February Fun Facts

DID YOU KNOW...?

February is the shortest month of the year. Of course you did. You'd have to be a blithering idiot to date a check 2/30. That is, unless you were going to the dentist. Wait for it...

February is also the month when my first show of the year will be produced, a one night stand of DEAD TUESDAY (the play formerly known as THE PERILS OF FRANCOIS). Sugar High Theatricals of Galesburg, Illinois is staging this fairy tale murder mystery o' mine on the appropriate date...Feb. 28 which this year is Fat Tuesday, cher! Perfect for a Mardi Gras themed show such as this. Laissez les bons temps rouler!

The Welsh call February "y mis bach" which means "little month". Except no one can pronounce it. Except Tom Jones.

The best new show on TV currently is TABOO on FX starring my current favorite actor Tom Hardy. There is not a single false note in this brilliant show set in 19th century England, dark and dank as anything I've ever seen. Runners-up are Netflix's THE CROWN (Peter Morgan is a god) and STRANGER THINGS, the best Stephen King story not written by Stephen King. The latter includes my new favorite actress, Millie Bobby Brown, quite the recommendation since I generally never like child performers and she is positively extraordinary to the point that she may even be extra-terrestrial. On the other end of the spectrum, Netflix's SANTA CLARITA DIET is a stink bomb. Timothy Olyphant needs to be sedated and Drew Barrymore is putrid in this unfunny, unfocused sit-com that is getting raves from a very indiscriminate audience.

It is the third month of winter. In the Southern Hemisphere February is a summer month the equivalent of August. After this winter, the Southern hemisphere can kiss my frozen ass. (Sorry. The cold weather has made me cranky.)

My birthday movie this year was the much-lauded LA LA LAND, a wonderful choice if I do blog so myself. It's not perfect by any means, but there are moments that touch pure magic, such as the last ten minutes, that justify any kudos this has garnered thus far. It will indeed win a flock o' Oscars, much like its closest comparison, THE ARTIST, from a few years ago. But if I were to be perfectly honest, I would say that the similarly themed L.A. STORY, written and starring Steve Martin, is the better film. Regardless of that sleight, my movie-going experience was top notch especially when I decided to attend a single screen cinema in Portland instead of a dreaded multi-plex, a major reason my attendance has been so apathetic in the last few years. So dadgum it, I treated myself and will do so again. Nyah.                          

     

                                                      

The largest American sporting event the Super Bowl, is held in February. Did I watch it? No, I totally boycotted the Super Bowl this year. Of course, I never watch it to begin with, so it's not that much of a stand. I did watch the half-time show on the YouTube and thought Lady Gaga crushed it. If you didn't like Gaga's performance or want to comment on her supposed belly fat, you can crowd in front of the Southern hemisphere and pucker up, you slimy trolls.

The Saxon term for the month, Sol-monath, means "cake month". This is because they offered cakes to the gods during this month.

So as the world continues to circle the drain, enjoy a piece of cake, Saxon-style. No, not in a Marie Antoinette way. Treat yourself. You need it. Maybe have some pie instead. Pie is good.

Monday Morning Oscar Quaterback

Some thoughts from this year's Oscarcast:

*Neil Patrick Harris is the best host since Hugh Jackman. I ate every single word of what I wrote on my last blog.

*The show itself is always going to be a bloated, lumbering spectacle, but this time around, the formula worked more often than not. Some things could have been cut: Harris' "magic" trick, Jennifer Hudson's song-while beautifully performed-was meh.

*The "In Memoriam" segment-AKA The Death Parade-should have included Eddie Murphy's inability to make anyone laugh ever again.

*I love the fact that whatever political statements that were added to acceptance speeches is really frying the Up-Tighty Righties out there who were predisposed to hate the entire affair in the first place due to their hatred of the Hollywood crowd as a whole. And yet, they'll be watching it again next year.

*But hey, Hollyweirdos, you guys really are setting yourselves up to easy targets, ain't ya?

*During Patricia Arquette's call for equal pay, they immediately cut to Meryl Streep for validation. She didn't disappoint.

*Nothing would have been awesome if THE LEGO MOVIE won for Best Song

* Following John Legend and Common's performance of "Glory" from SELMA, bringing the audience to their feet with cheers and tears (White Liberal Guilt at its finest!) and their subsequent win, came the tribute of THE SOUND OF MUSIC, the WHITEST piece of entertainment in the whole wide world Good timing, people.

*However...Lady Gaga took another step closer to Heaven with her performance.

*Julie Andrews' entrance following Gaga even brought a tear to this SOUND OF MUSIC hater's eye.

*Oprah actually she believes she's the heir apparent to the late Maya Angelou. Who in Hollywood is going to tell her otherwise? Since I'm not there, I will. She ain't.

*No problem with any of the awards given this this year. My predictions meant absolutely zilch to me. (I went 3 for 7. Piss poor but who cares?) I'm as pleased as punch that my birthday movie from this year, BIRDMAN, picked up the grand prize. I wanted my man Keaton to pick up Best Actor, but the movie itself is his trophy. Besides, they decided to go the MY LEFT FOOT route with Eddie Redmayne. Julianne Moore, a favorite for Lead Actress since the day she was cast in in STILL ALICE, was the night's only legitimate lock. Why didn't the film itself get some kind of nod? Glad to see GRAND BUDAPEST HOTEL and WHIPLASH get some love too.

*Sean Penn's quip about Alejandro Inarritu's green card was so inappropriate that I loved it.

*The ratings were down for this year, many blaming the grandstanding, but there were more obvious factors to consider. The Oscars, at the tale end of the season, have lost their lustre in recent years due to the glut of broadcast awards show (i,e. Golden Globers, SAG, People's Choice, Critic's Choice, Taster's Choice, etc.) The studios backload all their prestigious films to the end of the year in hopes of award glory, making an already cynical public suspicious of the process. It ball boils down to oversaturated fat and overkill. There's really only so much glad-handing the public can take.

*Most of the recipients honored their families in more ways than one. J.K. Simmons thanking his wife, above-average children and his parents prompted him to tell us to call our own folks. Others made a point of mentioning family members, alive and dead (as in the director of IDA's case). Amazing, with all this standing on the soap box known as the worldwide broadcast of the Academy Awards, these people have, what do Conservatives call it, FAMILY VALUES. 

Son of a gun.

Hooray for Hollywood for a change.

Oh My Gaga

Hope y'all had a swell Mother's Day, at least half as good as we did this year. It kinda gave me a warm fuzzy feeling all over, enough to counteract the mishegoss of the last little while. Adding to the family-friendly atmosphere of this past weekend was a lotta Gaga. HBO ran the Lady's Monster Ball Tour special taped at Madison Garden in a marathon 24 hour showing from Saturday night to Sunday. I never usually watch concerts since I get bored less than half-way through. 'Twasn't the case here. This girl doesn't have time for dull stretches. That girl's fierce energy is contagious! Not only did I watch it the whole hour and 55 minutes show, but also watched the encore about three extra times.

Love that BORN THIS WAY finale. I know it's pretty derivative of TLC's WATERFALLS and Madonna'a EXPRESS YOURSELF, but I cannot resist its heart and soul...or the Gaga either. To me, she is the next step on the evolutionary staircase. Cher begat Madonna, Madonna begat Gaga and on the 7th day, She was exhausted.