Cola. Okay, I'll be honest, that kind of rouses my interest. Obviously, there's virtually nothing easier than ordering a drink, especially when the sole ingredients of the drink are listed in the name of the drink. But, apparently order a CBC (as I like to call it) requires more finesse. I'd like to hear more. I mention this only because the slight rise in expectation only deepens the crushing blow to follow.
2) The commercial is shot like a music video. Edit: a bad music video. And with enough bad fades and bad transitions to make me think that it was probably edited on iMovie. To this point, my criticisms are minor and mostly matters of taste, but things are about to go way downhill.
3) STEP ONE: WALKUP TO THE BAR. There are at least two major things wrong with this. First and foremost, "walkup" is not a word. I assume that they mean "walk up" and they've fallen victim to the same misapprehension that sees fourth-graders writing sentences like "I eat ice cream alot." How does something like that get passed a copy editor? Really? And after so long? Nobody thought "There's a major type-o right in the middle of the second title. Maybe we should pull the ad?" So so so lazy. So so so unapologetically stupid. Second big issue: the first step in ordering any drink is walking up to the bar. They may as well say "STEP ONE: DRIVE TO A PLACE THAT SELLS CUERVO BLACK." Whoops... sorry. "STEP ONE: DRIVETO A PLACE THAT SELLS CUERVO BLACK." Why even bother choosing this stupid step-by-step form? Because otherwise this commercial would literally cease to exist.
4) Who do you think is sexier? The dark-eyed guy in the muscle shirt with the five o'clock shadow? Or the dark-eyed guy in the peasant blouse with the five o'clock shadow?
5) STEP TWO: ORDER A CUERVO BLACK AND COLA. Wait a minute. Wait... wait a minute. I don't know how to do that. Right? I mean, that's why I'm hear, right? Okay, so... let's just see here... So, I want to order a CBC. So, following these directions... I just walk up to the bar. I order the CBC. Wait a minute, how do I do that... Let's see... Okay, I just walk up to the bar and I... Great. Now I'm stuck in an infinitely loop. Again.
6) "No no, buddy. With Cola." You idiot. You fucking loser. God, I don't know why I even come to this place. Seriously. You think I'm just some kind of fucking jackoff who just comes to a place and orders a shot of Cuervo Black? Did you even see my five o'clock shadow? This obvious message here is: "Listen up, hip people of the world. Those bartenders, they're gonna try to hold you back. You're going to order the Cuervo Black and Cola, the MOTHER OF ALL HIP, COOL DRINKS, and they're just gonna be like "What? Cuervo Black in a shot glass? Coming right up." You're going to have to be constantly vigilant. Don't expect the world to understand. Sometimes all you can do is shake your head and say, "No no, buddy. Friend. Pal. I believe I said 'with cola.'"
7) Oh, and feel free to have a good laugh with your hip friends when that total homo behind the bar reaches for the shot glass. You can feel free to spit in his face if you feel like it. Anybody who fears the CBC is gonna get trampled by life eventually anyway.
8) STEP 3: SIT BACK, RELAX AND... You know, I almost begrudgingly admire this moment. The obvious message, as is almost always the case with these kinds of commercials is, "Use our products and you can fuck hot chicks." But here, subliminally, the Cuervo people almost actually say that out loud. To my mind, the obvious ending to this sentence, in context, is "Sit back, relax and fuck this blonde girl." And, because the sentence doesn't end on the title card, and because we jump right from the narrator to the girl saying "Enjoy," it feels just about the same as if they came right out and said it. I don't have much more to say on that topic, because if you think that drinking cool drinks means that you get to bed hot chicks, well then... I'd love to hang out where you hang out.
9) It's sort of a throw away, but because the longest continuous narration comes at the end, it seems like the apt place to point out the narrator's voice. He's got that awful, lecherous morning DJ voice, but it's filtered through a phone filter, so it sounds... I don't know... even cooler? I don't mean cool in terms of reality cool. More cool in the terms of VH1's "I Love the 90s" cool. Like, basically, I totally believe that the guy with that voice would hang out with the guy in the muscle shirt.
So, I don't know about you, but I feel a lot better having written this. I mean, I don't have much of resonance to say about it. It's basically just the most vapid, uninspired, illogical, counter-intuitive commercial that I can possibly imagine. It is the apotheosis of the shallowest possible version of coolness captured on film and played (by my count) at least three times in a half hour broadcast. And, in the end, I'm most offended by the idea that that version of cool is going to sell product. I mean, apparently it does, but why? Why does it and why should it and why can it? Those are the questions which immediately come to mind every time I see that stupid dance step title that starts off the whole abysmal mess. And that rush of disgust at humanity is about enough to ensure that, despite being a great lover of tequila, cola and non-conventional drinks all, I will never ever ever ever order a Cuervo Black and Cola.
For more on this, I invite you to check out my MySpace blog on MTV reality television, which explains in far greater detail the ways in which TV is probably unwinding the fabric of society.
Merry Christmas to me!
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Here's a free tip: if you start drinking at 1:30 in the afternoon, and drink until 6:30 at night, that's probably it for you. You're probably not gonna bounce back for a party later than night. Probably best just to eat an entire pizza and pass out for an hour and then spend the rest of your night wallowing in your pre-sleep hangover. At least, that's what I did.
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