Cleveland Part 3: Extremeties

I am currently on the third of three days off in Cleveland.  At this point I am now beginning to over-analyze everything I see.  Fortunately the shows resume tomorrow night, which should prevent me from turning into Jack Nicholson in The Shining.

First off, I am getting a great tan in Cleveland, but it is more a wandering nomad, homeless-guy-in-LA tans, rather than a beach vacation tan.  That means my face, forearms and calves are a dark brown and everything else is relatively pale.  Because the bridge that shortens my walk to Starbucks and the Mall each day (and is a short cut to two strip clubs) is out of commission (for a year now – it was supposed to be fixed using Stimulus money – how ironic the stimulus money is preventing stimulation at the strip clubs – wakka wakka) I have to take the longer walk over the Veterans Memorial Bridge (VMB) every time I want to do anything besides meditate or avoid sneaky spider webs in the comedian condo.

Yesterday, for example, at 6:20pm (plenty of daylight), I observed a party of 5 to 6 raccoons cross the street on my way to the VMB (good sign of rabies).  A day earlier I saw a creature that I did not recognize, despite watching all 11 episodes of Planet Earth, running in a nearby dirt patch.

Of course once I pass the Land of the Lost nature preserve I apparently am living in, I am quickly welcomed onto the set of Breaking Bad.  There is some sort of rehab clinic or shelter midway between the condo and the bridge.  There has never been any trouble and I am sure there is good work going on there, but it is still unnerving to see people walking like they are zombies nearby.  Except, unlike The Walking Dead, the white-black ratio is more 1:1 than a television acceptable 10:1.

Once I get passed the rehab center I can go straight, which leads to the supermarket and what appears, based on a proliferation of newish-looking beer gardens, to be a future yuppie, hipster neighborhood.  But first I have to walk through what feels like a four-to-five block hood.  As in I expect Cuba Gooding Jr. to scream RICKKYYYYYYYYYYY!” as I walk through it.  I have gone this way once to get groceries.  Perhaps I will go that way again today and work on my 40 yr dash time.

The other way, which has been my two to three times per day walk, is over the VMB which leads to food, Starbucks, Mass and the gym.  Of course crossing the bridge has been an adventure.  Usually there are lots of bike riders, but only about 1 in 5 are 10 speed-looking bike riders.  The rest are riding tiny bikes.  I never understood why grown men rode bikes that looked like they belonged to their younger siblings or children, but they immediate convey low level narcotics trafficking to me.  Then of course there are those special moments, like on Saturday, when I was jogging across the bridge and I observed a man without a shirt (hardly uncommon at the cross roads of Jurassic Park nature preserve, hood, and rehab clinic).  However, as I got closer it, became clearer that he had his penis out and was pissing into the wind while walking.   If he was headed to the rehab clinic I am guessing that he is going to need to give back that “two days sober” chip.

My daily ritual has been to read and write in Starbucks for several hours (since I just buy a one green tea I am basically renting the table for fifty cents an hour) before going to the gym.  Naturally this involves a lot of people watching.  Just the same way our economy and capitalism are helping to destroy what was once known as the middle class, the more I travel the country, observing “real Americans” the more I realize that Oscar Wilde was right – life is imitating art.  It seems the smaller the town or city, the more women are either dressing and inked up like porn stars, or just waiting on a 9th piece of chocolate cake.  I guess women have adopted the ,”If I cannot make a sex tape I might as well get on The Biggest Loser.”

When I was doing clubs in the South, before they realized that book-learning and sarcasm did not always translate well to the “free ticket” crowds, I noticed the extremes of women.  They either looked and acted like Vivid video spokeswomen or like cheerleaders for Type II diabetes.   Obviously I am not examining men with the same eye to to detail, but the tattoo craze seems to have afflicted us as well, and I am sure we exhibit the same fitness extremes.   I don’t know if there is a crisis of confidence in America, only because we may be too shallow to actually examine how we feel.  We don’t just export our entertainment abroad -we also export it to the middle of this country, that used to be called upon to produce for us.  The Midwest had the identity of being the muscles of our industries – now they seem like an exaggerated testing ground for Internet and Reality Show trends.   The way a man without a job can turn to crime, it seems that when whole regions of the country have their jobs or identity stripped, a cultural race to the bottom seems to happen.  There are plenty of frauds and fools roaming New York City, but the uniformity of Middle America is starting to make think that the tattooed moron and the obese sad sack are becoming as American as the strip malls and apple pie that they consume.

So if you thought those last couple of paragraphs were funny, I will be at the Cleveland Improv Thursday through Sunday.

Cleveland Steamer

I am currently embedded in Starbucks because of a muggy downpour outside, which is a terrible way to begin a three day break in Cleveland.  It is the baseball all star game so there are no sports to watch, I have already been to the Rock N Roll Museum (sorry, your new exhibit on “Women Who Rock!” is not enough to get me back so soon after my initial visit last year) and I am trying hard not to see Zookeeper or Larry Crowne, which means I am out of things to do.  I am in Cleveland because I have been booked for back to back weeks.  I just opened for Rodney Perry, best known for his work on The Mo’nique Show and in a recent Tyler Perry movie.  After three days off to self-hate I will be opening for Matt Braunger, who is quite a different performer.  Of course, when comparing clips I think you will see that the booker for the Cleveland Improv is stretching my diversity a bit thin.  I think the manager knowing that I am mixed race has doubled the work I get here, but also doubles the work.

It has been a big week for half-black people.  Derek Jeter got his 3,000th hit this weekend and President Obama made it another week without getting killed by the Tea Party.  Meanwhile I was introduced on stage to Michael Jackson’s “Black or White” (not kidding).

Here is Rodney Perry:

Had a fun time working with him this weekend and he is a super nice guy.

Now here is Matt Braunger, who I will open for this weekend:

Now guess who the only person will be that attending both of these shows?  Most likely me.  Between the two crowds, I will end up performing something akin to Jim Carrey’s split personality in Me, Myself & Irene.  So if you are in Cleveland – get your tickets to Matt Braunger this week and see me defeat the attempt by Cleveland Improv General Manager Lee Herlands to make my life difficult.

Movie Of The Week: Horrible Bosses

Much to the chagrin of readers I opted not to make Zookeeper the movie of the week.  I have already said all that I can say about Kevin James when I called him the worst movie maker in Hollywood.  So this week I saw Horrible Bosses.  I left feeling like I did when I saw Tropic Thunder.  There were many funny lines and moments, but at the end I just felt like I hadn’t seen a very good movie, but rather a collection of funny lines (so I guess the screen writers still get solid credit).  Moreover, the film feels like a movie made in an alternative universe: a universe where Jason Bateman, Charlie Day and Jason Sudekis went back in a time machine to about 5 years ago and murdered Luke Wilson, Zach Galifianakis and Dane Cook, respectively, and took their places in a movie they were destined to make.

The movie’s plot is fairly simple.  The three main characters have awful bosses who range from evil (Kevin Spacey) to sleazy (Colin Farrell – very funny in limited time) and the excessively hot and manipulative (Jennifer Aniston).  They agree to murder their bosses for each other, while being “coached” along by murder consultant Motherfu*ker Jones (Jamie Foxx) – they got more laughs out of me from that name then I am proud to admit.  Goofiness ensues and it is wrapped up neatly in the end (which is becoming the trend in comedies now – rather than allow a plot to develop naturally and have to write an additional 15 minutes, recent comedies seem to just have something extremely convenient occur with five minutes left so the movie can end.  Bad Teacher felt the same way).  But what I really found fascinating is how the stars of this movie, especially Bateman and Sudekis have rendered their immediate predecessors in Hollywood (Luke Wilson and Dane Cook) wholly irrelevant by being better versions of those guys.

Jason Bateman a/k/a/ R.I.P Luke Wilson

Ever since his comeback in Arrested Development, a/k/a greatest television comedy of all time, Jason Bateman has proven how funny the straight man can actually be.  While being the foil for wackier characters in both the show and subsequent movies, he has proven that the straight man can sometimes be the funniest guy in a scene, not just the victim of funnier people.  Which is why he is a huge improvement over Owen Wilson, who, most famously in Old School, played the funny straight man, simply because he was the straight man.  He had to do no heavy lifting with Vince Vaughn and Will Ferrell doing all the crazy work.  But Bateman has changed the straight man role – rather than be a QB that just manages the comedy game, like Wilson, Bateman is both a game manager and a playmaker.  Sorry Luke.

Jason Sudekis a/k/a a Midwestern Dane Cook with more range

A friend of mine had recently sent me a text making some comparison between Dane Cook and Jason Sudekis.  It was not very complimentary and I did not understand the association.  But while watching Horrible Bosses I realized that Sudekis is literally a bigger Dane Cook.  Sudekis, who I believe is from Kansas, literally comes off as the larger, Midwestern cousin of Dane Cook.  And sadly, for Dane Cook – he is having a lot more success.  The thing is Sudekis can play the guy who is sort of a goober (Hall Pass) or a semi-ladies man (Horrible Bosses).  Cook came in like gangbusters with roles as the “cool guy” because Hollywood forgot to tell him that handsome and cool in comedy is a lot different than handsome and cool in Hollywood.  And bonus –  Sudekis probably has someone advising him to not to make five shitty movies in a row if he wants to have longevity.

I think the only hope for Wilson and Cook is that they can become the Josh Lucases to Bateman and Sudekis’ Matthew McConaughey.

So the movie is solid because of the decent number of laughs, but by no means spectacular.  If you catch a matinee you’ll get your money’s worth.

Final Grade – B

The Casino, The Bloody Toilet Seat & Vanilla Coke…

So after a few weeks of dominating Call of Duty: Black Ops while stationed in my man-cave, AKA  studio apartment, I headed back out onto the road Wednesday for a two week comedy trip.  The first gig was a spot at the Turning Stone Casino in Verona, NY, which is somewhere near the north pole.

The Casino

Wednesday I drove up (well, rode shotgun) with comedian Joe Pontillo to perform at the Turning Stone Casino.  It is my third time performing at the casino and I am glad to say that the gig keeps improving with each trip.  The first time I went there was a crowd of 25 in a room that sat 400.  Then the casino re-configured their night club into a comedy room that was much smaller and more conducive to comedy.  The last show I did there probably had 50 audience members and Wednesday night we had about 80!  At this rate I will be a world renowned comedian sometime after my 147th birthday!

But the show actually went really well.  Fortunately Joe and I did not perish in what has become a traditional, Act-of-God weather phenomenon on the drive up to Verona.  Last winter we drove up and encountered three separate snowstorms.  However, none scared me as much as the thunderstorm we passed through on the way up Wednesday.  I actually thought we were witnessing the end of the world.  But I’m sure everyone upstate would attribute increasingly severe weather to it’s obvious cause: the onerous tax burdens on wealthy Americans and businesses.

After my set a young man bought me a drink at the bar and told me he thought my jokes were awesome.  Then after the show he came up to me with his girlfriend and said, “Awesome stuff man – I didn’t buy you a drink like as in ‘I’ll suck your dick,’ but (gesturing to his girlfriend) she might suck your dick – hahaha.”  I told him, “Yeah that was so weird and awkward until you clarified it.  Now no one feels strange.”

But speaking of sucking dick I observed something even more bizarre towards the end of the show.  Three women, who on average were a 9.3/10 (and not in that stupid way where most women assume they are already a 7 or an 8 when they are 4s and 5s – these chicks were Hollywood 9.3s).  They were accompanied by a few men all of whom appeared to be 2-3 times their age.  This brought up several thoughts/questions for me:

  1. Attractive women can be found anywhere where there is the possibility of money, except for candy stores selling lottery tickets.
  2. The Turning Stone Casino in Verona, NY has prostitutes?  And hot ones?
  3. Why are comedians not offered prostitutes in lieu of cash and/or hotel room?
  4. Is it possible these women are not whores?  Or even if they are, has living in Verona, NY made them unaware that being a 9.3 (or a flat out 10 in the case of the woman wearing the white dress – if you are reading this blog) carries a much higher exchange rate in major cities?  Old men in Verona can offer you what?  Applebees’ gift cards and discounted hunting permits?  In the city you are looking at a 1 bedroom apartment on Central Park West and a purse dog.

Well the gig ended – I got a good night’s sleep and then made my way to the Syracuse Greyhound Station for a 7 hour ride from Syracuse to Cleveland, Ohio while the haunting opening chimes of AC/DC’s Hells Bells played in my iPod.

The Bloody Toilet Seat

It should be no secret to the readers of this blog that like Republicans in Congress I am waging a war to cut benefits on the neediest citizen I know: me.  That is why I seek to end up in the black on every trip I make.  That means the cheaper the gig, the longer and cheaper the transportation.  I have taken 18 hour Greyhound trips and this fall I will add a 20 hour Greyhound trip and a 30 hour Amtrak trip to my Joey Chestnut/Kobayashi of self-destruction through transportation.  But Syracuse to Cleveland was only a 7 hour bus ride.  I can do that in my sleep.  But shortly into the trip I was yelling “This was supposed to be an exhibition!” like Apollo Creed’s trainer right before Apollo is killed by Drago.

One of the great things about America is its diversity, especially in cities like Washington, DC and New York City.  It means people of different backgrounds, hot women of all varieties, etc.  But these are the positives of diversity.  Taking a Greyhound bus for any significant distance (more than 100 miles) demonstrates how awful diversity can be.  Here is what one would learn from the diversity on my Greyhound yesterday:

  1. Amish people travel in large packs and not one of them has a stick of deodorant.  There is also no such thing as a handsome or attractive Amish person (sorry Kelly McGillis).  And even if one were accidentally handsome or pretty, lack of sunlight and grooming products would nurture what nature tried to fight.
  2. People of all races who appear to have felony records prefer Greyhound.
  3. Black woman having a conversation asked the following questions: a) “Her son is dead?  They was playing with guns?” b) “Them black vitamins was omega threes?”  I enjoyed this because as a heavy set black woman she endorsed two negative stereotypes (poor grammar and gun violence) but also showed that she does care about her heart and joint health.
  4. Only angry tall people read on Greyhound.  Everyone else maintains hour long phone conversations or listens to their iPod so loud that I can actually understand lyrics from three seats away (oddly a dude that looked like he was an extra on Sons of Anarchy was listening to No Scrubs by TLC).

But sometimes you learn something on a Greyhound bus that you already knew, but the magnitude of it shocks you to the core.  It should not come as a shock that bus bathrooms are gross.  For me they pose an additional challenge.  First, I have to duck in most (they seem to be about 6’5″ at best and I am 6’7″).  Second, the bus drivers prefer the stop and start motion as if they are in bumper to bumper traffic, and third, I try not to hold on to anything in a bus bathroom.  So under ideal circumstances a simple piss turns into a p90X level core strengthening and balance workout.  But the bathroom on this Greyhound had a special surprise for me:

Blood on the toilet seat.

Let’s do some soul searching.  I am not always the best bus and train bathroom person.  9 out of 10 times I will take a wad of toilet paper to lift up the seat, but sometimes the damage is so severe that some J-L urine may actually sterilize whatever the hell has gone on previous to my visit.  But those are all within what the reasonable person would expect.  But blood on a toilet seat?  Personally I think it was the Amish, but who knows?  One of my fellow passengers might have been fleeing a shoot out with law enforcement.  But in any case it was the most disgusting thing I’d ever seen.  And then I felt the most disgusting thing I’d ever felt.  As I was leaning and twisting to keep balance in the bathroom my back (which was only covered by a t shirt) made contact with a gooey, gel-like substance which quickly seeped through to my skin.  The next three seconds seemed to last an eternity as I believed that the blood was just a diversion to get me to inadvertently slap some ejaculate on my upper back.  Fortunately it was just some gel soap from the soap dispenser that someone had smeared on the mirror (hell soap anywhere is an improvement at this point).  As odd as that sounds it is what I observed and it is what I will tell myself to go to sleep for the next 6 months until the trauma of that bathroom subsides.

Cleveland Improv & The Birth of Vanilla Coke

By 730 last night, after I had scrubbed my back with alcohol and sandpaper it was time to perform at the Cleveland Improv.  What is normally a fairly diverse crowd (on average the crowds I’ve had at the club have been 60% black, 40% white + other) was almost 100% black.  And female.  And that can be a tough crowd for me.  If I don’t say some things that bush buttons racially (while urban crowds are still determining whether to consider me one of them or too close to a white dude talking sh*t) I will generally push some buttons gender-wise.  But the crowd was fantastic.  The last time I was in a room of black people that happy I was at IHOP with my Dad.  As I have always said there is no greater feeling than killing in a black room and no worse feeling than doing badly in a black room.  And last night felt great.

Here are some of the highlights (because this weekend will probably provide me with five opportunities to experience the full spectrum of urban comedy):

  • I finally came up with my stage name if I decide to go the BET circuit.  Vanilla Coke (alluding to my half-black, Algerian-at-best appearance).  At least half a dozen women shouted it at me as they left the club.  I will gladly change that to my officially name if Coca Cola wants to pay me $250,000 annually for the next 30 years.
  • When I said my Mom was white a woman shouted, “You look good anyway!”  Never has a compliment felt so weird.
  • When I discussed how my Dad was a tough disciplinarian when I was a kid there was no response.  I then asked, “Anybody know their Dad here?” Huge laugh.  When in doubt, in a room of 200+ black women, it is safe to rip irresponsible black men, as long as they already like you.

It is a weird phenomenon, but when you kill with mostly white crowds you feel like they want to buy you a beer or bang their girlfriend in Verona, NY.  But when you kill with a black crowd it feels like they want you to join their family.  Hopefully the good times keep rolling.

So that has been the trip so far, but with gigs spread over the next 10 days in Cleveland I am sure there will be more to discuss, but hopefully no more bloody toilet seats.

Tracy Morgan – Unwanted Comedy Martyr

I have always had a hard time figuring out Tracy Morgan’s success.  I have never liked his stand up comedy – it is that magical combination of vulgar and irrelevant, with a splash of outdated hackiness.  I never understood why people found him funny on SNL.  And his movies speak for themselves (e.g. Cop Out).  But he found magic on 30 Rock and I will give the Devil his due.  He is funny on that show.  I think that is primarily because Tina Fey must be the Vulgar Hack Whisperer because it is her and her staff’s words that bring Tracy Morgan’s Tracy Jordan to life.  But the success as Tracy Jordan has undoubtedly brought Tracy Morgan’s wealth, fame and exposure to new heights.  With that has brought a new scrutiny to his stand up.  And all of it is misplaced.

He said some things that were hurtful to gay people – stabbing his son to death if he turned out to be gay.  Then he made some jokes about “retard strength” at Caroline’s this weekend in New York City (by the way – this has been a common joke for as long as I’ve been watching comedy, let alone performing it).  I would like to first say that I think everything he said is fair game at a comedy show.  The only thing in recent memory I would call out of bounds was Michael Richard’s impression of Howard Dean as Grand Wizard of the Ku Klux Klan.  That was out of bounds because it was meant to offend only.  It was not said within the context of jokes (bad jokes should be protected).  And after watching all 9 seasons of Seinfeld recently I am ready to forgive Kramer (damn good on that show).

The problem is that Tracy Morgan is not a good enough or respected enough comedian to become the free speech martyr/test case for comedy.  Some may not be aware of this, but Rosa Parks was not an accident (yes I am drawing a very loose parallel here to Rosa Parks).  The plan was for another woman to test the bus seating rules, but the original woman had a child out of wedlock, if I remember correctly, so she did not make a perfect test case.  However, Rosa Parks was a sweet woman without blemish so she made the perfect person to take a seat on the front of the bus and be the title of an Outkast song; only a pure racist could raise issue with Rosa Parks’ right to sit where she wanted.

Similarly to the failed Rosa Parks, Tracy Morgan is not an artful or brilliant enough comedian to be the one to stand up for free speech in comedy.  But the reason he is in this case in the first place is because his success and fans come from his non-stand up exploits.  Guys like Patrice O’Neal and Louis C.K. say many things that you would not want to hear in polite company, but they are so skilled at their craft that they are both good enough to attract big crowds and only attract real comedy fans who know, understand and appreciate the rules of the game.  Tracy Morgan attracts lots of people that want Tracy Jordan and are very shocked and offended when they don’t get that.  Some of his fans are the fame-fuckers that I have repeatedly argued will hurt comedy and true to my words these are the people that want to sanitize comedy when it is not the comedy they want.  Sadly, the comedy business wants their money so the comedians-in-title-only will be here to stay as long as the business model encourages more Tracy Morgans and fewer Patrice O’Neals.

I have said things at open mics and in bars and clubs that I would not say outside of the club (at least the way I phrased things), but I have the knowledge and comfort that when I say things on a stage that I can be given leeway, not on the humor quality, bit on the delivery.  99.9% of the things said on stage should be judged on humor only.  If we chill that ability then great on-the -edge comedy will die.  Some black people were offended by Chris Rock’s Classic “Niggas vs. Black People” bit as he worked it out across the country.  Had the outcry been bigger would comedy be better off if he had caved to pressure?  Of course not.  I am not saying that Tracy Morgan was working out classic bits, but if casual comedy fans are allowed to inject their agenda whenever they are offended, great comedians will eventually suffer the same fate as Tracy Morgan.  Also, as the Tracy Morgans grow in number and begin to fill more and more weekends at comedy clubs and the fans continue to show up for their comedy the misguided complaints will continue to make headlines.  It will feed itself.

So instead of having meetings to help the healing with whatever community is offended this week, just stay the fu*k out of comedy clubs.  That goes for Tracy Morgan and the people he offended.

Movie of the Week: Transformers 3

Transformers 3: Dark of the Moon begins with a Forrest Gump-like altering of the moon landing.  In the Michael Bay version of the moon landing, Neil Armstrong & Co. were actually on the moon to investigate an alien aircraft (i.e. Transformer) that crashed on the moon, the dark side to be exact.  What was odd about the historical footage about the moon landing, the scientific discovery, the sense of national pride, the image of a giddy Walter Cronkite, was how there was both a sense of real human accomplishment and a sense of justified national pride.  The irony could not be thicker watching Transformers 3.  It was a movie filled with the most obvious patriotic propaganda since Rocky IV and the usage of computer technology has never been used for something so inane.  On the plus side, it is better than Transformers 2, which was one of the worst movies of the last 5 years.

 

The Good of Transformers 3

On the plus side the effects are excellent and the 3-D is pretty good as well. And once again it is better than Transformers 2.  OK now that I have discussed the good, on to the bad.

The Bad of Transformers 3

THE CAST

A lot was made of Megan Fox being replaced by some Victoria Secret’s Model.  Even though most women will try to hate on the woman for being extremely hot by saying her acting is horrible, she is actually not awful.  The problem with her is that she actually looks more unrealistic as Shia LaBeouf’s girlfriend than Megan Fox did.  I prefer Megan Fox to the VSM because she has something resembling hips, but Fox at least resembled someone height appropriate for Mr. LaBeouf.  And she looked like she came from the same planet as Mr. LaBeouf (barely).  The VSM (I feel no need to learn her name because her film career is almost over unless she lets boyfriend Jason Statham impregnate her, thus guaranteeing her access to his inexplicably long lasting film career), on the other hand, looks like she could only date a billionaire or James Bond.  She is that tall, striking and foreign.  I could not even see her dating a rich athlete.  She would be the one dating the team owner.  It was laughable looking at her and Mr. LaBeouf be in a relationship.  The woman is too striking to play someone with a soul that might slum it with Mr. LaBeouf.

As for the rest of the cast, Michael Bay has replaced the notorious Autobots in blackface from Transformers 2 with another black actor for Tyrese Gibson to interact with during battle scenes.  Naturally they provide lots of “Why the Decepticons (the bad robots) have the good shit?!!!” type comments, so if you were afraid Michael Bay could not still tap the nerve of ignorant Americans who crave pathetic black dialogue, rest assured – it is still here in less offensive form than Transformers 2.

Oscar winner Frances McDormand is not awful as the token bureaucrat, but she loses her way when, like many women, she attempts to be funny.  John Malkovich and John Turturro are completely wasted and lastly, is Ken Jeong’s time almost up?  He was hilarious in his first few films, but nothing is worse than an artist who becomes self-aware of why people like him.  His cameo offers the hilarity of a small Asian man acting aggressively as well as… wait for it… a bathroom scene with Mr. LaBeouf where it appears that they have been having sex, but in actuality it’s just a big misunderstanding.  HAHAHAHA

The Robots are fine.

THE SCRIPT

Here was one of my favorite exchanges:

Guy 1: How are we going to do this?

Guy 2: We have to get closer to the pillar.

Guy 3: No, we need to get higher.

Guy 4: But we only have one shot.

It is as if the person writing the movie was unaware that there would be a camera filming the movie, which could spell out some of the action and tension.  The dialogue is atrocious in this movie.  I feel at this point they should just rename Optimus Prime George W. Bush or Ronald Reagan.  Not since Rocky IV have I seen a movie with so much overt and non-organic Patriotism (I expected Optimus to tell the Decepticons that “everyone can change”).  Tattered flags and impromptu speeches about the human spirit stand as such a forced contrast to the opening footage of the movie of genuine and justified patriotism.

THE AUDIENCE

Approximately 17 applause breaks during the movie.  I am not sure if more needs to be said, but I will continue.  I understand that seeing the first show of a sure-fire blockbuster will attract an interesting, over-zealous crowd, but this was obscene.  The crowd looked like a gay bar had children with a Game Stop, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but combining gay culture with video game store loser-enthusiasm guarantees you an 11 on the excitement scale.  But 17 applause breaks?  It literally became every slow motion action sequence (about 9) warranted an applause break, which by hour 2 of the movie expanded to every time someone said or did anything that was not completely passive or required less than four words.  But then I realized – this is the ultimate American movie!

  • The stars are non human, just like our lives are centered around eliminating human presence, from the ATM at the bank to your smart phone that you are currently buried in.
  • It never stops moving and throwing action at us to satisfy our inability to focus.
  • It is filled with token Patriotic values that make no sense, but make people feel badass and clap and cheer loudly (even though Transformers are immigrants)
  • The humor is terrible, which gets huge laughs (see CBS comedy)

In sum, the movie has great special effects, but after an incredibly long two and half hours I just wanted to get away from this dumb movie and the dumb people clapping for it.  But roughly paraphrasing A.O. Scott of the NY Times, “it is the best 3D sequel ever made about giant toy robots from outerspace.”

GRADE: C- (barely)

In re Bob Hellener

A couple of months ago I wrote a post about feature work.  For those of you who read my site, but do not know the terminology, the “feature” is the middle performer on comedy shows – a bridge from the introductory remarks of the emcee and the main event of the headliner.  The bulk of the post concerned my feelings working in and observing the comedy business across America the last few years and how I feel that the changing business model of stand up comedy will in time, have a negative impact on the quality and growth of the art of stand up comedy.  I made some forceful points, as I tend to because, although I love performing stand up comedy, I have little love for the business of stand up comedy.  Agree or disagree with me I am doing it so I have a somewhat valid first person experience to draw on when I write complaints.

Well, on the post a man named “Bob Hellener” introduced himself to me – here was his first comment:

Have you stopped to think that perhaps you haven’t gotten very far because you’re not as funny as you think you are?  There are plenty of comedians who’ve been doing comedy for much less than eight years who are setting the world on fire.

Now I approved his comment because, despite the lack of social graces in the first part I thought that maybe it was someone with a valid point to share and I did not want to censor dialogue in the name of saving face.  What then occurred was a sad man who had no outlet for his own frustrations or jealousies and he began to pour forth comments and insults with increasing hostility, never able to actually provide support or evidence for any of his statements (he still has yet to name one inexperienced comedian “setting the world on fire,” one of a dozen unsubstantiated claims he made).  Here is one of the key ones:

You have no idea who I am.  But, for purposes of this discussion, that is of no importance.  What’s truly sad, but in this case laughable, is that without changing your material one iota, you could be much more successful – artistically, financially, and by any criteria that you could want.  But instead, because of your sanctimonious, holier than thou, arrogant attitude, you will unfortunately never be able to break out of the cellar of comedy.  You clearly have a tremendous amount of time on your hands.  It’s truly unfortunate that you spend it criticizing other, highly successful artists and attempting to dictate what kind of art they should produce, instead of improving your own.  You could change your attitude, and be more successful, but you won’t.  You know too much, but not enough.  You are unteachable.  You will be gone from the comedy scene within a year.  And, quite honestly, that will be good riddance.

For a more complete idea of just how absurd this was refer to the link below:

https://jlcauvin.com/?p=2304

As the weeks went on “Bob” continued to post comments on my blogs (including posts that were already a couple of weeks old) on things ranging from my shows to my weight – it was like arguing with a teenage girl with special needs.  I then offered to meet “Bob” at a comedy show and allow him to perform to teach me the finer points of being a comedian (because you know a guy who anonymously posts on blogs certainly is brave enough to take some really exciting chances on stage).  If he did not show up, however (and this was not an invitation to violence) I promised I would spam all his future comments.  Well, he did not show up so I kept my word.  But that did not stop “Bob” from posting comments on new and old posts.  Here are some of his comments that never saw the light of day outside of my spam folder that he still insisted on posting:

“How dare you block my comments you coward!” – posted at 5:55 am on a Sunday

“Savor it because it will never happen again” – in response to my joy at having 5 great shows in Philly

I wracked my brain to figure out who it could be and most comedians kept coming up with the same name as to who Bob Hellener actually was:  a mental patient named Dan Nainan.

THE CASE AGAINST DAN NAINAN

If you are a comedian in NYC or DC or a tech company with a terrible sense of humor you probably know the name Dan Nainan.  He is a comedian who defines sour grapes.  And for the purposes of this argument I will accept all that Dan says to be true about his comedy career.  Dan is a successful corporate comedian who consistently gets paid very well by doing shows, the overwhelming majority of which appear to be for tech companies in Asia, which, as everyone knows, is a sector of the globe notorious for their sense of humor and advancement of comedy.  The reason I am aware of Dan’s exploits is because he sends comedians that he deems have insulted or offended him occasional e-mails that brag about how much he is getting paid halfway around the world to do comedy.  He is like a modern day Roman Polanski – forced into exile for raping Americans’ sense of humor.

Here are the two main topics he mentions, like a boilerplate document, in his e-mails:

  • comedians in NY are fighting for cheap spots at cocaine-riddled comedy club
  • He is living a life of luxury around the globe performing his comedy

But in a recent string of e-mails to a friend of mine he recently wrote too much.  The words read too much like a comedy villain I was all too familiar with:

My bookings in Singapore and Malaysia last week, and Dubai, Hong Kong, Trinidad, Tobago earlier this year, and India, Japan, Aruba, Netherlands, South Africa and elsewhere, have all came about because of my YouTube and my Internet presence, not because of some chimp like Roger Paul or Jason Steinberg.  Steinberg tried for a year to get me to sign with him – yeah right, pay him 15 percent of a $15,000 corporate show that he didn’t even get me, just so he can get me on Craig Ferguson.  Please. (I was on Ferguson and Hellener kept trying to diminish it)

As I’ve mentioned, my YouTube video has gotten me booked all over the United States and the globe for high-paying shows.  What do the TV credits get your friends?  Hosting spots at Wisecrackers in Scranton, Pennsylvania? Unbelievable. (I’m featuring in Scranton in August and I have the aforementioned TV credit)

For every chump like you, there are many who contact me for advice – comedy has been fantastic to me and as a result I feel the obligation to give back.  You can’t possibly imagine how many aspiring comedians I have helped.  There’s so much you don’t know about this business that you could, but you and your buddies are so closed off and you think you know everything – you know too much but not enough – you are unteachable.  Fine – less competition for me. (reads almost like a cut and paste job from the Hellener comment I posted above)

Given these quotes, among others, it is pretty damn obvious that Bob Hellener is actually Dan Nainan.  Or there are two dumb, unfunny assholes separated at birth.

He has e-mailed many other comedians using different e-mails and I guess Bob Hellener is his newest.  He signs off his e-mails “sent from my ridiculously overpriced iPad 2” – there are literally millions of teenage girls and Porsche drivers who are more secure about themselves than Dan Nainan.  If you come off as insecure to a roomful of comedians there is something truly wrong with you.  So with a guilty verdict of Dan Nainan I thought it appropriate for me to write him a victim impact statement.  It will probably not affect his sentencing because he is already an exiled comedian in America, but here it is anyway:

Dear Dan Bob Hellener Nainan,

The last couple of months you have caused me a decent amount of frustration,  first, with your inability to argue points coherently on my website because you simply had an agenda to eventually insult me and second, with your false identity.  But now that we know who you are I feel it is necessary to tell you a few things.

Comedy is an art form first, and a business second.  Every great comedian in America came up the tough way.  From Lenny Bruce to Bill Cosby to Richard Pryor to Jerry Seinfeld to Chris Rock to Louis CK to Patrice O’Neal, they all did it a certain way.  They hustled, struggled and fought their way up by simply becoming great comedians in the greatest comedy market in the world.  America may not export as much today as it once did in many industries, but in comedy we are still king.  The crucible of American comedy is not for the faint of heart.  It is frustrating and disappointing.  And I will say what you will inevitably say – I will probably not achieve the level of success I hope for.  But at least I am trying and fighting.  My ceiling is Chris Rock.  It is lofty at best and completely delusional at worst.  But you have already set your comedy ceiling at David Hasselhoff.  You have fled to foreign markets (and markets not really known for their depth or wealth of humor) to avoid being a disappointed and unsuccessful loser.  Because American comedy has already spit you out.

Perhaps you will claim to be a clean comedian and that has hurt you.  Jerry Seinfeld was clean an he did alright.

Perhaps you will say the business is too bitter and jaded to accept someone who haters call a “hack.”  Bill Engvall seems to be doing alright.

The truth is you are the worst thing a comedian can be – a coward – and no amount of money or filet mignon can change that.  You anonymously write on blogs, you’ve told the same jokes your entire career (I may have some multi-racial humor in my set, but even in my first weeks of performing comedy in 2003 I knew not to write something as awful as your “I am Indian and Japanese, so I buy my sushi at 7-11” gem), and you brag to people who are financially less secure than you (assuming you tell the truth, which is sometimes hard to believe from someone with multiple Internet identities) to validate yourself for basically becoming a corporate lackey with Power Point instead of an artist.

Your comedy reminds me of the show Alf.  I thought it was hysterical when I was young, but as I matured it turns out I no longer found it funny.  And then as more time went on I realized I did not even think it was that funny when I was young.  You have every excuse for why you are not embraced by the American comedy community but the two main ones are you are not funny and you are a terrible, possibly unstable, person.  So continue to bring up gigs or tv spots as weapons against me and other comedians who are fighting the good fight.  You wreak of sour grapes.   People openly speak about your e-mail harassment of Eddie Brill (the Letterman booker) and of Marc Maron (the booker of the WTF podcast) so don’t act like you do not want to be part of, and embraced by, the comedy community.  You just know that between your shitty routine and your cowardly form of bridge burning you never will be.

You may get paid well, you may have legions of fans in places where comedy is an afterthought and you may have the word comedian on every one of your YouTube videos, but you are no comedian.  You are a coward.  I will never mention you or your pseudonyms on anything I write ever again because I don’t want you to infect actual comedy fans as a result of something I do.  You are someone with real mental problems beyond a lame sense of humor.  Many comedians (in between bouts of laughter) have said that you have threatened them physically (from the safety of the Internet), you sent one comedian a video of you cutting a steak to prove how awesome your life is and you create false identities to criticize people.  I’d be meaner in this post but even I can recognize when someone is too pathetic to insult.

But for everyone who is still curious about Dan I will post one more thing on his behalf.  Below is the link for a mentorship/teaching offer he has for aspiring comedians.  Turns out Dan subscribes to that old saying, “Those that can’t do, teach.”

http://vocationvacations.com/DreamJobHolidays/dan-nainan.php

Movie of the Week Part 2: Bad Teacher

Bad Teacher is like an almost really good comedy that didn’t put in all the work to be really good.  As the title suggest, perhaps by accident, the movie is about 50% School of Rock and 50% Bad Santa.  It is largely enjoyable, but never feels much better than decent.

 

There is some great news about the movie though, at least for Alex Rodriguez.  There had been rumors that he and Bad Teacher star Cameron Diaz were breaking up, but they have actually been home shopping together.  My guess is that A-Rod, who is a star-fu*ker because deep down I think he wishes he was a Hollywood actress, realized that Diaz is likely to be nominated for a Golden Globe for this role and he could at least hold on until February for a chance to walk down an A-list red carpet.

Diaz is very funny, channelling her inner-Billy Bob Thornton and Jason Segel is good at doing his cool loser routine, but Justin Timberlake was not up to what could have been a funnier character.  Besides shouldn’t he record another album already?  Future Sex/Love Sound was damn good.

The plot, if you have not seen the previews, is about a teacher, whose engagement falls apart when her spouse-to-be realizes she is a gold digger and is forced to return to teaching.  Because she hates teaching she makes it her goal to bed the new substitute teacher (Timberlake), who is independently wealthy.  But to do that she feels she needs breast implants.  Various financial, incentive-based opportunities present themselves to our educating anti-hero and hilarity ensues.

The movie was only 90 minutes, but it actually felt longer than that (not Apatow long, but still a little too long).  Like many comedies, even decent ones, the movie is long on jokes, but short on a satisfying, somewhat realistic conclusion.  Movies like this feel more like expanded sitcoms, where you laugh along the way, but the conclusion wraps up far more tidy than any form of reality would allow.   But it is a comedy so it mainly accomplishes its goal, but more by making me smile a lot rather than laugh a lot.  For only $6 I am happy I saw it, but I don’t think it is worth much more than that.

Grade: B-

Movie of the Week Part I: Cars 2

It is not as bad as A Bug’s Life, but this is probably the second worst Pixar movie of all time.  Of course, that is like saying a woman is the second ugliest Playboy Playmate of all time.

The movie’s plot centers on an international racing competition, as well as a promotion for a new alternative fuel source (those green liberal pussies at Pixar!).  So I suppose to offset Red State anger at being told that cartoon cars need an alternative energy source they came together, sort of like a bipartisan solution in Congress if those existed, and made Mater (voiced by Larry The Cable Guy) the centerpiece of the movie.  Perhaps that is all it would take in Congress.  Every time the Republicans refuse to budge on any issue besides bombing brown people and lowering taxes, the Democrats bring in Larry to entertain their fears away.

I saw the movie in 3-D because of an accident by the theater and because the film is so visually excellent I guess I can endorse 3-D in this case (I’m still scarred by the awful bullsh*t 3-D of Clash of the Titans).  But if anyone is expecting another Pixar classic you will be disappointed.

Grade:  B-

Bad Teacher review tomorrow.

Game of Thrones & Onion Sports Dome: 2 Great…

The conclusion of the television season has two clear winners for best new shows.  HBO’s Game of Thrones and Comedy Central’s Onion Sports Dome.  But only one has survived.

Game of Thrones

There were a few new dramas I enjoyed this television season.  I thought Boardwalk Empire was close to excellent.  The Killing on AMC was very solid, though a little up and down and The Event, which sadly was cancelled, was the most surprising good new drama, being that it was on NBC and was attempting to evoke Lost, two big drama negatives as far as I am concerned.  There were a ton of dramas that sort of sucked (Hawaii Five-O comes to mind), but only one show this season has the quality to potentially join my upper tier of shows.  And that show is  Game of Thrones.

 

A friend of mine recently told me that if I keep comparing shows to Breaking Bad then I will never be happy.  I told him, we should assume that I am unhappy to begin with so comparing things to Breaking Bad will not increase or decrease my happiness.  Just like I now compare comic book movies to The Dark Knight, I will always compare dramas on television to my Top 5 dramas (Six Feet Under, The Wire, Breaking Bad, The Sopranos and The West Wing).  That is why shows like Sons of Anarchy or Dexter, although much better than its premiere season over the years, will always be entertaining distractions, because they lack the gravitas and quality of the Top 5.

Game of Thrones had a few things working against it before it started.  It struck me as something of a cross between Rome (HBO’s well done, but too expensive two season drama) and True Blood.   I was afraid that Game of Thrones could easily go the route of Rome, which seemed to have as its goal to appeal directly to the id of heterosexual males and sacrifice some of the quality of the story (for the most perverse example of this please Netflix Spartacus: Blood and Sand – the worst drama I have ever seen).  Similarly, True Blood, which for me has been on a rapid decline since a very strong first season, seems to be geared towards the id of young women and gay men.  For both shows it felt like the shows did excessive focus group work after initial success and realized respectively, “hey dudes dig tits and blood” and “chicks and gay dudes like pecs, androgony and excessive smoldering looks.”  If I want tits and blood I will go back to dating on Craig’s List.  But for quality television I demand more.

So the test for Game of Thrones, which certainly had its share of gratuitous nudity and violence (two horses beheaded – take that Godfather, and a 10 year old breast feeding – how is that not child pornography?), but it was also the best fantasy epic  piece of entertainment since The Lord of the Rings.  The show is beautiful, the cast is without weak spots and the story has held no character sacred or untouchable (not to mention the opening score is Last of the Mohicans-esque awesome).  Although a show needs at least three seasons before it can make the “Shows J-L Incessantly Praises While No One Listens” list, Game of Thrones has made a strong statement with its first season.  But it has to tread carefully now.  Because on either side of the fine line it has drawn is an HBO show that lost its way.

Onion Sports Dome

I was convinced that Onion Sports Dome had the potential to join Arrested Development and Eastbound and Down as the Holy Spirit in my trilogy of great comedies of the last ten years.  It did what I always want a comedy to do – it compromised nothing.  The humor was sophisticated and clever and it was coupled with an intimate knowledge of sports.  In other words – if you like comedy and know sports it was nothing short of brilliant.  If you didn’t possess one of these qualities then the show was not made for you.  Unfortunately ratings were not strong and the show has not been picked up for a second season.  Neither was Norm MacDonald’s Sports Show, but that is no great loss.  The people who praise MacDonald’s show all seem to be pre-existing Normphiles.  The truth is the show was not that good, except for the first episode.  Onion Sports Dome, however, is a major loss.  Every episode (except the first, which I thought was mediocre) was an A+.  But in an industry that is constantly on the lookout for the next twelve Zach Galifianakis look-a-likes yelling non-sequiturs in funny voices, I guess I should have known a brilliant, hilarious, sports-themed comedy show would be DOA.  The comedy business is revenge on jocks, not a celebration of them, even if in jest.

Well at least the geeks and me can agree on Game of Thrones.