living the dream

a moment of silence

four years ago tonight(ish), while the rest of the world watched the opening ceremonies of the Turin winter olympics on NBC, FOX quietly and unceremoniously burned off the last four episodes of the greatest sitcom ever made. still the only time i've ever cried during a TV show. -d

under the bus: the hulu habit

it's sunday night. the night when, tucked shamefully in the darkest recesses of the ill-lit stucco box i call home, i hunker down and wade through the minefield that is my hulu queue. these are moments i love and loathe. it's the only chance i get all week to catch up on the shows i actually like. but there are only so many of those. and when they're done, instead of turning off the computer and going to bed like a sane person, i let that damned fool continuous play feature drag me through half-hour after half-hour of rapidly denigrating television until suddenly it's 3am, my queue is empty, and i'm exhausted and angry and all i have to show for it is an empty box of gushers and 3 more pages of les moonves/jerry bruckheimer revenge fantasies. point is, this is going to change in 2010. and nothing inspires change like the embarrassment of full disclosure...

-- my queue --

community, 30 rock & [formerly] conan: the only reasons to feel good about turning on network tv. period. amazing how they can have so much good stuff can still manage to screw it all up.

the daily show (jump ahead to 3:15) & the colbert report: jon stewart and the first half of colbert offer arguably the finest political satire anywhere. but the last of colbert is just too awkward. even for me.

modern family: stereotypes are funny. really really really funny. too bad everything else on ABC sucks.

snl: kristen wiig. and that is all.

chuck: the plots are retarded. the acting is barely passable. and since buster got shot in the face, there is no reason for anything that happens at the Buy More to ever raise its head from the cutting room floor. but somewhere between the cars, the gadgets and the beautiful girls who usually end up fighting each other in showers, i do love this show. plus, it has without question the best soundtrack on television.

glee: i hate it. i hate how it makes me feel. i hate how patronizing the story lines are. i hate the idiot tingles i get from the inane writing. and i hate that in every episode, there are just enough impressive vocal performances and Sue pot shots at that idiot director guy's lesbian haircut to keep me from deleting the series from my queue. blech.

the simpsons: it amuses me less than the old ones do, but i feel like not watching it would be blasphemous. or at least racist.

family guy (american dad/cleveland show, etc, not even gonna waste time finding clips): it's stupid, easy, derivative comedy that unfortunately makes me laugh pretty consistently. also makes me wonder if censors even watch fox's shows anymore.

castle: captain mal. and that is all.

better off ted: ok, not everything else on ABC sucks. this show is usually pretty funny (and occasionally very very funny), but more than anything it fills the voids left by "arrested development" and "andy richter controls the universe" with portia di rossi and that funny white lab guy.

it's always sunny in philadelphia: like pretty much everything else on FX, you can't talk about sunny with everyone. i've found it's too loose, too weird and/or too repellent for most folks. (apparently people don't like mostly improvised shows about completely deplorable people.) but when you do find somebody else who laughs to tears at the mention of a priest cum crack addict cum exoskeletal homeless guy cum amateur wrestler, you know you've found a friend for life. -d

ukraine's got talent

it's sunday morning, 2am. just as i'm about to close my laptop for the night, i stumble upon this video about halfway down my facebook feed (thanks russ). and despite having just struggled to keep my eyes open on the drive back from the 909, i sat wide awake, completely mesmerized and totally engaged for the duration of this 9 minute video. it's of an artist who just won a ukranian talent competition. she uses sand painting to illustrate the german invasion and occupation of the ukraine during wwii. it's totally unreal. -d

colbert and murdoch vs. bears

"Bears are soulless, godless, rampaging killing machines. They are Satan's minions and the true symbol of evil."  -S. Colbert

though the folks at fox news frequently find themselves at odds with mr. colbert's politics, not even rupert murdoch can deny the threat that bears pose to our american way of life. i heard murdoch himself personally shepherded this hard-hitting expose through the necessary hoops to get it to air.  i think he even made the bear.

(note: sorry if this is old news. it just made me laugh so hard this morning that i wept. wept for fear of bears. and for the state of american journalism.)

give the gift of giving (give it far, give it wide)

i have a feeling the second half of this season of '30 rock' will probably end up being the stuff of legend.  i've said it before and i'll say it again:  the salma hayek 'generalissimo' episode was the closest any tv show has come to arrested development levels of writing, and there were at least 3 other episodes that were almost there (all of which, opposite-of-coincidentally, featured salma hayek. geeky writers always save their best stuff for the busty guest stars).  last night's season finale was pretty good, but as always, the best stuff came when they went all meta on us.  it started with celebrities rallying behind a cause (aka a bunch of famous people who doing a favor for somebody powerful who, i dunno, got them out of a 20 year exclusive performance contract at Sea World, for example).  then came the obligatory 'we are the world' song - complete w/ spoken word portion (elvis costello: "when someone starts talking in the middle of a song, you know it's serious!").  everybody likes seeing famous people mock their own way of life.  and most shows would have stopped there.  but not 30 rock.  no, instead they took their little meta exercise one step further, and decided to take their own gag seriously.  this morning, they released their little joke kidney song in the real world as a 99¢ music video download on itunes, and NBC & apple are giving 100% of the profits to some united states national american kidney organization place, i dunno.  all i know is that i love 30 rock, and until i get a nielsen box, i will support the show any way i can, even if that means i have to help somebody else in the process.

here's the link to buy the video on itunes:

http://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewTVSeason?id=315339996&s=143441

and for you cheapskates who hate both good TV and people with kidney problems, here's the free youtube version:

america got pwnd

there are lots of reasons i love cartoons.  not the least of which being b/c the people who create them come up w/ stunts like this. cartoon network's float in the macy's thanksgiving day parade featured a foster home for discarded imaginary friends -- and one of the best zings in the history of live television. epic win. -d

boom-de-yadda

i like to think of myself as a pretty media-savvy person.  i can usually tell which movies will be good and which won't.  i can usually extricate myself from the watching of a show or the hearing of a song well enough to objectively experience it.  i'm certainly intelligent enough to never ever fall victim to the subtle suggestions of an advertising campaign.  and i'm clearly mature enough to know when to speak in absolutes and when not to.

the idea of potentially switching from a small company to a huge corporation isn't a terribly appealing one.  i'm pretty much my own boss right now.  i work when i need to, and nobody really cares when i come in, so long as i get my stuff done.  i have almost complete creative control over my work, with people rarely checking for more than typos before my programs go to air.  i get more free DVDs, soundtracks and screening passes than I'll ever use.  i wear shorts and flip flops to work, i come in sweaty and smelly, i park my bike in the middle of the hallway, i walk around the office barefoot, i take vacation days at a moment's notice, i've got all the red bull and soymilk i can drink and all the bagels and cold cuts i can eat, and i'll absolutely never ever get tired of working 4 blocks from the beach.  sure the paychecks are unreliable, but the tradeoffs are undeniable.

i was watching the discovery channel a few nights ago.  during the break between episodes of 'how it's made', that commercial came on again, and i remembered why it was that i'd started looking for a new job.  it's an embarrassing story i've held off on telling, but it's time.  last spring, i was sitting at the old largo with two uncles and a cousin, eating my "food" and bracing for the invariably awkward opening act before the 'watkins family hour' got going.  my cousin was choking down a chicken breast of some sort, and i was picking my way through some pesto disaster, when we got on the subject of our jobs.  he works for a publisher, and i explained that i was involved in the production of entertainment news shows.  and in an only 1/3-joking, smart-assy way that only family can get away with, he asked if i felt like i was making the world a better place -- a sore subject for any conscience-laden entertainment journalist.  i didn't bother defending myself, as neither of us were buying it.  so i made a quick crack about hocking overpriced textbooks to struggling college kids and changed the subject.  but while i hated the thought of validating his moral terditude, it did, in fact, get me thinking.

later that night, i was at home working on the computer with the discovery channel on in the background, and i saw that commercial for the first time.  and so long as i'm contradicting myself and validating my cousin, i might as well throw myself all the way under the bus: the ad choked me up.  a carefully crafted piece of corporate propaganda got to me in a big way.  and what's worse, it made me want to make a difference.  i bet Ghassan means cliche in arabic.  i mean, come on: somebody makes an offhand comment, i get to thinking, i see something specifically designed to move me, i am moved, and i decide to make a life change?  sick. 

and the worst part is, my aversion to my own cookie cutter sappiness actually kept me from acting on that feeling for nearly 3 months.

ultimately though, i had to choke down my own lame story.  and subsequently, as i started thinking about options, i also had to swallow my prohibitive skepticism of large corporations.  make no mistake - i still think they're mostly run by greedy crooks.  but i figure there's got to be somebody out there who's doing something good, doing it well, and getting paid well for it, right?  there's got to be a company somewhere who finds a way to answer to both shareholders and the greater good.  a company who manages to package a valuable, useful, uplifting, interesting product in such a way that people buy into it out of a simple desire to grow and learn and be enlightened.  a brand whose purpose it is to inspire people to get out and do and experiment and explore, and whose clout and influence reach far enough to achieve that purpose on a broad and sweeping scale.  and if within such a company there exist things like bureaucracy and politics and self-interest, they will be necessary evils, means to an important end.  over the course of my professional career, i doubt i'll be able to avoid all the things that i dislike about the corporate world.  but i figure if i'm going to have to put up with that stuff, i'm going to do it in a place where at the very least, i can be proud of that end.  i'd like to come home at the end of the day exhausted from my commute, frustrated with my boss, and generally just sick of work, and be able to flip on whatever channel i work for, and get a little choked up.  i think that would be just awesome.

so if anybody knows of any channels like that, i'd really like an interview.  -d

old news: the day i met dario

old news is a new series i'm starting to make my inability to post anything promptly seem intentional.

it's friday february 22nd, 4pm.  it's a typical friday afternoon at stc:  things have been calm all day, until about 2 hours before it's time to go.  then the blackberry starts buzzing off the table, 14 sales dvd's need to be in belize in 15 minutes, and the ceo of the company needs me to pick up his daughter from jujitsu class.  amid the chaos, i get an email from a friend of mine who runs a PR firm that represents some pretty high profile film composers.  it's an invitation:  he wants me to attend a pre-oscar champagne reception the following day, to honor the 2008 best original score and best original song oscar nominees.  now, before you get excited, i've been to these receptions before.  i went to an emmy one last year, and maybe 1/3 of the nominees actually showed up -- and none of the one's you've heard of.  (don't get me wrong, i'll never turn down free champagne.  but it doesn't mix well with disappointment.)  so i accept, skeptically, and take off in search of the "Sixth Sensei" martial arts & meditation dojo.

saturday morning is full and beautiful.  biking along the beach, scrubbing the bathroom, the perfect day.  afternoon rolls around, and i'm starting to feel those 'out of my league' butterflies i get pretty frequently around here.  so i grab my roommate's nice nikon, slip into something hollywood casual (button up, blazer, jeans, nice shoes and sunglasses), and with the help of 'michelle', find my way over to a private residence in beverly hills.  as i turn north onto west beverly, i see a line of mercedes, jaguars and other non-scions up ahead, waiting for a valet, so i know i'm close.  michelle concurs.  then people start getting out of their non-scions.  people in hats and ties.  people wearing nice dresses and jackets and lots and lots of black.  people dressed very much non-hollywood casual.  it would appear that an oscar champagne reception is different than an emmy champagne reception, and no one has told me.  suddenly pulling up to the valet in a dirty XA seems the least of my problems. 

i look at the clock.  i'm alarmingly punctual, so i do a 180 and head back down beverly into the shopping district, where i speed-walk past the locals, who glare.  (rich people are never in a hurry.)  i'm scanning both sides of the street for a clothing store -- something nice, but not too nice -- a banana republic at least, or maybe one of those vaguely classy menswear boutiques with a generic italian name like Giovanni's or Uberto's.  i turn a corner.  GAP.  okay.  i was hoping for slacks, but i guess chinos are black, too.  and so long as nobody asks me 'who are you wearing?' at the door, i should be fine.  in i go.  black pants, black belt -- easy.  but the shirt.  if i wear white, people will hand me their car keys.  any other color and no one will take mine.  so black it is.  i find the black shirt section, and of course they are all creased and pinned, and definitely not pret-à-porter.  luckily i am at that moment flanked by a mannequin who looks to be about my size, wearing a freshly steamed black shirt, which he gives me without a word. 

a smiley 50-something changing room lady senses my panic, and doesn't even offer a number.  everything fits fine (a GAP miracle), and i run out to pay.  when the GAPgirl starts to bag things, i tell her not to bother.  she smiles knowingly, as if in her career behind that register she'd frequently encountered my brand of confused oscar-fête-invitee who knows little enough about party social conventions to wear jeans to one, and little enough about fashion to go to GAP to fix it.  but as she starts to cut off the tags off the 60 dollar pants i only plan on wearing once, i realize she doesn't know my demographic as well as she thinks.  i stop her mid-snip and head back to the changing room.  the smiley older lady smiles too.  she also thinks she knows me.  i smile back.  i think she just might.  she gets me an extra bag from the front to hold my hollywood casuals and wishes me luck.  i rush back to my car and back to the party.  the valet lot is "full".  they tell me to park around the block.  they can shut up.  i love my scion.

i get inside the party, and my friend immediately takes me over to meet alan.  who turns out to be alan menken.  you know, composer of songs from 'beauty and the beast', 'little mermaid', 'aladdin', a childhood hero.  no big deal.  i act cool and take a picture.  then over comes michael giacchino (the incredibles, ratatouille).  then over comes alan's lyricist steven schwartz, followed by richard sherman (mary poppins, chitty chitty bang bang).  my friend mentions that i am looking at 50 years of disney music.  i start to sweat.  alan laughs and tells me i need a drink.  he's probably right.  i shake some hands, take some pictures, and head to the patio to air out.

on the way, i brush past marco beltrami (3:10 to yuma) and james newton-howard (everything and the kitchen sink).  they seem to be deep in conversation, so i only interrupt long enough to take a picture and reassure them that we'll chat later.

it's starting to rain, so the patio crowd has congealed under the awning.  i carefully back up behind a portly gentlemen (is there any other kind?) who i've been told is the agent for alberto iglesias, composer of 'the kite runner' score and basically everything pedro almodovar has ever done.  my plan goes perfectly, and the gentleman's port bumps into my aft.  i introduce myself, and he introduces me to alberto.  we start talking.  he says he's from northern spain.  we start talking in spanish.  his beautiful spanish wife joins in.  we start talking about the camino.  30 minutes later we are curtly interrupted by someone who claims to own the house we're in.  he's standing on a stage, trying to start a program of some kind.  i exchange cards w/ alberto, excuse myself in castellano and use my very professional-looking nikon to elbow my way up to the front row.

one by one the best song nominees take the stage to get their applause and their gift bag.  alan is genial.  the 'august rush' guys look terrified.  and the kids from 'once'...oh the kids from 'once'.  glen and marketa have just walked in the door when they are called up on stage.  marketa looks calm.  glen has his guitar slung over his shoulder.  yes, the guitar.  the lady next to me suggests that they sing.  i second.  and in a single motion that is both spontaneous and effortless, both gracious and pleased, the empty case hits the stage and he plucks the first notes of 'falling slowly'.  at one point during the song, me and the woman next to me look at each other and shake our heads.  her twinkly eyes and goofy grin quite clearly say, 'no way this is happening'.  i just giggle.  and later, as glen is wailing something about me still having time, i consider not returning my expensive new outfit, just to feel like somehow i've earned the experience.

none of the best original score composers bring any instruments.  it's still cool to see them all together though.  they come on one by one.  james.  michael.  marco.  alberto.  and then dario.  now, i should start this part by saying that the little composer-crush sported by the character i play on tv was initially contrived in part because me and my co-writer josh like his music a lot.  but mostly, we just thought it was funny.  but as we fed the joke by really digging into his music, we started to see what a truly talented guy he was.  and in all the interviews we ever heard, he was this soft-spoken, courteous guy who knew his music inside and out.  what better object for a network-wide crush?

dario deflects the compliments and the applause.  he just looks happy to be there.  the little ceremony ends, and after some pictures, he walks to an empty corner of the awning, turns around, leans against a pole and just takes it all in.  at the moment, he's the only composer not talking to anybody, so i figure now's my chance.  i stammer a bit.  i mean, what do you say to the guy who wrote 'pride and prejudice'?  so i congratulate him on the nomination, and tell him he should have won last year.  i tell him about the channel, and then, regrettably, i let slip that he's the object of our little obsession.  as soon as it's out i get awkward.  but he just laughs and says something about 'pride and prejudice' probably not being the finest piece of music ever written, contrary to what i have probably just told him.  i laugh too.  and from then on, it's just friends chatting.  i ask him about his upcoming projects.  i ask him about getting back into non-film classical music.  i ask him if he's planning on working with terry gilliam again.  you know, shooting the shoot.  and then, we're done.  we take a quick picture together.  we exchange cards.  and as i walk away, i hear the start of his next conversation.  it's with another guy with a camera.  the last thing i hear is the guy gushing about how dario totally should have won the oscar last year for 'pride and prejudice'.  dario laughs and i cringe.

i only hang around for a few minutes after that.  just long enough to fulfill my promise to james and marco, toss a 'tanks' and a hug to glen and marketa, and say a quick word to michael giacchino (whose score for 'ratatouille' really should have won the oscar this year -- but don't tell dario).  then i thank my friend, and head out the front door into a light drizzle.  the valet asks for my ticket.  i scowl imperceptibly and put on my sunglasses, making a mental note to return my party clothes to the GAP near my office first thing monday morning.  -d

ps.  here's the link to a hi-res gallery of photos from the evening.

another reason to love the writers strike

in addition to the canceling of the golden globes and the postponing of the filming of angels and demons, stuff like this makes me glad the writers are still on strike.  basically a bunch of writers creating storylines (and finales) for each others shows.  here's a snippet:

from a bunch of Daily Show writers, the finales of:

Lost
It turns out the island is actually a peninsula. Boy, are they embarrassed.

American Gladiators
In an embarrassing mix-up, Simon, Randy, and Paula tell Militia he will not be going to Hollywood. He kills them.

Man vs. Wild 
Wild wins. Werner Herzog advises America not to watch the final episode.

Rachael Ray
Rachael wraps a pretzel in a piece of bologna and calls it a “healthy 30-second snack.” TV executives reward her with another multimillion-dollar contract.

Who Wants to Be a Millionaire, So You Think You Can Dance, and Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader?
The shows end with the answers “Me,” “Not really,” and “Yes.”

                                                               

here's the link from new york magazine.  (page 1 & 5 are the best -- thanks babs)  -d

did you feed and dress yourself this morning? i didn't.

i want skittles immediately.  i've also just had the sudden urge to kill fire ants. (click it.  trust me.)