Well, dear readers, I do believe that this very day is the one year anniversary of our new discussion board. Yes, you heard it here, dear readers, this is the one year anniversary of our new discussion board. It was a difficult transition for some, but ultimately I’m glad we did it, because we are safe and secure from all alarms by having this type of board. For example, I have never become bored of this board. Nor have I become board of this bored. And anyone who didn’t make the transition (you know who you are, as we’re quite certain you’re still reading us) didn’t and doesn’t deserve to be called a true hainsie/kimlet. We are a special breed, we are, and I am proud to have each and every one of you here and posting. And I love when newcomers arrive, too, and we’ve had our fair share of them. Coming up in just a couple of weeks will be the big three year anniversary of this here site, and let me tell you we will be having a super-duper splendiferously splendiferous celebration – the date to remember is November 9th. I’ve been reading those early entries and they are fascinating. In those days, we were lucky to get ten count them ten posts. And it’s quite clear where my head was and it’s quite interesting to me to see the “happy face” I was putting on and seeing my many ways of saying things about what had happened without really saying them. In one of the first entries I talk about just having completed Benjamin Kritzer two weeks before the debut of the site. In any case, we shall be having a lollapalooza (azoolapallol, spelled backwards) of a celebration. Azoolapallol – that sounds like an Eyetalian dessert to me.
Last night I watched a motion picture on DVD entitled The Stepford Wives. Not the original film, mind you, no I watched this year’s remake, starring Miss Nicole Kidman. If you enjoyed the film you may skip directly to the next paragraph. To say I abhorred and hated every minute of this remake would be far too kind – I came as close as I ever have to throwing my shoe through the television screen. It is so misbegotten on every level I just sat there with my mouth agape. At some point I started yelling at the TV. The actors are not the problem – they are all just fine. The problem can be summed up in four words – Scott Rudin/Paul Rudnick. What they have done to Ira Levin’s marvelous novel is criminal – not just bad, but criminal. They decided that The Stepford Wives would be a comedy. Not just a comedy, though, but a really stupid comedy, one with caricatures instead of characters. That way, the audience could feel absolutely nothing about the people in the film, not care one or even two whits about their plight, and basically just not care about anything. Of course, that is a sure way to have a film be a complete failure. Of course, Mr. Rudnick, wants to have his cake and eat it, too – he occasionally throws in a scene where two people have a serious conversation. But we don’t care, we just don’t give a flying Wallenda because they are caricatures. The movie starts with one of the stupidest and most unfunny scenes I’ve ever seen, and it goes downhill from there. It’s not that Mr. Rudnick doesn’t occasionally whip off a good one-liner, it’s just he has no clew how to write a cohesive story for this film. If you’re going to do a “spoof” of The Stepford Wives, call it something else – don’t shat all over Mr. Levin’s novel. The previous film was no masterpiece, but it kept the spirit of the novel and, of course, compared to this thing it is a masterpiece. Everything about this film is wrong – every single thing. At the seventy minute mark we get the scene that ends the novel and the previous film version. The film then goes on for another seventeen minutes that are excruciating – with Mr. Rudnick trying to be PC and, in so doing, subverting the entire point of the book. I cannot speak lowly enough of this film. I looked up the grosses and they say this thing earned 59 million bucks. That is a big fat lie – and if you go back and look at the weekly grosses you can see just how big a big fat lie that is. But even if it had earned that much, it’s still a box-office bomb. I think I’ll watch the original, just to get the bad taste out of my mouth. Someone ought to just suggest to Mr. Rudin and Mr. Rudnick that their little “club” is tiresome and they should start making original films instead of desecrating things like The Stepford Wives. Horrible.
What am I, Ebert and Roeper all of a sudden? That paragraph was a real lollapalooza, wasn’t it? I may just have to eat some azoolapallol to forget about it.
Well, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below because this section has become the War and Peace of these here notes.
My goodness, that first section was both a lollapalooza and a azoolapallol. Try saying either of those words ten times in a row really fast.
Now I must write the rest of these here notes in a trice because the first section took so damnably long. And, don’t throw a hissy fit, but they may even go up two or three minutes late this evening. Have you ever thrown a hissy fit? If so, how far did you throw it, and did the hissy fit enjoy being thrown?
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must write, do errands, do a spot of reading and eat various and sundried foodstuffs. I must go back and see when the first time I wrote the “I must take the day” finale to the notes. But for now, happy anniversary to the board, and to all you dear, dear people out there in the dark. Today’s topic of discussion: It’s Friday – what is currently in your CD player and your DVD/video player. I’ll start – CD, Astrud Gilberto’s marvelous Beach Samba album, and a Rupert Holmes album I never even knew existed – called Scenario, only released in Japan. It’s interesting – not his best, but some good stuff on it. Also, the soundtrack to The Incredibles – if you love John Barry, it will be right up your alley. DVD – Laurel and Hardy in Way Out West will be next up. Your turn. Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, all of them lollapaloozas or, at the very least azoolapallols.