The Sociopolitics of OITNB Season 4 (Spoilers, duh!)

Last shot of the season. Perhaps the most gut-wrenching ending ever. If you're like me, you choose to believe that Poussey's New York adventure was a beautiful limbo that she'll live forever. 

Unless you've been in a cave or are pathetic human being (yeah I said it) you've binged the 4th season by now of the Netflix juggernaut Orange is the New Black. I've been waiting to write about it for a while because unlike most, I care about not spoiling shit for people. As the show usually ends on a cliffhanger, I thought people would be more careful about that, especially because this season was perhaps the most gut-wrenching and as Kate Mulgrew (Galina Reznikov) said on Good Morning America 'excruciating' season to film. And that's coming from a cast member who knew...imagine how it was for us. 

Class structure and institutionalized racism take front and center seats this season, where Litchfield becomes a microcosm of the hypocrisy we live in 

I'd like to talk about something I at first considered to be Easter eggs of socio-politics, but lets face it; they were front and center this season. Let's backtrack to a few of them. Some of my favorite ones that were so hilarious and painful at the same time were amazing as commentary about the world that has completely gone to shit, from the mind of Jenji Kohan. When we finally find out why Suzanne 'Crazy Eyes' Warren is serving time at Litchfield, we start with her working merrily at a Costco-type warehouse. There's a receipt she checks and it goes something like this 'mayonnaise, orange juice, ASSAULT WEAPON' ok have a nice day!' 

Chapman has to suffer some serious consequences for inadvertently creating a prison gang full of white supremacists. Absolute power corrupts absolutely, and in prison, they will brand a swastika on you without hesitation. 

Sensitive topic? Most definitely, but poking a stick at how ridiculous it is that people can purchase assault rifles in this country is brilliant commentary, especially considering what just happened in Orlando. It's about time SOMEONE addressed it, because it's clearly being overlooked (save for the congress filibuster). Something else that sticks in your craw like an uncomfortable zit that's in the weird part of your back was when a CO mentions that she knows about 'extraction techniques'...yeah, she's a torturer, a lot of them are. The Abu Graib parallel was so apparent this season; like when a CO asks Blanca to stand on a table which she does for days. I think someone even says that its 'a bit Abu Graib' but let's face it; the new CO's are former vets with shiny faces that used to be torturers...thanks Bush Regime. 

We see institutionalized racism so much during this season. The fact that a huge conglomerate of new inmates that are stuffed into Litchfield are all from the DR basically gives credence to the fact that the system has been doing that for years. For every white person locked up, there's 10 people of color. Think about that, don't want to? Ok. 

CO Coates tries to explain to his rape victim that he didn't see it that way. Guess what, doesn't matter. And you have to wear that rape badge the rest of your life. And rightfully so.

Well anyway, if you're a girl especially, you followed the whole Stanford rape fiasco, where a dipshit judge gave a Stanford swim star 6 months for a violent rape where there were witnesses? 3 months with good behavior? How shitty is that sweaty turd to swallow? Rape is rape, and that's something that couldn't be clearer. Remember last season when Pennsatucky (Taryn Manning) was brutally raped by CO Coates? We didn't see it coming, in fact I'm sure some of us hopeless romantics thought that they might actually get together a la Daya and CO Bennett, and then he rapes her. Horrifying. In this season, it's made apparent that CO Coates like for real didn't understand that what he did was rape. Rape is rape bro. He's not an idiot, probably a bit on the dumb side, but I'm sorry, he's a rapist. Just as Big Boo (Lea DeLaria) said; there's no forgiving that. Pennsatucky eventually does forgives him, but to her, and to basically everyone with a pulse, he'll always be a rapist, dumb or not. 

A peaceful protest is met with abhorrent violence. It doesn't just happen in the world of fiction people. 

On to the next and most excruciating thing ever, of all time...not just on OINTB. When Poussey Washington (Samira Wiley), an audience favorite gets killed. What starts out as a peaceful stick-it-to-the-man protest where the entire prison population stand up on their tables in the cafeteria, Dead Poets Society style, demanding that the captain (Piscatella) resign. CO Piscatella is a misogynist, sadist, and all around monster. Instead of doing the rational thing which would be oh I don't know, anything except for what he ends up doing, he brings the close of the season to the most egregious end imaginable. He calls in the rest of the staff to forcefully take down the inmates. CO Bailey, a boyish dimwit that looks like he wouldn't hurt a fly, ends up being responsible for the worst thing to happen on that show to date. Mirroring the Black Lives Matter movement, he accidentally murders Poussey by jamming his knee into her back, effectively cutting off air to her lungs. That was a scene that stays with you like whatever scene from whatever film still makes you cry just by thinking about it. It was cataclysmic, especially because most of the cast didn't even know what was going to happen until they shot it. 

Poussey's death scene. I still can't get it out of my head and probably won't for a while. It's not just that she was a 'fan favorite'; this was an indictment of every single time a person of color was murdered in cold blood and the perpetrator got away with it in the end. 

Taystee (Danielle Brooks), Poussey's BFF, who works as the secretary to prison warden Caputo, overhears his statement to the public where he decides not to reprimand CO Bailey. Outraged, she launches a full on protest at Litchfield. 'They didn't even say her name!' she screams, rallying the rest of the inmates to follow her. The greatest injustice just happened, and all the higher-ups can think about is how to play it to the media. If that's not a full-on retrospect on the truth, I don't know what is. Her greatest line, which I believe sums up the gravity of the situation, is when Caputo says he's sorry for her loss, to which she retorts; 'I'm tired of people calling it my loss like it was my 100-year-old granny that croaked instead of cold-blooded murder'. There you go folks. There ain't no justice in the world, and especially now that the world is basically on fire. And as long as people in positions of power are only concerned with is how to spin it to make themselves look good in the face of a horrific injustice, innocent people will continue to die, and the disenfranchised will continue to suffer. Was that too dark? Well, it's supposed to be. Here's to Jenji and her chrome-plated balls for addressing all of it so blatantly and with such pathos that it broke all of our hearts. This is what makes Orange is the New Black more than just a fun binge-watching session on Netflix. The towering statements it makes are brilliant, and they are not crammed down the audience's throat because someone on that team studied literally devices. I have respect for a lot of what the show brings to the front, but what I respect the most is how unapologetic and brutally honest it is. Time and time again, that's the art that stands head and shoulders above the rest, that touches the heart, and doesn't care if it hurts, because it's supposed to. 

Trailer for Season 4 below: 

Blood, Sex, and Jessica Lange: The Beauty of American Horror Story

Scariest nun Meryl Streep in Doubt

I know I’m way late coming into this, but I really only binge watch shows these days because my weekends are loads of fun spent spooning my dog and streaming Netflix. I don’t watch shows one by one on TV like some chump. And since Netflix started streaming American Horror Story, I finally had something beside Lost re-runs or desperately trying to pay attention to the turd waffle that is TURN. I love to be scared ergo I avoided shows like that because I’m thinking; ‘how terrifying could it be, it’s on television?’ turns out VERY. I’m a full on addict and on the third season. Yay! My life is awesome!

I was always intrigued by the series considering it stars so many reputable actors including a number of Oscar winners; Kathy Bates, Jessica Lange, Gabourey Sidibe, Joseph Fiennes, Frances Conroy, I mean how bad could it be if the biggest names in Hollywood are flocking to it like a moth to a flame?

The premise is awesome. Making a show like this, you have to ask yourself, how do we keep this consistently terrifying in a TV format? We’re not Alfred Hitchcock. So here’s what the creators did; every season takes place in a different place and time and under different circumstances recycling the main cast into new roles. It’s bizarre but it totally works. Every season has a subtitle. The first one is ‘Murder House’ which takes place in a heavily haunted house in Los Angeles that an unassuming family moves into.

Don't mess with the Lange. She's a witch.

The second season is subtitled; ‘Asylum’, the third is ‘Coven’, you get the idea. Asylum takes place in the 60’s, while Coven is set in New Orleans, but what’s consistent (perhaps the only consistency) are the actors even though every season they play different characters.

Let’s move on to what we find scary. Me personally? I hate blood and guts, that’s not at all frightening to me, it’s gross more than anything else. I love suspense. Dark corners, unexplained noises, moving shadows…you get the idea. American Horror Story utilizes both. It is not for those with a weak stomach. It’s pretty damn gory. It’s also surprisingly very blatantly sexual. It doesn’t shy away from any extremities. There are severed heads, buckets of blood, naked men, a lot of simulated sex…basically everything that you wouldn’t expect to see on TV.

Another regular on the show is fabulous actress Sarah Paulson. I heard in Freakshow she has two heads. I don't know why or how, I just want to see it damn it. My god, what have I turned into?

Of all the bright spots and innovation of this series, I’ll have to give the gold medal to Jessica Lange on this one. She’s absolutely fabulous and this completely resurrected her career. She’s played a controlling Southern Belle, a lunatic nun, the head of a witches’ coven, and she’s unbelievable. She’s so frightening and enticing at the same time. Having her front and center every season was a very smart move. Also, at this point we know that basically every kind of story has already been told, to the point where we find ‘found footage’ horror movies actually interesting…ugh. Ergo, the show strives to be as outlandish as possible. It’s hard to believe in its campiness but it’s delicious. I’m more titillated than terrified and can watch it with the lights off…as I said my dog is usually there. Dear Netflix, please start streaming the 4^th season; American Horror Story: Freak Show so I can get caught up for the 5^th season. I only have like 2 weeks before it’s premiere and I can’t wait to see what you’re going to do with Lady Gaga.

Below, trailer for Hotel...

Below, trailer for Coven, the season I'm currently on and my favorite so far. 

We Only Said Goodbye With Words

Amy in her element, beautiful and in charge. 

Last week, I went to see the much talked about documentary on the recently departed Amy Winehouse, simply titled AMY. Directed by esteemed documentarian Asif Kapadia, I was really hesitant and also extremely excited. To tell a story like Amy's is something usually reserved for a VH1 Behind the Music special. But with docs taking center stage of late and Kurt Cobain: A Montage of Heck being hailed as one of the best retrospectives on the icon ever, I was optimistic that it would be more than just the rise and fall of a shooting star that gave us so much and left us too soon. 

I didn't want the cheap force-crying tricks that come with documenting a story of a troubled yet vastly talented public figure whom we uncover as having a self-destructive streak peppered with personal demons blah blah blah...blah. No, it's not that at all. Kapadia painted a portrait of Amy as something more than just a girl gifted from the universe with one of the most unique voices and a self-destructive streak that rivals Cobain's. This was a new breed of documentary. It was simply put, the story of one's life, it just so happens that it was tragic story, and the life was that of a public figure. I don't remember the last time I cried at a movie much less cried throughout, and I'm not exaggerating. Every time Amy sang in archival footage I was bawling to the point where people around me were side-eyeing me to death. I didn't care. I was hit right in the gut with this one. 

Younger and healthier Amy, always writing, always making music. 

There are two ways to tell Amy's story; both of them cop outs. Amy the singer or Amy the addict. This was neither of these. Of course you can't have a documentary without either of those elements, but more than anything else, this was Amy the girl. And though it was told through many people close to her; her manager, her father (the scumbag), her ex-husband (the even bigger scumbag), her best friend, and others as well as through her own words, the most powerful way her story is told is through her songs. We all bought 'Back to Black' upon release in 2007, but hearing those very familiar songs again in this context was a flooring experience. I don't think I'll ever be able to listen to the album the same way again. 

Amy with then-husband Blake Fielder-Civil, whom many blame for Amy's rapid deterioration. I don't disagree, there were a lot of people that were not only bad influences but were leeches basically in her life, and he was definitely predominantly the worst one.  

I did some research (well, barely the minimum on Google) but turns out, just a month into the film's release, it's already one of the most successful documentaries ever released, it's almost hit the mark that An Inconvenient Truth is at, and it's no surprise. Here's the thing, and this is why I keep comparing her to Cobain (who also recently had a doc that came out about him). She was incredibly public. Her ups and downs (mostly downs) were splattered across front pages like we've never seen. Second to Britney Spears she was probably followed, chased, and photographed more than anyone else. We saw her with her eye make up smeared all over her face, with blood on her neck, with torn up shoes, we even saw her with drugs in her hands, and we always saw her drink. This was someone not trying to conceal anything, and yet this was someone who (as the documentary says) was trying to disappear. And we wouldn't let her. 

It's one of those 'we all know what happens in the end' films, but who cares? Like anything else, we still crave answers as to why, and the beauty of this documentary is that it doesn't give you answers. It gives you the circumstances and lets you figure it out for your damn self, because it treats you like a smart person who can put shit together on their own. 

Beautiful portrait of Amy utilized for marketing of the documentary.

We all knew where we were July 23rd, 2011 (I was in an Apple store getting my phone screen fixed jebus), and it's not like the world would never be the same after that. We kind of all expected it. Amy was a time-bomb. It wasn't a crushing blow like the death of Robin Williams, or even Whitney Houston. We don't want to admit it but during her life, we all kind of thought; well someone that is THAT self-destructive is not going to last long and she didn't publicly show any signs of getting better, in fact her condition deteriorated. I'd like to think she was more like Edie Sedgwick than any rock god in the '27 club'. She's a person we were and still are absolutely fascinated with, and we all wanted a piece of her. She died quietly when her demons finally got the better of her, and who knows what she would have been capable of later in life had it not been cut off so abruptly. I think her idol; Tony Bennett put it best in the doc when he said; 'If I could, I would tell her 'slow down, you are too important'. I couldn't even write that without welling up (full disclosure). When you hopefully go in to watch the film after reading this blog post, know that it's not the story of someone's personal or professional life, although that's part of the content. It's about the music she gifted us with, and the soul from whence it came (god that sounds pretentious). Amy herself put it best; 'I'm not a girl trying to be a star...I'm just a girl who sings'. Playing now, please see it. And please have a good cry. 

Below, trailer, and some clips of her. 

Is It Just Me Or Has Sherlock Lost It's Flair?

Sherlock awkward at weddings? Well that's an obvious 'duh'.

Sherlock used to be the most exciting show that damn near ever aired on this or any side of the pond. It made Benedict Cumberbatch a household name, as difficult as that name was to pronounce and launched a revolution in people picking up books again (and no 'The Hunger Games', and 'The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo' don't count) I mean real books by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle who created a character that seemingly lives forever. But now, after it's third season finished, I've noticed that there's a lot different and not in the good way. Cast is still there and all, but it's no longer the Sherlock Holmes show...it's turned into some ubiquitous Dr. John Watson love-special with crime happening in the background and far too many camera tricks to compensate for lack of content. 

Paul McGuigan, the visionary behind re-appropriating Sherlock for a modern audience in a modern setting.

The two genius creators and Sherlock uber-dorks Mark Gatiss (who doubles as Sherlock's brother Mycroft on the show) and Steven Moffat still serve as writers, but now they have copycat directors all trying to be the creative genius that is Paul McGuigan who directed 4 out of 6 episodes of the first two seasons. The four best ones I might add. There was a magic to Paul. He understood that 'appropriation' doesn't have to be a bastardization...a lesson Baz Lhurmann has yet to learn and re-envisioned the cannon of Sherlock Holmes that absolutely worked for a modern audience. Under his direction, the show, as different in aesthetic as it was to the original matertial maintained a level of integrity particularly within the obtuse and superhuman character of Sherlock Holmes.

John Watson's wedding...you know, who cares? It might as well have been something spoken about between the two protagonists in the past tense to save time.

The first episode of the third season was...not bad. It was basically back tracking to the cliffhanger of the last episode of season 2 where Sherlock 'dies' but we all know he doesn't and had to sit twiddling our thumbs for a fucking year and a half waiting for them to finally explain how the FUCK he managed to trick every motherfucker on the planet...including John Watson I might add. So that was fun to watch, a string of reveals, all of them seemingly plausible at first, but then we realize how, I'm not going to give it away but obviously we know Sherlock couldn't die because they had announced the renewal of the show for two more seasons even before that episode aired, and quite honestly it wasn't that important. But from that episode I already knew, they had switched protagonists. And don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with John Watson, he's a cool dude, a bit of an uptight white guy type, but not nearly as interesting, funny, witty, sexy, etc. as Sherlock Holmes, and to be fair, the show as well as the Arthur Conan Doyle cannon are named after him, and don't even include Watson's name in the title. 

Another character that has really stepped into her own this season is Molly Hooper (Louise Brealey) She's really becoming the Peggy to Sherlock's Don Draper. She's been much more involved and more influential in his life and that's actually paid off.

The second episode is of course also based on one of the original stories, but Gatiss and Moffat already exhausted the 'Big 3' (The Woman, the Dog, and the Professor) in the second season, so all that's left is scraps, and what they lack in content they have to improvise in irrelevant stories like John Watson's marriage to Mary...and by that point it's like...whatever. Detective Inspector LeStrade (Rupert Graves) gets an 'emergency text' from Sherlock and what he finds out is that Sherlock is perturbed on how to write a best man speech for the wedding...really? That's all well and good for light comedy, but the wedding itself takes up more than half the episode. 

Here's to Season 3 not sucking as much as it appears to be.

The rest is the actual investigation, which is also a bit dull to say the least. I was not impressed. And granted, I haven't yet seen the third and final episode in the series but all in all I'm not to excited about it. I keep turning it on before I hit the hay and end up falling asleep. I have never fallen asleep on a Sherlock episode, not ever, doesn't matter if I just put in the hardest day of my life, it's usually that engrossing. So perhaps I'm going a bit hard on this series as it is now. Because I expect more from it. To me, it's been the best show not only of its genre, but of anything we've seen in a long time. It was big news when it was announced that McGuigan would not return to direct Season 3, and it shows. Maybe they can redeem themselves with season 4, but we'll have to wait a while to see about that. I really hope they rehire McGuigan and pump life into something that's seemingly dead in the water as it were.

My favorite Music Videos (No Particular Order)

Smashing Pumkins' 'Tonight, Tonight' (dir. Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris), 1996. A very literal nod to the cinematic trend in music videos that had taken over around that time by basically recreating the Melies film; A Voyage to the Moon (1902).

Red Hot Chili Peppers' 'Dani California' (dir. Tony Kaye), 2006. What a tribute to rock 'n roll trends. No snark here.

Miley Cyrus' 'Wrecking Ball' (dir. Terry Richardson), 2013. I had to...don't you dare judge me...I know I can't look at myself in the mirror either...I know Terry's awful...yes I heard about the allegations...yes all of them...No I do not excuse nor condone them...yes this video is shot beautifully.

Fiona Apple's 'Criminal' (dir. Mark Romanek), 1997. She has a wonderful been-dead-for-a-few-days look about her. Romanek later went on to direct One Hour Photo (2004).

The Verve's 'Bitter Sweet Symphony' (dir. Walter A. Stern) 1997. None of this was staged. Lead singer Richard Ashcroft was asked to purposely bump into people as hard as he could.

R.E.M's 'Losing My Religion' (dir. Tarsem Singh), 1991. A great eclectic recreation of Renaissance art, Soviet propaganda posters, and Michael Stipe's indescribable dance moves.

Lauryn Hill's 'Doo Wop (That Thing)' (dir. Big TV!) 1999. I was beyond in love with this song and this video. Can't believe she stopped making music after that.

Justin Timberlake's 'Cry Me a River' (dir. Francis Lawrence), 2002. The ultimate indictment-of-a-cheating-lover public statement ever. And it's so sexy don't we all wish we had a music video like that to our name?

FatBoy Slim's 'Praise You' (dir.  Spike Jonze), 1999. High concept, high art, really really original and hilarious stuff. We all know what Spike Jonze as the delightfully dorky and slightly unhinged filmmaker of such critical darlings as Being John Malkovich (1999), this was a first glimpse into his particular brand of self-effacing humor.

And finally...

Lady Gaga's 'Bad Romance' (dir. again, Francis Lawrence), 2009. Because most of my friends will have a fit if they don't find this on the list, and quite honestly it's awesome. What can I say? I'm a little monster.

Why Spring Breakers is the Best Film of The Year and Deserves an Oscar

Let's get shit straight. I've seen almost all of the big contenders for this year's Oscars, and I know that Spring Breakers (2013) is so goddamn controversial it won't even be nominated for the bullshit MTV Movie Awards, but you know what? In 1969 Midnight Cowboy won Best Picture, and it was Rated X, back when they had a 'Rated X' title and not a bullcrap NC-17 title. 

Remember a time when a film about a man-whore and a drug dealer won Best Picture? Me neither.

Yes, 12 Years a Slave (2013) is a masterpiece and if you read my blog you know I sing its praises, but for crap's sake people, if you look back on what defined our culture of the past year, Spring Breakers has got to be in there. It basically encapsulated not only our sad state as idiots in limbo in an unforgiving world in the midst of a financial crisis, war, and recession, but also basically touched on what that has reduced us to as human beings. And it does it in such a profound and unapolagetic bite-your-tongue and slap-your-cheek way that it's impossible to overlook it's relevance. 

All of the 'against-type casting was genius, we all knew Franco would jump on the bandwagon, but it was surprising to see Disney moguls like Hudgens and Gomez partake, I guess they're smarter than we thought.

Yes, 12 Years a Slave is a history peice full to the brim of great performances so it will probably take home the top honors, and Spring Breakers won't even be looked at seriously because it's cynical, full of transgression, nudity, and hedonism, (all of which the Academy frowns upon) but mostly I believe that it will be ignored because it's a blatant spit in the face/middle finger to society and all of the 'social norms' that we accept in order to convince ourselves that we are good people when we are soooooo not. There is no redemption, ascention, or even any kind of forgiveness to this movie. It's brutal, farcical, and violent as fuck. At least with 12 Years, while being violent as fuck as well, it portrays the violence as if to say; hey remember white people, this is something that actually happened. In Spring Breakers, the violence comes from a totally unnecessary and non-sensical place. It's violence for the sake of violence, and that is something that we as a society can't understand, so why should we expect the Academy to? 

My favorite contemporary filmmaking genius, yes above Aronofksy, Fincher, Cuaron, Bigelow etc. An auteur among pretenders. 

But here's the thing, it fucking happens all the time, and it's incomparably painful. Harmony Korine in all of his genius is utilizing every aspect that defines our stupid contemporary culture to bring it to it's massive decaying zenith and throwing it back into your face as if to say 'this is all that's left of you, pathetic morons' and he does it so effortlessly and subliminally that yes, he deserves not only an Oscar but a fucking parade in his honor. Why? Because he's the only one brave to do so. His films never end on a high note, they always end with people walking out going '...why' and then having a few shots and reflecting on it thinking 'fuck, we really ARE that horrible as a species'. 

He doesn't give you any answers...much like Spike Lee always refused to, and do you know why? Because some times in life there are no fucking answers ok people? Sometimes we all do stupid shit and get into trouble for the bad choices we make, and no one is responsible for it but ourselves. Some times we don't win, and some times we don't triumph, and sometimes life is shit until the bitter end. But the genius of Korine reminds us that until we get to that bitter end there are some absolutely fucking amazing moments that though irrational, we know we all have in ourselves to act upon and that's what's so goddamn scary. And...that's exactly why the Academy won't give him shit this year. They will never admit that they are not the classy, robustly moral, paragons of this brave new world, when we all know that of course they are not, and neither are we. So all I can really say is; Thank you, Harmony, don't ever stop pushing our hypocrisies right back into our stupid bloated faces until we choke on it like we deserve to. Thank you sir.

Trailer below.

Spotlight on: Gareth Pugh

Gareth Pugh, a quite genius and fashion prodigy

Now that the grand innovator and genuine artiste Alexander McQueen is no more and Sarah Burton is basically butchering his legacy by dumbing down the fashions until it's not haute couture but something your grammy wore that now belongs in a consignment shop, it's time to look for that other British bad-boy designer who is going to revolutionize the industry and hopefully take enormous risks with an effortless fearlessness that makes us all stand up and take notice.

for inspiration, Pugh works with themes like cubism, bondage, and the Avant-Garde

 British fashion never had a Jean Paul Gaultier, or a John Galiano, or a Betsy Johnson, but they did have iconoclasts like Vivienne Westwood and Alexander McQueen who threw Burberry's tweeds and stripes right back into their face with their innovative designs and devil-may-care aesthetic. Now there's another bad boy of textile on the British scene who is setting the stage to bring the Brits back to the forefront of high fashion. 

a dress made completely out of safety pins, a nod no doubt to Vivienne Westwood. 

His name is Gareth Pugh, he's barely out of his early 20's and is killing it in every piece of clothing he lets walk the runway. His themes include androgyny, bondage, S&M, and what looks like every German Avant-Garde film from the 30's  I've ever seen. Every one of his models looks like walking art and he is now being recognized by the likes of Lady Gaga (of course), Beyonce, Rihanna, and others. He is truly a force to be reckoned with considering 30 years ago, his clothes wouldn't even be legal. 

Walking art. Don't  you wish your man dressed like this? Well, every once in a while. It's like a viking and  a pterodactyl went to an S&M bar together.

He invented the concept of inflatable clothing and yeah you might not wear it to the office on a Tuesday, but damn isn't that interesting. He's restored art back into fashion, and fashion back into the general folds of entertainment. He's shocking, outlandish, and creative, as well as being a completely genuine article. 

Gareth's now famous inflatable clothing line. 

I believe that his contribution to the British fashion idiom is as important as that of Vivienne Westwood who with a few safety pins and inline zippers completely changed the look of the whole country 30 years ago. Gareth Pugh is doing the same now. To look at his designs and think 'that's too much' is exactly what he's going for and I think that Alexander McQueen were he around today would be proud, not to mention extremely jealous. 

Dear J.J. Abrams: Bring Back Lost!

The cast of Lost, most of them household names because of the series

I know you are circling heaven in Richard Branson's spaceship right now with your movie career but let's admit it, your crowning achievement and what they will probably engrave on your tombstone is: Here Lies J.J. Abrams, creator of Lost (2004 - 2010). Now, let's give credit where credit is due, although you were the co-creator and exec producer we all know who the two people were that made Lost basically the best thing to happen to television ever, since perhaps the Twlight Zone and Doctor Who (in the TV Sci-Fi cannon at least); Carlton Cuse and Damon Lindelof.

Cuse and Lindelof, the masterminds behind Lost

Save for the 6th season, Lost is a show that you seriously marathon until your mind is muddled with all kinds of questions and no answers and yet you still can't get enough, as far as human brains are concerned it's probably up to par with black tar heroin (not like I know) but everything else, Battlestar Gallactica, Fringe, and non-sci-fi shows have been more or less incomparable.

To this day, if I'm feeling down, I'll go to my Netflix queue for a good old Lost episode (from Season 3 preferably, because that's the best one in my opinion) and settle in for some seriously weird shit that I enjoy immeasurably, even though I can probably recite it as a one woman show verbatim, though that would be slightly weird. 

Promo still for the 6th season, which admittedly was extremely bad because the writers had basically written themselves into corners and realized they had to end a show quickly and had left too many doors opened.

It was the first show to have it's own Wiki page (Lostpedia), and the formula of having a cast of over 20 principal characters and more questions than answers worked like a charm. Even people resistant to the franchise got addicted after the first sweet hit of that meticulously woven web of Polar bears, four-toed statues, hatches, and hot, sweaty, and tan people stranded on a mysterious island.

Admit it, you miss it. And it's unfair that it can't go on forever just because actors wants to 'focus on their careers or whatever' I would be more than happy to cuddle up with a never-ending array of crazy and inexplicable occurrences that I would never believe can actually happen and are only appropriate in this idiom. In my opinion, at least in this genre, nothing has been as good before or since and I bloody well miss it. So, J. J., please I'm begging you, send the entire crew back to Hawaii, and resume principal photography.

This is basically how I watched Lost

Trailer for Season 1. Oh the memories.

Ode to Joan Crawford

As some of you know, I'm writing a play about Joan Crawford, not particularly to dislodge all of the 'wire hangers' rumors or discredit her daughter Christina's novel 'Mommie Dearest' which for all of it's sincerity was highly and almost comically sensationalized. 

I want (for some reason) to help people know and appreciate Crawford for who she was, and that was the 'ultimate movie star'. I'm sure that when the term was being coined, she was whom they thought of first. Not only was she a consummate professional studying constantly, taking allocation lessons, losing and gaining weight for roles before it was a thing, and even know which eye to cry out of when she needed to for a scene, but as an iconic figure head of old Hollywood, she's one of the most recognizable. She only won one Oscar, but had always stuck to her guns. She played the game until she could play it by her own rules and that's what makes her unique. 

Joan Crawford the flapper under contract at MGM

Aside from the alcoholism, obsessive behavior, abusiveness, chronic infidelities and other personal bullshit, Joan was a true professional, and completely focused, which is exactly how she became what she became. All that other stuff lead to her eventual downfall, but if anyone had a good run and fought the good fight it was her. 

Although she was married four times, she said that the love of her life was ultimately someone she never exchanged vows with; the very Catholic-bound to his marriage Clark Gable. They were too much alike, both from poor obscure families who came to Hollywood when no one would take them seriously and people had to fish their headshots out of the extras pile. They never gave up and before they knew it they were Hollywood gods, having quickies in dressing rooms between takes. They did 5 films together, but the relationship unfortunately dissolved. Gable's wife wouldn't give him a divorce and Joan was too obsessed with herself to care. 

Joan and Gable always had great chemistry on film. Wasn't hard when the two were in love behind the cameras as well.

Here's another thing you might not have known, Joan was bisexual. One of her most famous conquests was Marilyn Monroe, 22 years her junior, whom she incessantly hit on usually in a drunken stupor when Marilyn would spend the night at her Brentwood mansion, and for some reason Marilyn eventually decided to reject her advances, perhaps because she was not her type, or perhaps because Joan was kind of scary at that point, who knows. Anyway, can you only imagine how hot that would be? 

I love Joan because she adapted to every single thing asked of her. She started in Hollywood as a contracted dancer, not an actress, and appeared as a chorus extra in mid-level films where she was nearly unrecognizable. But with limitless drive and determination she learned everything about the business and made friends with the right people until she was number one on her studio boss' L.B. Mayer's list for his next projects. By the time she had achieved that, she had come into what people like to refer to as her 'face' that very recognizable look of the giant eyes, exaggerated eye-brows, and those crazy lips which Max Factor invented calling it 'the smear'. By the time she was declared box-office poison from playing too many shop girls who make good but still manage to wear designer gowns, she decided to keep fighting and told her boss L.B. 'no more goddamn shopgirls'. After that they fought over parts and she was one of the first to move out of her studio and fly solo. Back then, a hugely risky move, but it payed off because rival to MGM (where she got her start), Warner Bros. was inclined to hire her for a little project sitting on the shelf for two years called Mildred Pierce (1945) which one her her first and only Academy Award. 

Joan Crawford still gorgeous in her 40's in Mildred Pierce (1945)

At that point, she was close to mid-40's herself, a battle year for any actress, but she decided to reinvent herself again; had her teeth recapped, cut her hair short, and wore mannish clothing, making herself into some kind of warrior identity which worked perfectly for Nicholas Ray's Johnny Guitar (1954).

Basically after that, it was a slow decline, but the legacy was cemented. That is of course until her adopted daughter Christina wrote a scathing tell-all called 'Mommie Dearest' and tarnished Joan's reputation forever. No one would give you an argument if you said that Joan was not mother of the year, but the book is not exactly fully accurate. Books need to make money too, and I'm not saying I'm agreeing with it one way or the other. As Joan historian William Schoell said 'it's a great tragedy that when people hear the name Joan Crawford the first thing they think is 'no more wire hangers', because there is another Joan Crawford that people should remember.' Which is just exactly what I'm trying to do. Wish me luck!

Here 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.