I Miss Gogol Bordello!

Eugene Hütz has become somewhat of a sex symbol in his own right and rightfully so.

It was 2007, I was living in the East Village finishing up my miserable BA in Cinema Studies. My good friend Erin was always down to meet me at the local watering hole slash only place we ever met for drinks, the now closed Cooper 35 in Cooper Square  near the Bowery, and one of these nights we were talking music. I mentioned this band called Gogol Bordello which everyone in New York between 19 and 25 seemed to be in fervent love with. After about 5 or 6 whiskey sours, we decided we were going to walk, yes walk to the Lower East Side to this bar we'd always heard of but not yet had the balls to visit called Mehanata. The story was that it was a Bulgarian bar in existence for over 20 years and was basically the hub in which Gogol Bordello was born. 

Gogol Bordello, a band that fused authentic Eastern European gypsy folk songs with American punk rock. It's a good thing.

I made eyes with the door guy and he let us all in for free. We walked into a dim smokey bar playing Easter European fusion punk gypsy music. The air was illuminated with red tinted christmas lights and revealed a few strange New York City types sitting around, speaking Russian to each other with a bottle of Vodka at each table. We made our way to the bar and the bartender insisted that we drink Rakia, a kind of Bulgarian moonshine not even available in the states unless you bought it on the black market which they always did. It was delicious, and we got wasted in a matter of minutes. Then we went downstairs. 

Downstairs was a whole different animal. It felt like a seedy club. There was a DJ booth, and a few crystal balls from 1972. Strobe lights were the only source of light down there, and myself and Erin soon learned that we didn't have to walk all the way through people and up the stairs to the outside to chain smoke; our favorite activity. You could apparently do it on the back stairs whilst a drunk girl leans up against your knee and tells you you're beautiful. 

Eventually it started getting crowded and around 1am Erin and I decided that we needed fresh air to have a cigarette in (oh the fucking irony) and we shimmied our way through dancers and goosestepped our way over drunks until we were at the entrance. We lit up and talked about god knows what for a few minutes. All of a sudden, I see her eyes get extremely wide and her speech getting instantly slow. She seemed to be looking at something directly over my shoulder, and I was horrified at the thought that there might be a really tall ghost breathing just on the back of my neck. After a few seconds of drunken hesitation I turn around only to be shoved slightly into her direction (she was in front of me) and I felt bangles hit the small of my back. Before I had a chance to look and see what was behind me, a pair of large hands steadied me from behind and a soft voice spoke 'scuze me doorling', and I knew exactly who it was. 

Don't get too excited, I don't like Madonna, here's a still from her film Filth and Wisdom (2007) with Eugene Hutz who basically plays himself, and Gogol Bordello appears in the film as his character's band.

It was urban legend that Eugene Hütz, the charismatic, enigmatic and eccentric lead singer of Gogol Bordello still showed up to DJ at the bar that had made him famous, and all of a sudden, there he was, decked out in striped skinny jeans, a spangled gypsy scarf wrapped around his waste and that unmistakable handlebar mustache, bumping into me. I was stunned. It was up to par with a normal person bumping into I dont know...Brad Pitt. He was even more amazing in person. Around 6'3, with the most commanding presence, we immediately followed him in and basked in his presence at the bar, trying to non-chalantly stare at him. Neither of us had the nuts to talk to him, but we did end up dancing our asses off, and were at Mehanata every Saturday hence forth until I moved to to the Upper West Side when I began my Master's at Columbia (humblebrag!) and it was just too far to travel. I listened to them all day and all night for a good year after that experience until they stopped coming out with new music, and I'm just wondering two things, well three things; 1. Why have they not recorded a new album? 2. When can I come back to New York and go straight to Mehanata from JFK? 3. Miss Erin Kenealy, will you still come with me when I go? 

Here are some videos and clips, get into them, they're awesome! 

The first one is a video for their most famous song 'Start Wearing Purple' which was actually filmed right in Mehanata when the band was starting out and had no money, having to shoot at wherever they were welcome. 

Below is a trailer for a film that Zhenya (that's a casual way to refer to someone named Eugene in Russian btdubs) called 'Everything is Illuminated' (2005) and turns out he's a bloody good actor too. 

Below the trailer for 'Filth and Wisdom' (2008), where Hutz basically plays himself. 

The Gays Want All Your Babies

Andrew Rennells and Justin Bartha play dads-to-be in new comedy series The New Normal (2012) on NBC

 I was watching the aptly named The New Normal (2012 - ) on Hulu because I had woken up an hour and a half before I have to start getting ready for work (for the love of god why) and I was actually pleasantly surprised. Like most new comedy series, it has some big names (Ellen Barkin, Justin Bartha) and then a bunch of nobodies, building their career with television (Andrew Rannells, Georgia King). It concerns a gay couple who stumble upon a preggers lady who's kind of a quirky ditz because being at all like Zooey Deschanel is a fucking velvet goldmine these days, and decide they want the baby inside of her because they are desperately ready to be daddies...well, mommies who don't breastfeed. Hilarity ensues. Turns out the oven their using to cook their bun has got a conservative grandmother (oh snap!) who is not going to let a couple of Oscar Wilde reading, sweater-vest wearing, marathon knit-club presidents make her grandchild carrying their baby vote for Obama. When usually this is a tired comic ploy, the writers actually made it work pretty brilliantly when Jane (Ellen Barkin) accuses Bryan and David (Justin Barha and Andrew Rannells) that they don't even have any Afro-American friends, so to prove that they aren't hypocrites they have basically what can be referred to as Look-at-How-Many-African-American-Friends-We-Have party. They implore the only African-American person they know, one of their co-workers, to show up and bring her friends. She is played shockingly well by, wait for it...Nene Leaks of Real Housewives of Atlanta fame. If you're having trouble placing her, just think of some of the following catchphrases; 'I'm rich, bitch' and 'close ya legs to married men'. Got it now? But when she shows up at the party and all of her 'friends' are a bunch of white skinny bitches who probably had 'ambien sex with Tiger Woods', it creates quite an awkward situation.

film veteran Ellen Barkin and reality star Nene Leaks make surprisingly awesome additions to the cast.

This is catching unto the idea of gay couples becoming domesticated on television since Modern Family (2009 - ) began the trend a few years ago. While in th 90's it was taboo to even show a gay couple together on primetime, now television execs are taking it a step further and finally bringing us gay parents, albeit it seems like they are always male gay parents. I suppose it's assumed that gay males are naturally very maternal because of the stereotype that they're effeminate, but does that mean that if there was a show about lesbians raising a baby, there would be scenes of the child being strapped to the front of a motorcycle and trying on leather pants at the Baby Hot Topic?

Justin Bartha and Andrew Rannells do play characters somewhat similar to Mitch and Cam (Eric Stonestreet and Jesse Tyler-Ferguson) in that one is uptight and obsessive-compulsive, while the other is highly effeminate and sensitive, but the light somewhat sarcastic humor makes it work, even though they are constantly feeding into gay stereotypes like obsessions with gift-wrapping and frequent trips to the Farmer's Market.

Mitch (Jesse Tyler Ferguson) and Cam (Eric Stonestreet) are the prototypes who paved the way for domesticated gay couples on television with Modern Family.

This is just one in the growing trend of domesticated same-sex situation comedies. Another one along somewhat similar lines is Partners (2012) with David Krumholz and Michael Urie that premiered yesterday but is not quite as interesting. If you think about it, any show that follows this trend has something regarding this in the title MODERN Family, The NEW Normal, I guarantee the next one is going to have the phrase 'now-a-days' in it. It's a niche in TV that is working very well these days, and just like Will & Grace (1998 - 2006) had done almost 15 years ago, shows like The New Normal are helping tear down the remaining few taboos about the gay community, and doing it tastefully, sweetly, and comically. It's a good thing. 

Below, a promo. 

Best and Worst Dressed Emmys 2012

Yay! I get to be a bitch! My favorite thing. Expect the Worst Dress List to be really brutal. Let's get to it.

WORST: Lena Dunham in Prada. Oh Prada must be in crisis mode right now, the least this bitch could have done was stand up straight. Would that take away from her quirk too much? She's like a fat Zooey Deschanel.

BEST: Emily Van Camp in probably my favorite look of the night in this grey J. Mendel gown. It's so simple and so perfectly tailored to her, and grey always always always looks great on blondes.

WORST: This should have an 'absolute worst' catagory unto itself. Leslie Mann in a straight off the runway Naeem Khan dress. Looks great on a 6'2 model, and it is high fashion, but not at all awesome on the red carpet, and the color is gross.

BEST: Kat Jennings in an eye-catching Scarlett O'Hara-esque J. Mendel number. J. Mendel is like award crack. Everyone is obsessed with him, and this was absolutely the right choice for Kat, it accentuated her ahem, assets, and really spoke to her personality.

BEST: Kelly Osbourne is taking the Zac Posen trend and running with it, and why not he looks great on her! That color is fantastic, and she looks incredibly hot in it. Simple and elegant.

WORST: Nicole Kidman in Antonio Berardi. This dress is really strange and more dire as a fashion crime, it's boring, it also makes her look about two sizes bigger than she actually is.

WORST: Sarah Hyland in a custom made Marchesa. And it really does look like something a teenager would put together for their fake Twilight prom. Also looks like something Miley Cyrus would wear and that's never a compliment.

BEST: Amy Poehler looks stop-doing-everything-else-and-look-at-her in this plunging Stella McCartney gown, getting perhaps the best divorce revenge ever on ex-hubby Will Arnett.

WORST: Heidi Klum in an ill-fitting Alexandre Vauthier gown. I don't like this at all, the color is awful pale pastel, and it just doesn't fit her right and the shoes look like they are right out of an 80's fancy dress party. This is how you misfire at divorce revenge.

WORST: Jessica Lange can't find whom she was wearing but it sucked. She is far too old for no sleeves. I had nightmares.

BEST: Lucy Liu in this really cool, fashion risk of a dress by Versace. I know it's the one going to get the most press and I'd just like to throw my hat into the pro pile.

WORST: I love Monique Lhuillier but I hated this dress that Gennifer Goodwin wore. The hemline is strange, and it's just messy, it doesn't look refined and it's just a little too bright. This might be up to par with that other awful Monique Lhuillier dress Sarah Michelle Gellar wore last year to the Golden Globes.

BEST: Hayden Panatierre in this straight off the runway at fashion week Marchesa dress was absolutely stunning. It was a fashion risk, it was beautifully tailored and impeccably draped, interesting color combo. Win all around.

BEST: Mad Men star Jessica Pare in my favorite designer Jason Wu. I love this dress. that's all.

WORST: Jane Levy (who?) in Pamella Roland (again, who?). One word. Snoozefest.

WORST: Ok there was a trend with chartreuse mermaid dresses last year and I said a silent prayer that it would be over after that but Julie Bowen had to bring it back with this awful Monique Lhullier...thing.

BEST: This is how you properly rock chartreuse, and also dress appropriately for your age. Are you listening Jessica Lange and Julie Bowen? Julianne Moore in a classically beautiful Christian Dior. J'adore.

WORST: Lena Headey hurts my eyes in an OMG-what-the-fuck-is-that-that's-an-Armani-Prive??

WORST: Sofia Vergara in Zuhair Murad. I love this designer, but this color is hideous and she looks like she should be flipping letters on Wheel of Fortune slash a living incarnation of the Chryster Building

BEST: Tina Fey in Vivienne Westwood, a departure from her favorite Zac Posen, but she looks fantastic. I could not pick my jaw off the floor the whole time she was talking. It fits her like a glove.

WORST: Zooey Decschanel is no stranger to the worst dressed list, and this Reem Acra number is disastrous. The bottom half looks like set dressing for a middle school play version of The Little Mermaid, and the top half is about 3 sizes too small for her tits.

WORST: And lets finish on the lowest note ever and veteran of the worst dressed list, it's their champion January Jones who has been reading too much of Fifty Shades of Grey and watching too much Black Swan (2011). And it's a Zac Posen, this makes me sad. It's fucking hideous, and I'm not crazy about the goth make up either.

Madonna Can't Do Anything

Madonna's direction: Ok now kiss her but be really uncomfortable about it, and try way too hard...perfect.

I know I'm a little late on this sentiment, but here we go. What CAN Madonna do? Well she can sip tea, pretend she's Jewish and generally annoy us on any given day but that's about it. I don't care about her music, lets talk about her 'directing'. I finally sat down to watch W/E (2011) today because I've been on a masochistic streak of late and it was on Netflix Instant. I quite like Andrea Riseborough who plays the man trap Wallis Simpson who causes the biggest crisis in the British Monarchy before Princess Di and Prince Charles divorced. Now, rich white people problems are always fascinating, especially when they're in love. There's almost always a problem in the bedroom, whether someone's too kinky or not kinky enough, or someone is having an affair with a hat check girl or worse...someone who's nouveau riche. 

Either way, Madonna is always digging like a pig for truffles for that tiny glimmer of romance amongst an otherwise dull and drab story. Here's what basically happened. Edward VIII was a milquetoast do-nothing prince and heir to the British throne, terribly busy with throwing lavish dinner parties for society friends. Wallis Simpson was twice divorced poor white trash who eventually merited an invitation to meet the dilettante. After that they fell in love, the royal family hated her (of course, since when do they like people?) and forced Edward to abdicate his thrown, hence shit like The King's Speech (2011) was able to be made about his even less interesting brother.

Wallis and Edward on their wedding day.

The entire time I was watching it, I was thinking; 'If I see one more shot out of focus come into focus I'm going to seriously blow chunks' that's basically don't of Film School 101, and what the fuck is up with all the grainy handhelds? Like this is some gritty indie drama about junkies and prostitutes. Aesthetically this movie is such a fail, even though it desperately tries to convince us that Edward and Wallis were actually way more attractive than they actually were.

The story is all told through a young lady named Wally Wintrhop (Abbie Cornish) and we all know how much I love her. She's the only one really really trying in this film to make a silk purse out of a sow's ear, but it's to no avail. She plays a woman who like worked at Sotheby's at one point and now is disappointed in her marriage to a rich successful and handsome doctor (I mean, who wouldn't be?) so she frequents her old gallery where they just happen to be auctioning off the entire W/E collection. And then there's a subplot about her fucking a handsome Russian security guard for absolutely no reason at all, but that's to be expected when the screenplay is absolutely for shit.

If I glance through the view finder then it will appear as if I'm a real director.

Don't get me wrong, there is romance in this story, the actual story, all of which the film misses. There is nothing erotic, refined, or sensual the whole way through, it's so redundant and banal I ACTUALLY fell asleep...And then I woke up nauseous because there was another dreaded out-of-focus handheld I was waking up to, and The Sex Pistols' 'Pretty Vacant' was playing in a scene set in 1935. F to the AIL.

...Aaaaaand trailer. 

Fifty Shades of Fourth Wave Feminism

I haven't blogged in a while and I thought I'd return to my analytical deductive reasoning routes, but don't worry not too much so it won't be boring I swear. Ironically I feel comfortable in that arena considering how much I hated it with a passion. What is fourth wave feminism? There isn't such a thing, not on paper and in textbooks anyway, but it's definitely rearing it's head in our culture. To examine it, let's firstly quickly and efficiently define the first three waves. 

First Wave Feminism - dates back to before the turn of the century in what we call as the 'suffrage movement' when women campaigned among other things, primarily for the right to vote, and the right for equal pay, the right to wear pants, basically think of Lady Sybil from Downton Abbey (2011 - ) If you honestly didn't pay attention at all in high school.

A poster from 1911 from the Suffrage movement.

Second Wave Feminism - names like Gloria Steinhem and Simone de Beauvoir come to mind. It grew out of the counter culture movement of the 1960's particularly in the United States, when though there was dramatic apheaval against the status quo, government, and the powers that be, the opposition itself still functioned under 'men first' principles, so the women's movement grew out of that, demanding equal treatment in these cases, leading to the most profound advanced in women's rights which was the legalization of birth control, a campaign that had actually been fought for since the 1900's by anarchist Emma Goldman. But by Roe v. Wade, it had finally become a reality. 

Joan Baez and her sisters on an anti-draft poster from 1968.

Third Wave Feminism - primarily took place around the 1980's and died out just as quickly. It was by fart the most cantankerous, shocking, and militant movement out of the three which celebrated not only women being equal to men but women being superior and men being biologically unnecessary. This was of course the most radical view of the movement championed by Warhol hanger-on and general psychotic Valerie Solanas and her book the SCUM Manifesto (SCUM standing for Society for Cutting Up Men) which stated that men were a biological mistake that should be eradicated...so you get the idea. It was also centered around the idea of sexual politics and what became known as 'gender violence', explored in a lot of art during that time in particular 'The Vagina Monologues'; basically projecting that not only is a woman just as good as a man, but biologically and scientifically speaking, she was absolutely integral to the functionality of society. 

Valerie Solanas on the cover of her infamous book, first distributed underground then republished and now available at selected bookstores. BTW she was the one who shot Warhol.

Which brings me to Fourth Wave Feminism, even though it hasn't exactly been put on paper, there is movement creaking into pop-culture that could be defined as a new type of feminism. Though we believe all rights for women to be essentially won to us (ironically now they are being slowly and slowly taken away by the powers that want to be) but in terms of attitude we are averting the creative outlets significantly and turning them into powerful socio-political statements. In the media, this is becoming more and more transparent, particularly in television. Whereas there were shows that were about women that were written by men, now we have shows skewing the male gaze by writing about still successful women by women, and not just on Lifetime. Park and Recreation (2009 - ) is a perfect example. And let's just skip right on to what everyone expects me to talk about Fifty Shades of Grey, spawned from the wildly popular Twlight series, also written by a woman. With the addition of these two literary phenomenons to the scope of literature, we can consider both to be game changer, as poorly written as both were. Particularly with the latter, we can explore why we deem to call it 'feminist' at all considering the female character is the submissive in the relationship she's in and is forced into degrading and punishing situations every single day. If this book was released during the 80's at the height of the third wave it would be burned in effigy and considered deviant slander. These days, it's empowering. 

Women reading Fifty Shades of Grey in public, in a Walmart in fact.

Thousands of women are going on television saying that it saved their marriage, taught them how to be more assertive, and regain their libidos which had been lost in a sea of boring missionary sex and sub par orgasms. We can see Fifty Shades of Grey as being an empowerment manifesto for women not only to openly enjoy sex but to take control of what they want in the bed room, if it be handcuffs and chains so be it. It is the female equivalent of a man watching an old DVD out of his porn collection in the middle of the night in his basement, only it is empowering women to do it out on the open, devil-may-care. Thereby, it funnels the sexual power from the male to the female when it is read, though the story plays out in the opposite manner. As silly as it may be, Fifty Shades of Grey is a sexual game changer, and I don't mean just in the BDSM dichotomy, but in that of where the gender power and sexual prowess reaches a congruency, and for now, it seems as though women are on top...no pun intended. The book dictates that not only should women enjoy their orgasms but take pride in them. They should not be afraid to express their most unbridled desires and force their husbands into submission to them rather than the other way around. It's a shift in power that begins with popular culture and mimics itself in the art and media idioms. What's most important and vital to it's relevance is that it's controversial. While the third-wave feminists discouraged pleasure in sex in that it gave men the power in giving them pleasure, fourth wave dictates that pleasure should be embraced and harnessed (again no pun intended) by the woman. Once the movement loses it's cache, things will even out again as they always do, in fact there will probably be some kind of conservative backlash, as there usually is, that's why feminism always comes in waves.

Some clips below, basically for some comic relief.

Directors Who Date Actresses Way Out of Their League

With the pop-culture bombshell that is Kristen Stewart's affair with her Snow White and the Huntsman (2012) director Rupert Sanders, I've been wondering what is it about a backwards cap and a bullhorn that makes hot young actresses hiccup in their pants. But this is just one instance in a long line of strangely incongruent love affairs between filmmakers and their actresses. There's almost always huge age, height, and general hottness-factor differences, but apparently it's all an Oedipal mentor-like kind of dichotomy. In this case, it was worth giving up regular sex with Robert Pattinson, but this is a pattern in Hollywood that is seriously nothing new and is actually pretty par for the course. Here are some other examples of passionate love affairs in some cases leading to marriage between directors and actresses in their films that are way out of their league.

If you read my blog you know I hate on Kristen Stewart more than I write about Yul Brynner's junk...and that's a feat. But even I'm not above admitting she's one hot cookie. And clearly, way too hot for Rupert Sanders. She was already dating a scruffy, pseudo-hipster, brooding Brit...what the hell did she trade down for?

Yes, Orson Welles was the greatest genius of his and most lifetimes, and his voice was utterly hypnotic. But straight up, Rita Hayworth was potentially the most beautiful woman on the face of the earth...still is, I haven't found anyone to top her yet. So these two get a pass, somewhat. What's really nuts is that he ended up breaking up with her...then dying alone, miserable, unemployable, and drunk...so clearly he made the right choice.

In France, being 'attractive' is a relative term, and I'm sure in his heyday, Jean-Luc Godard was considered a fox...no I'm not, with him, it had to always have been about his originality and talent. But Anna Karina had to have the hindsight to know that it wouldn't work out. How long does it last with a pretentious and cynical French director? The answer is not very.

Milla Jovovich and Luc Besson will never ever...not ever make sense to me. He's so dull. And filmmaking-wise, he's a total one-trick pony. But we all make stupid mistakes when we're 20 right Milla? We just don't marry them.

This has to be my favorite. Otto Preminger and Dorothy Dandridge. He directed her in Carmen Jones (1954) and she fell head over heels in love with the strange, slightly creepy old fart. But turns out she was pretty mentally disturbed and had a losing streak with love so this was just another drop in the bucket.

This is slightly cheating as David O. Selznick was a producer rather than a director but he and Jennifer Jones definitely had a Svengali-like relationship and he advanced, scratch that; made her career basically. Also he ended up divorcing his wife Irene Mayer-Selznick who had basically kept him afloat while he was a young tough with no money trying to make it in Hollywood (her father was the legendary Louis B. Mayer so she was always swimming in it).

In all honesty, I would fall for Ingmar Bergman too. Have you ever seen an interview with him? No one on the planet more morose, suicidal, and death-obsessed, so clearly panty-dropping material, but if I was Liv Ullman, I'd go there. She definitely turned out the better for it. But to be fair, anyone who gets to bed Liv Ullman got the better bargain.

When Ingrid Bergman ran off with Roberto Rossellini and left her husband and young child, it was quite the incendiary story back in 1950. But any woman who can marry arguably one of the 10 best filmmakers of all time and still keep her iconic status as well as relevance in the cinema in her own right knows what she's doing.

I feel like the subtitle to this picture should be French sex-kitten marries king of all dorks Chess pro. But actually it's French sex-kitten marries French filmmaker. Roger Vadim has like the best track record for directing and then marrying hot young ladies...And I'm still not sure why! But none of which were more aesthetically pleasing than Brigitte Bardot. Bravo sir, Bravo!

Roman Polanski always had a way with the ladies...ok that's way wrong to say. Roman Polanski had a few tricks up his sleeve...nope, not that either. Basically there's no way of saying this with class, so I'll just say Roman Polanski is short, has a thick accent, and makes bizarrely haunting films that give everyone who sees them nightmares for the rest of their lives. Emmanuelle Seignier was a 20 year old 6-foot-tall French model (and as we know French models are better looking than your average run-of-the-mill human model). Alas, they have been happily married for 23 years and have two kids to show for it so more power to them. And it's nice that no one makes him stand on phone books in pictures next to her. Also I was just jesting, I love Polanski's films.

This is the classic story of young actress new to the film business auditions for big time director, young actress gets the part, young actress falls in love with big time Hollywood director and vice-versa, young actress marries big time director, takes his name, and gives up her career to be a wife to him and mother of his children. That's why most people have no idea who Christiane Kubrick is. Blink and you'll miss her in Paths of Glory (1957), but her scene is actually quite memorable. I can't imagine being married to Stanley Kubrick was any kind of cake walk, but they made it work so good for them.

Let's bookend this with another scandolous contemporary story and reverse it! Nothing has been more bizarre than the hook up and eventual marriage of filmmaker Sam Taylor-Wood and Aaron Johnson (now, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, yes he took her last name much like John 'Ono' Lennon whom he played in her film Nowhere Boy) But all creep factors aside...no I'm sorry this relationship is all creep factors to me. Not only is there a 20-year age gap, but he was 17 when they hooked up, and he's impregnated her twice in the last two years. I mean if he ever wants to sew his wild oats and actually finish up an adolecsents which she basically robbed him of, he's going to be in some serious shit because now there are kids involved. I'm sorry but I just can't get on board with those two, no matter how often both of them are screaming into any microphone that will listen that they are genuinely in love. Whatever.

Below are some clips.

Netflix Review: Varsity Blues (1999)

Aside from a football uniform, Scott Caan's basic wardrobe was his birthday suit and a cowboy hat to cover up his junk. In this scene, Tweeder steals a cop car and picks up a bunch of horny sophomores trying to help out his bro Mox (Beek) by trying to get him to join in the fun, how did I miss this in High School?

I was hanging out with a friend yesterday and we were trying to find something to watch on Netflix Instant. Lo and behold, one of their 'new releases' is that football sex teen drama from the 90's Varsity Blues (1999) Starring everyone's favorite Dawson, James 'The Beeks' Van Der Beek. It's one of those quintessential 90's teen films, and one of the first categorical 'MTV movies' to put style over substance, and create basically a 2-hour long music video out of a dismal unrealistic plot. But for chrissake is it fun to watch. 

The Beeks plays a young intellectual in the making Johnny Moxon who just happens to live in bumblefuck no-where, Texas and is pressured into a life that revolves around high school football games and Nuremberg Rally type upheaval over them. I really enjoy his V.O.'s throughout the film because I hate subtlety. In them he explains how in a small town in the Deep South, football is akin to fanatical religion and it's hard to speak out against it because everyone is always pressuring you to win and be the best.

Lots of bro-love in this movie.

Because he is the only one with more than two brain cells knocking against each other upstairs, he can't really maintain sympathy from his circle of friends which include All-State, star quarterback, blonde Greek god-like dumbfuck Lance Harbor (Paul Walker), hornier than shit wide-receiver (no pun intended) Charlie Tweeder (Scott Caan), and fatter than shit missing link Billy Bob (Ron Lester), also there's the token black guy who's name we don't learn until the last 10 minutes of the film, way to check all the 90's teen cliche boxes, Varsity Blues (1999). 

But even though the women in this film are all supporting players they steal the movie whole-sale. Even if you never snuck into a screening of it when it first came out as a teenager, you still remember one scene out of that film if nothing else; I don't even know why I have to tell you that it's the 'whipped cream scene'. Even when I say 'whipped cream scene' you can guess which film I'm talking about. It was such a landmark of the 90's, it's basically the OJ Simpson trial, Dolly the sheep, and the whipped cream scene from Varsity Blues (1999).

The most famous scene of the 90's.

Aside from a plot point being that everyone's Sex Ed teacher is actually a nasty, nasty stripper (oh the irony!), there's of course the storyline of Lance's girlfriend Darcy. Darcy (Ali Larter) tries to seduce Mox after her boyfriend Lance almost dies on the field with a knee injury so that she can still superglue herself to a man that's 'going places' and doesn't end up turning tricks at the truck stop. The way she does this is strip naked and put whipped cream on her lady parts. A feat that actually doesn't end up working but made for one hell of a celluloid moment. I can't tell you how I know this, but whipped cream doesn't actually work in that kind of situation, and even the filmmakers later admitted that they used shaving cream combined with mousse to create the makeshift bikini but that doesn't sound nearly as sexy, in fact it sounds poisonous.
Ali Larter was one of the few that ended up keeping her career after her adventures in dessert toppings. If you think about it, not many more survived MTV films of that era. I mean, Paul Walker has all of the Fast and Furious films but that's something I don't think you EVER put on your resume, 625 million at the box office or no 625 million at the box office.

All in all, the film is quite exclusively shit, but it did teach me a few things. 1. Sports always looks more interesting when there's Foo Fighters playing. 2. What tight end does (again, no pun intended) 3. When in doubt, whipped cream bikini. If you want the man of your dreams, whipped cream bikini. If you are little more than a gimmick, whipped cream bikini. If you don't have a script and need filler, whipped cream bikini. If close to death from malnutrition and all you have left in your refrigerator is whipped cream, whipped cream bikini. 4. Scott Caan has a really nice ass. So for those life lessons and more, thank you, Varsity Blues.

Below, some clips. Catch it on Instant. It's not Braveheart (which is also recently on Instant) but it's catchy in that special stupid way, and there's naked people in it. Also, really good 90's-aesthetic steady-cam sport montages to popular music.