Well, dear readers, I hope everyone is enjoying their long, long, weekend. I had a lovely Saturday – I wrote, I drove, I ate, not necessarily in that order. I was quite a good boy, food-wise – up until ten-thirty I’d only had a salad with some shrimp in it. But I got very hungry on my way home from the movie and I ordered something to go from the Daily Grill. I must say, I don’t like the Daily Grill. Every time I look at their menu I think I’ve found something I will like, but then I don’t like it. I ordered a small Caesar salad (which was fine, actually) and then an Atkins-friendly dish called Joe’s Special, which consists of hamburger, eggs, mushrooms, onions and spinach. Well, there was so much damned spinach in the thing and it was so bitter and yucky that I could barely finish half of it. I was then quite nauseous for quite some time. No more Daily Grill ever.
Last night I went to my friend’s screening room to see Down With Love. Mr. George Chakiris was there again, and we spent quite a long time talking about many things, and he’s a lovely gentleman and I think he’s even going to come to the screening of The First Nudie Musical on Wednesday. The film was Down With Love, starring Miss Renee Zellwegger and Mr. Ewan MacGregor. Last year, Mr. Todd Haynes decided to make himself a Douglas Sirk movie, Far From Heaven, and he did so. This year Peyton Reed, who I’ve never heard of in my life, decided to make himself a Doris Day/Rock Hudson/Ross Hunter movie and someone decided to let him. The difference is that Far From Heaven, whether you knew Mr. Haynes was slavishly copying Mr. Sirk or not, worked on its own because the story worked and the performers took it seriously and played the characters as real characters. This does not happen in Down with Love. The movie is so full of its own cleverness it never has a chance. It winks at the audience, the characters and everything else in between. Miss Zellwegger, who I like, does not play a character, she plays Doris Day playing a character and it’s annoying. MacGregor has none of the charm of Mr. Hudson, but David Hyde Pierce does fine in the Tony Randall role. Tony Randall does fine in the Edward Andrews role. Instead of being totally true to the genre, they load on the off-stage double entendre jokes that turn out to be something else when revealed on camera (after the fourth time I wanted to scream “knock it off already”). The style of the film is very accurate from the titles to the split screen. But again, they suddenly use the split screen to do a series of sex jokes that would be right at home in Austin Powers. And then there is the music. Now, I like Mr. Marc Shaiman and his music here is accurate and excellent. The problem, as usual with today’s films, is that it never ever stops – it just keeps going and just when you think it’s going to finally, mercifully stop, it starts again. The running time is somewhere between 95 and 100 minutes (sources vary) and I clocked less than five minutes in the entire film that remain unscored. A scene will have a musical button, a line or two of the next scene will start in blessed silence and then the music will come back in and stay in forever. And it’s not just me – someone coming out of the screening said, “Geez, after twenty minutes I had a headache from the music – after forty minutes I wanted to strangle the composer”. It may not be Mr. Shaiman’s fault – it may well be what the producer and director dictated but its just awful and this trend needs to be stopped immediately. In any case, it’s one thing to make an affectionate homage to a beloved genre, it’s another thing to do it in a smirking winking way. That is not to say that there aren’t amusing things along the way, there are, but by the end the running time seems more like two hours than 95 minutes (I thought the film was over at the eighty minute mark, which I thought was the two hour mark, and yet it went on for another interminable twenty minutes). But see it for yourselves and post your opinions here. I’m sure the soundtrack album is nice, though and probably a lot shorter than the music in the film.
What am I, Ebert and Roeper all of a sudden? Isn’t it Sunday, a day of short notes? Quick, let’s all click on the Unseemly Button below whilst I try not to think of Joe’s Special.
Oops (spoo spelled backwards), I’m thinking of Joe’s Special and getting nauseous all over again. Joe’s Special is special all right – if you want to get nauseous and feel queasy or if you like ten pounds of spinach in your dinner. Blechhh I say to the fershluganah Joe’s Special and the Daily Grill.
Don’t forget, tonight is our Unseemly Live Chat and we want to see as many Hainsies/Kimlets there as possible. We want to have a lively and sparkling chat with lots of dish but no Joe’s Special. There will be many shocking revelations in tonight’s chat so be there or be round at six o’clock Pacific Mean Daylight Savings Time.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must bring pages of the new book to my friend Margaret, I must buy shipping supplies to ship things, I must eat foodstuffs if and when I get over my nauseous feeling from remembering Joe’s Special. Today’s topic of discussion: It’s Sunday, free-for-all day, the day in which you get to discuss any topics your collective hearts desire. So post away, post often, and I will check back and take part in your various and sundried discussions, and then I will see you all for our Unseemly Live Chat.