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I take a great deal of pride in my disinterest in the lives of celebrities, but every so often something big enough does come along to peak my interest, and certainly the series of taped phone conversations touted as "the absolute end of Mel Gibson's career" seemed like enough of a blockbuster to draw even me into the slums of the internet tabloid sites.
The initial information I was hearing was about Gibson on a "racist rant," so I was expecting something more along the lines of Kramer-gate. This isn't exactly the case. Over the twenty-some minutes of phone conversation, there were, by my count, two racial slurs, neither of which were directed at Gibson's girlfriend who on the other line. (She is someone that does something and I really don't care enough about her to bother looking up her name again.) There was, however, a whole host of death threats, c-bombs, and at least one confession of domestic abuse. Funny, given all that, that the media keyed in on the two rather insignificant racial slurs. I guess "racist" has a better ring than "live-in-girlfriend/baby-mama puncher" Not to go all Bill O'Riley-Blame-the-Victim about it, but there's also a fair amount of baiting from the girlfriend, who is fully aware she's taping a very drunk and irate Gibson, to aid old Mel in further digging himself into a hole.
If anything the experience was... entertaining. Though the time would have been better spent watching Cheers, probably.
Now, I'm not big fan of racism or domestic abuse. Truth be told, I think they're both just crumby. But honestly, why would I, or anybody else, feel even a gram of emotion over this? Frankly the personal nature of the incident prevents it from even being a meltdown on par with that of Kramer-gate, which, if nothing else, took place publicly, and at people who, outside of maybe being rude, were minding their own business. I think it's become embarrassing stain on our society that we create a job market for this brand of shit-seeking. So we can be exposed to personal phone calls and wring our hands deciding if Mel needs to go to jail for his lady punching or rehab for his substance abuse problems. Substance abuse problems we've all determined must be present because WE heard twenty minutes of taped phone conversation featuring the drunken star of Maverick.
I'm certainly not defending what I heard, I simply don't protest to know any more about the inner-workings of the mind of Mel Gibson than he knows about mine. For all I'm aware, Mel Gibson might be an upstanding guy who's fallen on hard times, or he might be a rampaging lunatic who likes to do blow off of stripper dicks and get choked by trannys to get his rocks off. Either way, Godspeed (You! Black Emperor) It's not my concern. My concern begins and ends with Maverick. Much in the same sense that the girl who bags my groceries might be a swell young lady who helps the elderly cross the street and volunteers at soup kitchens, or she might dish out sexual favors behind Taco Bell dumpsters for meth. Again, my concern is how it may or may not affect the bagging of my groceries.
This holds especially true in the case of actors or other celebrities who's work doesn't carry a certain level of intimacy with the audience. Elliott Smith wrote songs about his life, and Mel fought marauders in a world devoid of gasoline, so I feel like I have a slightly better window into the life of the former. Does that mean I actually know any more about Elliott Smith? Maybe, but probably not.
Anyway, I still like Chuck Berry, Gary Glitter, Michael Jackson, and Chris Benoit, so there's a reasonably significant chance I'm not the best person to ask. And I'm not going to tell you that J-Lo looking fat in a bikini doesn't validate your life in some way. It might. ...it just probably shouldn't. You'd be best served by not giving the slightest rats ass about the domestic squabbles of people you've never met. The time you spent caring are precious moments you'll never get back again.
In a strange way, you sort of want to root for Eminem. It's a rare gift when an artist has the self-awareness to address the overall shittiness of some of their previous work, which comes up frequently on Recovery. Despite that I'm not what you'd call a "fan," as someone who took the time to listen to both Encore and Relapse I appreciate the apology. It was nice of him. Unfortunately that is probably the most positive thing I have to say about Recovery. The idea of Eminem making some grand return to prominence with a truly raw, evocative new album is what that just seemed... right. It seems like the natural course of history, wherein a once monumental figure of hip hop overcame a difficult period to release something truly excellent. Unfortunately, the most accurate description of the album is "well, it's not embarrassing or terrible."
And, in truth, it's not embarrassing or terrible. It's just not very good. Eminem's lightening fast and furious delivery seems to be the focus, which, in itself, is back to where it once was, but the songs themselves often fall flat and it seems more like you're listening to an exhibition of technical proficiency than an album. It's like Dream Theater, but with Michael J. Fox jokes. More frequently than not, Em's "fire" overwhelms the rest of what's going on on the track. The beats are academic and, while I wouldn't say "uninspired," because he clearly is very focused this time around, they're predictable and often disconnected from the lyrics. The music seems like an afterthought.
As has become the tradition with Eminem records, Em is at his best, and most clever, when he isn't trying to be topical. The pop culture references are kept to a bare minimum here, which plays in the albums favor. Even as a snobby jerk who doesn't enjoy this type of material at all, there were a few lines that managed to make me crack a smile, which I take as a good sign for his audience.
Not surprisingly, one of the highlights here is the Dr. Dre produced "So Bad" which sounds positively retro and is one of the few songs that actually seems to have a traditional hook, in contrast to the rest of the album which has an unfortunate tendency to blend together. "Almost Famous" and "Love the Way You Lie" also manage to pop a little, but by that point you've been listening for nearly an hour. It seems like you could have easily cut most of the opening seven tracks and wound up with a much stronger final product.
Overall, fans will probably be pleased. This is certainly a marked improvement over Em's last two records and hopefully the opening notes of the second chapter of his storied career. Conversely, while an avid hip hop fan will appreciate much of this, there is absolutely nothing here for the casual listener. So don't bother.
Imagine for a second that you have an extremely annoying and musically clueless little cousin who's approximately 14-17 years old. Then use your powers of make believe to envision them running up to you one day and proclaiming "oh mi gawd, Michael (for the sake of this example, your name is Michael) two of the dudes from Panic! At the Disco started a new band and it sounds JUST LIKE The Beatles!! It's amazing and/or is horrible and they sold out!!" Short of beating yourself to death with a heavily instrument, you would, at very least, not bother with the record in question since it a) doesn't sound like The Beatles as your cousin is an idiot who's sole insights into the music of the 1960's came from the film Across The Universe and b) is no doubt the newest variation of deplorable emo claptrap you just haven't been made aware of yet.
Well, you'd be half right. It doesn't sound like The Beatles. What's funny is that you wouldn't even need an intimate knowledge of the '60s to be able to come up with at least three hugely mainstream examples that the debut offering from ex-Panic! offspring The Young Veins sounds more like. The Kinks, The Hollies, The Kinks, The... okay for fuck's sake, it sounds a lot like The Kinks if anything. I'd like to be able to name-check something more obscure to impress the name-check crowed, but that does seem to be the leading influence here.
Even without a detailed account of the inner workings of emo upstarts Panic! At the Disco 'round about the time of their break-up, it's not exactly difficult to surmise what happened here. Four school friends start trendy emo band, get signed, have hit record, discuss possible adventurism on sophomore record, make said record to surprisingly good results, then break up because half of the band had heard albums that weren't by Fall Out Boy and decided that those records were pretty good too. "But, Fall Out Boy, Dude!" the other half proclaimed. ...but by that point it was probably no use.
What's noteworthy about Take a Vacation! in contrast to so many other strictly-revival records of the past ten years is that it doesn't seem to have any inclination to claim the sound as it's own. Rather it's almost an exhibition of talent in The Young Veins' ability to portray the 60's so effortlessly, they don't seem to be interested in giving it an edgy, modern twist. The songs sound truly dated, which, in this case, is actually kind of charming. A nice break from modern records which often ask the listener for a rather hefty emotional investment. Nothing here is epic and nothing here is trying to be.
The clear stand-outs come in "Change," the lead single which has been floating around myspace for the better part of a year, and curiously sounds like in the right context, could play as somewhat of a dis-track to Ross and Walker's former bandmates. "Some people never change / The just stay the same way," as well as the breezy title track.
With the retro-revival trend dying off, it's funny that one of the strongest examples of how to do it right comes from such an unlikely source. Say what you will about Panic! At the Disco, The Young Veins are clearly something else entirely, and it would be foolish of anyone to write off this fun summer record without giving it a fair shake. It's a very enjoyable little vintage-sounding romp with not a single groaner among the tracks to be found.
I've been finishing up my spring semester over the past several weeks, and, as such, I haven't had as much time as I'd like to devote toward voicing my deeply important opinions about my favorite storytelling medium. So I figured rather than desperately claw away at a gigantic pile of back-viewing, I'll just get back up to speed with a series of miniature reviews. Think of it like youtube comments, except that I probably won't bring up illegal immigrants or Hitler.
Newsish:
Lie to Me gets third season pick-up... for 13 episodes.
Fox never has faith in anything. So it comes as no surprise that while they haven't had the balls to give up on Lie to Me yet, they still refuse to let it run like a show they trust. Odd considering I don't know what Fox thinks might magically happen in season three of the show. This is it fellas. This is your audience. These are your numbers. Pick a viewing season, order a full 24, or shut the fuck up and go home already.
To clarify, there's nothing wrong with a 13 episode season if that's what you do. Frankly, more shows would benefit from a 10-13 season rather than 24, but in the states, and on network, 13 means is you're a bubble show. ...or there's a writers strike. I've enjoyed season two up until present, but there still isn't much of an ongoing serial element, which is going to be the eventual death of the series.
Starz Cancels Party Down
Seriously? Were it not for the unexpected juggernaut of Community, Party Down would have been the most promising sitcom is years. As history stands, it comes in a distant second place, but even still. It was creative, loveable, and outrageously funny. Given the lack of sets, special effects, or heavy promotion (although the promotion wasn't awful), I'm guessing that the cast had a hefty price-tag, and the ratings didn't offset the cost. Still, why doesn't anyone have any pride in their programming anymore? Starz is a bottom-feeding third-tier movie channel and it was nice to see them offer up a really impressive piece of original programming. What else does the crumby wouldbe HBO have? (Granted, I have not seen "Gravity", which might be decent.) As a newbie in the original programming world, a savvy business move would have been to absorb the cost of Party Down to cater to the hip, indie-TV audience, and help draw more viewers in to other subsequent projects. Instead we get twenty great episodes and starz will return to the place to watch three-year-old movies in your underpants while you're drunk.
Reviewish:
Family Guy – Season 8
Family Guy has undergone an unusual transformation process. In 11 years, it's gone from being a grab at The Simpsons, to being a grab at South Park, to finally becoming something truly unique and special. I thought season seven of Family Guy was a stand-out, and building on that, season eight may be the show's finest yet. The series has reached a point where character development normally begins to stagnate, yet Family Guy always seems open to exploring new relationships and aspects of it's cast. Seemingly at the moment a character begins to fall into regular patterns, or become mono-dimensional, Peter and company will tack on a much needed additional layer substance. The best examples this season were the expansion of Quagmire, the newfound disdain between he and Brian, and the taming of Lois' predictable "voice of reason." The highlight episode, and I think perhaps one of the ten best in the show's history, was "Brain and Stewie" which beautifully exemplified the complex, multifaceted relationship between the two. It's strange how Seth MacFarlane can manage to bring more humanity to a cartoon dog and baby, in-between poop jokes, than most modern dramas can when they're being deadly serious for 44 minutes. The show is also eager as ever to make fun of itself along the way, which is something it's predecessor The Simpsons could take a lesson from (no, one Bart-Man joke in ten years doesn't count has having a sense of humor about yourself.) This season was richly textured and laugh out loud funny. I'm really excited about round 9 of Family Guy.
Lost – Seasons 1-4
I'm trying to get over my anti-boner for shows which are a mainstream success. I know it's a bad habit, but it's not my fault I'm so hopelessly punk-rock. I'm approaching my 30s and I've come to realize that not everything HBO shits out in infallible, and not everything on network is The Biggest Loser. It's easy to clinically pick apart promising procedural dramas or subject myself to five painful season of Bones, but when something is touted as true television art and it doesn't have boobs or cusses, I'm hesitant. In truth though, Lost is probably the best television series since...
um.
Lost is possibly the best television series that's ever been. Had John From Cincinnati been given more time, then history would have unfolded differently, but it's hard to find anything else that even begins to encompass the depth or complexity of Lost... at least that didn't eventually wonder into the realm of hapless postmodern bullshit. I'm not going to actually give you a review of the show because that seems silly, given it's cultural impact and the fact that I have two season left, but if you haven't watched it, watch it, and if you won't, you're sort of an idiot.
The Cleveland Show – Season 1
Cute. A very nice little homage to 70s sitcom spin-offs with enough laughs to not make you regret watching it. It's the least strong of Fox's Sunday animation block, but it's a fitting enough replacement for King of the Hill until something better comes along.
Royal Pains – Season 1
I like Psych. I manage Burn Notice. I didn't need a combination of the two. Skip and/or Kill it with fire.
Archer – Season 1
Can't get back on the air fast enough. Adam Reed's boldly self-conscious drop-pause-egotism humor meets the golden pipes of H. Jon Benjamin. Nothing rewarding about the series from a storytelling or development standpoint, but unrealistically funny dialog, one-offs, and gags. Endlessly quotable.
NCIS: Los Angeles – Season 1
So far beyond derivative you might actually suffer brain-death if you try to watch more than one a day. This is why adults tell kids that TV is bad for them. ...poor LL Cool J.
CSI: Crime Scene Investigation – Season 10
Unexpectedly great and easily the best season in six years. Worthy of it's own full review, which I'll get to, hopefully. If, like me, you wrote the series off years and years ago, this is worth giving the franchise another shot.
Community – Season 1
Best sitcom in a decade. Will discuss further at a later date.
Futurama – Season "Six" ...so far.
The first episode was off. The second episode was a travesty unto the series. The third was... pretty good.
I'm torn so far.
Anyway, boosh, there ya go.
Now, I'm not big fan of racism or domestic abuse. Truth be told, I think they're both just crumby. But honestly, why would I, or anybody else, feel even a gram of emotion over this? Frankly the personal nature of the incident prevents it from even being a meltdown on par with that of Kramer-gate, which, if nothing else, took place publicly, and at people who, outside of maybe being rude, were minding their own business. I think it's become embarrassing stain on our society that we create a job market for this brand of shit-seeking. So we can be exposed to personal phone calls and wring our hands deciding if Mel needs to go to jail for his lady punching or rehab for his substance abuse problems. Substance abuse problems we've all determined must be present because WE heard twenty minutes of taped phone conversation featuring the drunken star of Maverick.
This holds especially true in the case of actors or other celebrities who's work doesn't carry a certain level of intimacy with the audience. Elliott Smith wrote songs about his life, and Mel fought marauders in a world devoid of gasoline, so I feel like I have a slightly better window into the life of the former. Does that mean I actually know any more about Elliott Smith? Maybe, but probably not.
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