From Celebration to Hi-Tech Lynching: The Reverse Sports Comedy…

Most sports comedies start with some sort of historical context, either real of fictional, dealing with some sort of tragedy or woe that has befallen a team or city.  Then the team gets together and commits a series of blunders and near successes.  Then after some magical moment, of either forced racial harmony or the emergence of a collective enemy to rally against, the team begins to play well.  In a series of montages, with some humor, the team begins to play great with each member showcasing the specific talent that they had shown potential for all along.  By the conclusion of the movie there is some obstacle that the team must overcome and thanks to some clutch performance the team achieves their goal and has a big celebration.  Major League is the best example of this, both because it follows the formula perfectly and for extra irony, took place in Cleveland, the city Lebron James left.

With the conclusion of the NBA Finals last night it became clear to me that the Miami Heat’s season was literally the reversal of a sports comedy.  And LeBron James was the star.

Before examining the most fascinating story line in the NBA since Magic Johnson announced that he had HIV, some credit needs to be given to the Dallas Mavericks.  And me.  I had had a big debate with Knick fan friends about the future of the NBA.  They all panicked with the advent of the Big 3 in Miami and declared that the NBA was now exlusively a superstar arms race.  Ignoring teams like the 2003 Spurs and the 2004 Detroit Pistons, my friends assured me that the Knicks, built around Amar’e Stoudemire with a slew of potential super role players could not compete in the NBA and that the acquisition of Carmelo Anthony for half of their roster was necessary.  What followed was the disappearance of Amar’e Stoudemire and an early exit for the NY Knicks.  If one team has the two best individual players (Wade and Lebron) in the game it makes no sense to try to out-star power them.  The Mavericks have proven that the Hakeem Olajuwon/early Tim Duncan model can work.  Get a dominant superstar and build super role players around him.  This is a great tribute to Dirk Nowitzki’s will and talent and a relief to NBA fans who were afraid that the league would automatically become 6 super teams and a bunch of teams wasting their time.  But back to the anti-sports comedy.

The Beginning Is The End

So after The Decision, which apparently now outranks OJ murdering his ex wife and a waiter as the worst crime ever committed by an athlete if one reads the Twitter feeds of most basketball fans, the Heat had a celebration in front of their fans in Miami.  This was obviously premature being that it was the first, rather than the last, thing they did as a group (the Big 3 at least).  By the way, if you Google “The Decision,” the first result is Lebron James’ announcement.  The second is “the decision to drop the atomic bomb.”  This could not more perfectly illustrate America’s misplaced priorities and anger towards Lebron.

Tough Finish Is Tough Start Instead

The Heat went 9-8 in their first 17 games, much to the glee of most NBA fans.  In the proper order of a sports comedy this would be the tense finish, barely eeking out a victory in the end.  Instead they struggled to open the season and despair seemed to be reigning in Miami.  Dwayne Wade was injured (sports comedies often have a late injury that forces everyone else to step up their game, so naturally the reverse has an early injury), which also led to their early struggles.

The Success Montage

This part of the film would basically last from late December to the beginning of June.  It would show the Heat rolling, there might be some comedy clips of Joel Anthony hitting free throws, as the audience laughs and says, “Hahahaha – even THAT guy is doing work!”  LeBron and Wade would provide oohhh and ahhhhh moments for the audience.  The only difference is that in the sports film the montage would start with a big win against Dallas and then end with a thrashing of the champion Lakers, leading to the tense, final third of the movie.  Instead, this montage began with a Christmas win against the Lakers and finished with a solid win against the Mavericks in Game 3 of the NBA Finals.

The Rick Vaughn In Reverse Moment

In the aforementioned Major League, a major turning point for the Indians is when their talented, but erratic pitcher, Rick Vaughn, finally learns that he needs glasses.  From that moment on, he meets his potential and dominates.  But before that moment he is a bumbling idiot and it is not clear why.  That was LeBron James in the last three games of the playoffs.  It was an inexplicable display on par with Vaughn, who could throw 100mph, but was nowhere near the plate.  Whether you hate him or love him, the fact is Lebron had delivered tremendous performances both consistent and clutch for the first three rounds of the playoffs.  He even played well in the first three games of the NBA Finals.  And then, in this reverse sports comedy, he lost his metaphorical glasses.  It did not look like someone quitting consciously.  It looked more inexplicable.  Like someone stole his soul.   Meanwhile the last three games became worse and worse displays by the Heat that would have been comedic if they weren’t so sad.  Too many passes, too much Mario Chalmers, too much celebrating by Deshawn Stevenson (in a sports comedy a doofus like Stevenson would open the movie talking garbage and then get served late in the movie or at least during the heroic montage part), Dwyane Wade dribbling off his foot, Chris Bosh crying (hey at least he cares), etc.

The Historical Tragedy Is Epilogue, Not Prologue

I have maintained throughout this whole Heat spectacle, but I wanted Lebron to stay in Cleveland.  Everyone likes the hometown hero story.  And Cleveland has had it tough with their sports teams.  And the city felt betrayed.  I famously wrote (famous meaning to the 13 people who read the post) that I would root for Kobe this year, which was up until The Decision was unimaginable to me.  But then three things happened.  One, I watched Kobe again and realized he’s Diet Jordan and it is impossible for me to be a fan of a cover band with a rape allegation.  Two, NY Knick fans, who surround me, were the most awful people in the Lebron fiasco.  They were ready to suck Cleveland’s soul as long as Lebron came to NYC.  But when he opted for South Beach, Knick fans became the most self-righteous bunch of fans in America.  Hypocrisy reigned supreme in NYC.  Much like the steroid scandal in baseball, America, led by the NY fan base, had turned into a bunch of people who could not wait to trash someone else.  America is a bunch of cheats, whether it is on your spouse, your taxes or your math test, but show us some people living a life we are jealous of and we will annihilate them once they don’t live up to standards we don’t hold ourselves to.

As a friend mentioned to me yesterday, how many people have left Cleveland for better cities or better job opportunities that were born there?  I know comedians from Cleveland.  Could you not make it on to Letterman while living in Cleveland?  Why not?  There are clubs and open mics in Cleveland.  Maybe you should have just worked harder.  An interesting point in the very least.  But Lebron got to go to South Beach with his buddies and live a dream life.  So we went overboard.  And that is the third thing that cemented me rooting for Lebron again.  The hi-tech lynching that occurred.

Yes, I know I am using the term made infamous by Clarence Thomas in his 1991 confirmation hearings, but in this case it is actually true.  Lebron did one thing that annoyed people – he had a television special to announce that he was going to Miami.  He did not murder anyone.  He did not rape anyone.  He did not take drugs.  He made one decision and handled it in a less than gracious manner.  What he incurred (speaking to everyone not in or from Cleveland), however, was on par with the Tea Party’s response to President Obama.  Following on Facebook and Twitter, people who I never knew even knew what basketball was or had ever made a comment about sports, let alone basketball, were all too ready to bash LeBron James and wish ill will upon him.  It felt like a cyber posse that became a cyber lynch mob – people just seemed to know that they were supposed to hate Lebron.  And about 1% of the comments I read were from people in Cleveland.

And this is not just how some people hate on brash wide receivers in football for being cocky (and backlash). This was deeper and angrier.  Something about LeBron has made Americans angrier than they should be.  Is it the fact that he has been blessed with gifts that we will never have and he doesn’t use them to their full capacity?  That is what bothers me or at least perplexes me.  I feel like watching Lebron is like watching a superhero who sometimes randomly decides that he doesn’t want to be a superhero.  Is it the fact that a young, rich black man held the NBA hostage with a televised special, foolishly wielding his power without realizing the backlash that would ensue?  Will there be the same hatred and bile for the whole league and the vast majority of white owners when they manifest a lockout next season?  Or is that fair business?  And to be fair the hatred is not just from white people, the same way black cops can mistreat black suspects.  But it is unlike anything a white athlete has ever faced.

Even today, his post-game press conference remarks are being twisted and turned into some sort of “I’m rich and you’re poor” sour grapes speech, which seems to be a stretch to say the least.  But maybe this is just part of the American pop culture playbook.  We built up a high school athlete because he had incredible talent.  Then we begin tearing him down as an arrogant Frankenstein that if true, means we bear significant responsibility in creating his image.  Now all that is left is the redemption story.  But judging from past examples, only history will view him more favorably.

That is, unless he shows that has learned his “proper place,” but after seeing this season in action and the vitriol spewed last night against him, hopefully he never learns it.

Movie of the Week Part 2: The Trip

There are some movies that are so good at showcasing an individual performer that I become an irrationally loyal fan of that person.   School of Rock with Jack Black would be a great example of that.  Another example would be Hamlet 2 and its star Steve Coogan.  A British comedy actor, he is a little better known as the director in Tropic Thunder and a corrupt business man in The Other Guys.   But Hamlet 2 was one of the funniest movies I have ever seen and his performance was off the charts great.  So I was happy to hear good things about his newest starring vehicle The Trip.

The film centers around two actors playing themselves (Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon) going on a food tour of England because Steve is writing some article for some publication.  The food tour is really just a chance to explore the two different personalities of these two actors on a road trip.  They are constantly battling each other for who is the better actor, singer, and impersonator of Michael Caine and James Bond.  The movie felt like Sideways to me, but a lot more funny and a lot less pretentious.

The movie should appeal greatly to anyone who has ever been on a road trip with comedians, but I believe it will appeal well beyond that.  It also explores the different dynamic between a performer who is happy with his life and career and one who seems destined to undermine his potential through perpetual dissatisfaction.  Coogan and Brydon are both great as the unhappy and happy, respectively.

The movie is funny and seems to build in humor the more intimately you know the characters.  By the end of it you feel like you have been on a trip with two funny and fun guys, with all the enjoyment and annoyance that brings.

Grade: A-

Movie of the Week Part I: Super 8

JJ Abrams is best known as the creator and intellectual cock tease behind one of television’s most overrated shows of all time -Lost, which also described the writing style of the show after the first season.  Lost was basically a ponzi scheme for the brain.  Instead of delivering on many of the secrets and teases in each episode it merely kept doubling down, promising more and more to deflect from the fact that it could not possibly have satsifying answers and returns on the investment people had made in the show.  That’s right, JJ Abrams was the Bernie Madoff of television.

But movies for JJ Abrams have actually been more satisfying.  I enjoyed Cloverfield and was pleasantly surprised by the Star Trek reboot.  Mission Impossible 3 was not good, but as Meat Loaf said, two out of three ain’t bad.  So with Super 8 coming out I felt confident that it would be more Cloverfield and less mystery island.  Well, it is both.

The movie, which follows a group of kids who are making a film on their Super 8 camera, who then witness a devastating train wreck (the standard for great train wreck scenes is The Fugitive – this one is loud and overbearing – it feels like the train had about 200 cars all which exploded in CGI glory.  All I was struck by watching the first hour of the movie, which was entertaining, thought the humor only felt one grade above Michael Bay-level shtick, was how JJ Abrams was making an homage to Spielberg movies, largely ET with a touch of Close Encounters of the Third Kind.  But it sort of feels like going one step beyond homage.  It feels like someone who is mildly obsessed – like instead of Single White Female, JJ Abrams could star in Married Jewish Filmmaker.

The movie goes along revealing little details about the mysterious creature/government secret/alien/etc. that appears to be wreaking havoc on the small town that is being policed by Coach Eric Taylor of Friday Night Lights.  But as the movie reaches its conclusion all the things I hoped for came crashing down in a Lost-like ending.  The last ten minutes of the movie are incredibly disappointing.   Like Lost, the movie gets you excited because it is making promises, that although difficult to deliver, will be outstanding IF delivered.  But then, like Lost, the movie produces a highly mediocre and tidy ending to wrap up the film under two hours.  It is like JJ Abrams is Hollywood’s version of LeBron James in these NBA Finals – he awes you with all the promise and flash of talent and then when it is time to finish the job he sort of vacates and looks for a quick and unsatisfying conclusion.

Maybe JJ Abrams should review his Spielberg movies again, because he knew how to start and finish a movie.

Grade – C+

Allentown Brew Works – A Special Father’s Day Message

Last night was a one-night gig at Allentown Brew Works in… you guessed it – Allentown, PA.  It was a typically glamorous gig – round trip bus ride with knees feeling like a 40 year old Major League Baseball catcher’s after each trip, 4 hours sleep on a friend’s couch, a Dunkin’ Donuts breakfast feast.  But amidst this is a new bit that I am happy with, so I will leave you with part of my set, which could have been a Father’s Day blog, but instead will live on with dozens of YouTube hits.  Enjoy:

Weinergate

Of Bill Clinton, Eliot Spitzer and Anthony Weiner I think only one of these Democrat’s actions were shameful for their office.  All three acted inappropriately and have earned ire from their spouses.  But at least Clinton and Spitzer acted like adults.  Bad adults, but adults nonetheless.   We live in an increasingly juvenile state of adulthood (guilty as charged here), but at least if our politicians are going to continue to disappoint us, it would be nice if they did it in an adult fashion.  Have sex with  groupie-colleagues (Clinton), have sex with high priced escorts (Spitzer), but tweeting pictures?  Our politicians cannot respect the office they have been given, but they can at least respect our sense of what kind of lewd behavior they should engage in.

I would vote for Eliot Spitzer today, but I am not sure I would vote for Weiner.  Obviously Weiner’s conduct was far less egregious than Spitzer’s, but it was also old school.  A busy man like Spitzer was being efficient and trying to use discretion (when these guys use escorts they are paying less for the quality of the women, although usually high quality, and more for the guarantee of discretion) to protect his family’s sensibilities, even if he was sacrificing their integrity.  On the other hand Anthony Weiner is a Congressman, but had half a dozen Twitter relationships? That is brazen and time consuming.  Have you no sense of decency?  American values are no longer about being a good person. It’s “be a piece of sh*t in private.”  Weiner violated that sacred trust we as a nation hold so dearly.

America seems destined to be some sort of mentally challenged version of Europe when it comes to sex.  We are becoming more and more immune to sexual impropriety, which we think demonstrates some sort of intellectual sophistication, but at the same time becoming more and more distasteful and lewd in the conduct we expose ourselves too.  We seem to accept that celebrities and people of power, almost always men, will engage in tawdry behavior.  But if we are headed down that road I think we should have some guidelines.  If you are a person of fame or power then it should be as Uncle Ben said in Spider Man, “with great access to pussy comes great responsibility.”  For the extra vagina that will come your way you should be able to comfortably offset that by limiting the public access of your indiscretions.  And Weiner violated this as badly as one could – via Twitter, the 21st Century’s Town Cryer.

And I know this is a lame point, but if your name is Weiner you really should be on guard to always guard your penis privacy.  For example, if my name was John Rape I would get written consent every time I had sex with a woman. Just to be safe.  Even if it was pronounced RaPAY.

So I am not morally outraged by Weiner’s conduct in any way.  It just feels sort of insulting.  A private citizen can be as stupid as they want on social media, but a politician should have the decency to mess around with skanks in private.  That is the America I believe in.

Movie of the Week: X-Men First Class

I just got back from the first truly excellent movie of the Summer (please calm down fans of Bridesmaids and Midnight In Paris, both of which I enjoyed, but not as much as X-Men: First Class).  I was not sure about X-Men: First Class, mainly because the trend established by the extremely disappointing X-Men 3 and the crime against humanity that was X-Men Origins: Wolverine seemed to indicate that a 5th X-Men film would lead to mass suicide.  Instead it is a near-perfect Summer movie.  There will be no spoilers in this review, but here is the general breakdown of my X-Men experience:

Kips Bay 10:45 am: The Prelude

I arrived at the theater at 10:45 and the good news for the makers of the movie is that the theater was nearly packed, which I rarely see for the pre-noon $6 movies at AMC Theaters.  As the lights came down I was nervous about the crowd.  A young woman in the back row was texting and some older man yelled, “Turn that fu*king thing off!” To which she replied, “Hey, there are little children present,” speaking of the young children with her.  She was right, but I was fixated on the old man who appeared to be the Ghost of J-L Future.  And by future I mean me at the next movie I see.

As if the rumble behind me was not enough, to my right was a woman who shockingly turned off her phone before the movie began.  I say shockingly because, much like Austin Powers after he was unfrozen, she had no inner-monologue.  She spoke during every preview to herself and approximately every 3 minutes during the movie.  But I think she may have had some mild cognitive impairment (or was just sort of dumb) so I only threw one soda at her to try and make her shut up.

Lastly, before the movie began, I saw a preview for Rise of the Planet of the Apes, which is now my most anticipated movie of the Summer (no offense Transformers 3 and your Birth of a Nation portrayal of black men-inspired robots). Here is the preview:

So after hearing an old man curse out a young mom in front of her kids, sitting next to a woman who could not shut up and seeing a preview about apes taking over the world it was time for X Men.

The Main Event: X-Men First Class

For my money the greatest movie I have ever seen in a Summer is The Dark Knight.  It worked on any level – as a great film that could have been released during Oscar season or as a great popcorn Summer film experience.  X-Men: First Class is not at that level, but it still scores very high as a Summer movie.  And it is a good movie overall, but my effusive praise for it must be considered relatively.  That said,  it is the best movie of the Summer so far and I don’t think second place is close.

The movie delivers everything you want from a Summer movie and it delivers it well.  The acting is very good across the board, the effects are big and exciting, there are funny cameos and funny dialogue, neither of which feel forced or cheesy (contrast this to the humor found in most moments of the Transformer films).  Additionally, as expected, there are origin stories, which always make first installments of superhero movies fun (contrast this to one of the things I hated about Thor – it told his origin of how he came to Earth, but not how he got jacked (P90X?) and how his hammer became the baddest weapon in the universe).  And lastly X-Men: First Class has training montages, which any fan of Rocky IV can tell you make for fun viewing:

The stand outs

The cast is loaded with both stars and people that you will go – “Oh that guy/girl is in this too?!”  But there are three that stand out for me.  James McAvoy is great as the young Charles Xavier, Jennifer Lawrence, Oscar nominee from Winter’s Bone, is great as Mystique, mainly because it is just a matter of time before she is named Esquire’s sexiest woman alive.

And lastly, Michael Fassbender is the dominant force in the movie as the man who becomes Magneto.  He literally looks like Don Draper if Don Draper gave up cigarettes and booze for a personal trainer and a GNC.  He dominates the screen and has the most depth of any character in the movie (besides seeing how the villain becomes the villain is always great).  Sadly, his accent becomes very inconsistent in the last half hour of the movie, which was sort of disappointing given how great he was for most of the movie.

The only negative in the movie is the jumping from location to location in the first hour of the movie is a little cluttered.  It feels like there are about 17 different locations in the first 40 minutes of the movie.  The jumping around does not make the film confusing, but rather, gives the early moments a slightly cheap feeling, as if someone was trying to make shortcuts in the screenplay.

Overall, if you are a fan of superhero movies, summer blockbusters or well-made action movies I find it hard to believe that you will leave disappointed.  Grade: A-

L Train Adventures: Bible Thumper, Gaytheist & Shakespeare

Last night I had a show in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, which meant taking the L Train.  I have been on the L train many times and they were all uneventful (they even were generally void of homeless A Capella groups, black teens selling “M & M Peanut,” and Mexican bands with accordions).  Until yesterday.

L Train Adventure Part 1 – Bible Thumper vs. Shrill Gay Guy (“Gaytheist”)

At 740 pm I hopped on the L train at 1st Avenue and entering right behind me was  a young black woman with a book.  The Good Book.  She stood right next to me by the center of the train and said, “Good evening ladies and gentlemen,” and then began reading aloud from the Book of Revelations.  After a few minutes she sort of became white noise, but then my ears perked up when she began speaking of unnatural acts.  When she said “men began doing unnatural acts with other men,” I looked up for signs of a shrill gay man to start arguing with her.  And about ten seconds after I looked up, right on cue, a chubby gay man began yelling at her in a shrill voice.  Central casting could not have provided a better gay man – chubby, purple shirt, goatee, more lispy than Sylvester the Cat and a self-righteous atheist.  Here is a recreation of that event:

Sylvester:  Excussssssssssse me. Please ssssssssstop reading your book out loud.

Scripture lady: (Reading Bible out loud.)

Sylvester: Thissssssss isssssss rude and I would like you to sssssssstop reading.

Scripture Lady: (Reading Bible out loud.)

Sylvester: Excusssssssse me, excusssssssse me, excusssssssssse me – you are bothering me and I want you to sssssstop reading!

Scripture Lady: (Begins reading Bible slightly louder)

Sylvester: Excusssssssse me – you are not a good Chrisssssstian.  Is that what a good Chrissssssstian does when ssssssssomeone is speaking to you?  You ignore them?  You are a horrible Chrissssssssstian

J-L inner thought: What does a woman ignoring a shrill man yelling at them have to do with being a good Christian?

Scripture Lady: (Still reading louder version of the Bible.)

Sylvester: I can ssssssssspeak louder too.  I can do thisssssssss because I won’t stop until you sssssssstop you hypocrite.  You terrible Chrisssssssssstian.  I don’t believe in your book, but I do know that you are a terrible Chrisssssssstian.

Scripture Lady: (Still reading loud version of the Bible)

Sylvester: No one wants to hear thissssssss.  I don’t believe in your book and no one on this train doesssssss and it is a book of bullsh*t and I want you to ssssssssstop reading it.

J-L inner thought:  You know what.  Fu*k this dude.  Keep reading.

Sylvester: It’s a ssssssssssstupid book and you are annoying everyone.

Scripture Lady: (still reading Bible, now at normal volume again.)

At this point two different women asked the gay man to shut up.

Sylvester: My ssssssstop is next, but this issssssss rude and I want her to stop reading her ssssssssstupid book.

J-L inner thought: My stop is next.  Anyway this could continue for a few minutes longer?

And then I got off the train and it was over.  So I learned a few things on my trip.

  1. Loud Bible thumpers are annoying
  2. Shrill, flaming dudes who think they have a point to make – more annoying.
  3. Bible woman started badly, but eventually won the battle simply by never responding or looking at Sylvester and by not being an angry version of Nathan Lane.

Intermission

I did a 10 minute set in the backyard of a Brooklyn restaurant.  I received several laughs over the sound of cars travelling along the highway that was about 40 yards from the performance space.  Then I went back to the L Train for more unexpected adventures:

L Train Adventure Part 2 – Shakespeare on the Train

As the doors closed on the L Train a man began quoting Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet.  He was wearing a t shirt, shorts and knee and elbow pads, in other words, traditional Shakespearean garb.  And after his first few lines, a shout from the other end of the train from a similarly dressed man.  As I learned after it was Act V, Scene 3 of the play.  It took about six stops for them to act it out, including using the woman sitting next to me as an embarrassed, but flattered Juliet.  Then the train applauded and gave them donations.

All I could think was, “this is why Brooklyn is a pack of hipster douchebags.”  The people that dig this are the same people who “like” jazz music, and make a point to watch street performers and buy crappy goods at street markets.  Yes, we are sooooo cool because only in NY can you get Shakespeare on a train.  And the L train is also the train line, featured in the NY Times a few weeks ago, because occasionally impromptu dinner service happens on the train.  What a precious, hipster heaven of “only in NY!”

But what was most remarkable about the Shakespeare performance was that the woman who had been picked as Juliet had the “I would fu*k those guys” glow on her face the rest of the train ride.  So now I have to adjust my rankings of respected/lusted after artists:

  1. Musicians (with Rock Stars being on top)
  2. Actors
  3. Writers
  4. Shakespearean Train Actors
  5. Courtroom sketch artists
  6. Comedians
  7. Def Poets

Thank God for the def poets.  And thank God for shrill, gay atheists.

Not Their Brother’s Keeper – Black on Black Comedy…

I have written a few times on the experience (and pitfalls) of being an opening comedian.  When it comes to headliners there are those that like to have strong opening acts (the best example I can think of is how Seinfeld had Brian Regan open for him during a run on Broadway several years ago), those that like weak openers (these are the headliners who despite fame, or a loyal fan base, still cannot have a strong opener for fear that they will be crushed, even when it is unlikely), and those that don’t allow black comedians to open for them.

Yes, hopefully that third one startled you.

I learned about this phenomenon (but apparently not something that has just emerged in the last 12 months when I became aware of it) when an owner of a club wanted to use me as a test case (sort of a Plessy v. Ferguson of comedy) last year.  Knowing that I was half-black, but not very obvious to the untrained eye, he wondered if I could be acceptable despite a contract that specifically stated that there were to be no other black comedians on the lineup.  It never happened, but I have heard of at least one other fairly prominent black comedian who specifically requests no other black comedians on their lineup.  So 60 years ago I would have been trying to “pass” as white to drink at a water fountain, now it is a question of whether I can “pass” to open up for some self-hating brothers.  Sort of like a passive aggressive way of fulfilling Martin Luther King’s dream.

Now, mind you, this is not someone asking that a particular style of comedians is off limits (perhaps you don’t want a Def Jam style comedian because you don’t like that style, or think it would be redundant, or don’t think it would mesh with your show, but that would not preclude many other black comedians). These are black comedians who have achieved success and want to prevent other black comedians from sharing in it.  In some cases, if in front of a largely black crowd, they want to make sure no other comics get any of “their love” from “their people.”  In other cases, in whiter crowds, they want to make sure they get 100% of the “soul bounce” (the soul bounce is my term for the automatic love white crowds give a black comedian just for being black across much of this country).  Who knows how many examples there actually are, but if two relatively prominent comedians do it, that means comedy clubs are willing collectively to accept between 40 and 60 weeks of performances from comedians who are discriminating based solely on skin color.  And that is just assuming it is only two.

The fact that comedians who employ this blatant discrimination (these guys would have probably been African chiefs selling their people to slave traders centuries back) are still in demand and hired by clubs is just another example of the almighty buck triumphing over any sense of decency.  Kramer may have called a couple of black guys niggers, but I believe he is not 1/10th the piece of shit these comedians are.  But if they can make a club an extra $5,000 per weekend they perform so what if they are discriminating against and trying to hold down black comics (and the stories are never about titans like Dave Chappelle or Chris Rock – they’re about B Team players, which makes putting up with their bullsh*t even less pragmatic, if solely thinking from a business perspective)?  If a white comedian banned black comics from his shows there would be outrage, and simultaneously there would be anger if a black comic banned white comics from his shows, but there is no reaction from a black comic banning black comics?  It reminds me of the meeting in The Godfather where one of the Dons says to keep the drug trade in “the dark people – they’re animals anyway.  Let them lose their souls.”

The comedy business once again proves that it is already one step ahead.

Battle of the Number Twos: Kung Fu Panda vs.…

This weekend is a major showdown at the box office between two highly anticipated sequels (at least for me who appreciates both drunken adult comedies and the adventures of fat, animated panda bears.  Both Kung Fu Panda and The Hangover were surprise smash hits, each earning over $200 million domestically, which means both have incredible potential to fail miserably in their second efforts.  So here’s the breakdown from what I saw.

Kung Fu Panda 2

I first must disclose that I am a huge fan of Jack Black (I even looked favorably on Gulliver’s Travels) so that needs to be taken into account with any assessment I offer of a Jack Black film.  I loved the first Kung Fu Panda, but because KFP is not a Pixar film, but rather a Dreamworks film, I was wary of their ability to maintain the first film’s level of quality (after all they took Shrek from a classic first installment into a piece of total sh*t by the third film, thus ensuring that I would never see the 4th and final Shrek).

I got to the theater Thursday night and it was only about 40% full, almost entirely made up of Asians, with more Asians following me in.  I did not realize Kung Fu Panda was such a niche film, but I felt like I was sitting at the Asian table in a high school cafeteria.

The movie was solid, but unlike the first film this one was a majority action-oriented.  The first film was so good because, although it had a few well done action sequences, the bulk of the film was the joy of seeing Jack Black’s wit and energy translated into a giant animated panda.  The second film sort of reverses the ratio as Po, the main character, searches for answers to his birth origins, while trying to stop an evil peacock from taking over China (you aren’t sold yet?).  In animation, because anything is possible as long as you can draw/design it, it is less impressive to me to make an action packed animated movie, than to make a truly witty and intelligent animated movie.

The movie is still solid, but it is not nearly the same level as the first, despite having Jean Claude Van Damme voice one of the characters.  And given the lessons of the film, if you are a Dad with young kids, it will make a decent early father’s day trip, especially if they are not biologically yours.

Grade: B-

 

The Hangover Part 2

This movie had me laughing steadily throughout, but with about 20 minutes to go it dawned on me that the reviews I had read were spot on – the movie is identical to the first one.  So much so, that it feels as if the screenwriters just cut and pasted the original screenplay and then changed names, locations and drugs.  It is a slightly more outrageous film than the first and on its own very funny.  However, it feels slightly cheap when you realize how easy the movie must have been to write (Thailand and missing brother in law replace Vegas and missing groom as the only two substantive differences).  But judging by the previews for all the frat bro films coming out this Summer, it appears that The Hangover is spurring on other filmmakers to create their own original take on Hangover-style comedies, even if The Hangover people are being lazy about it.

Grade: B

The Cape & Scotty McCreery – Ruining My TV…

Last night I watched the season finale of The Event.  It was one of the few new shows I made it through this season and I was very happy with it (the other two were Onion Sports Dome on Comedy Central, which was better and FX’s Lights Out, which I would rate below The Event, but was still solid).  Game of Thrones is only halfway through its first season, but that appears to be the rival with Onion Sports Dome for my favorite new show of this television season (and last one –  The Killing is quite good as well to round out the top 5).  But at best only 60% of my favorite new shows will be back.  And The Event is not one of them.

I think we all know who is to blame for The Event not being renewed.

The Cape.

The Event had it all going – some solid star power, science fiction, 24-esque action-drama.  It wasn’t perfect, but it was very very good.  It drew some comparisons to Lost because of the mystery aspects to the story, but unlike Lost, The Event did not make promises it could not (and would not) keep.  It is easy for shows like Lost to offer the world, but disappointment is assured then when it only delivers Rhode Island.  For a bait and switch like that, you feel more cheated out of your time because you believed it would wrap up its bigger promises.  By contrast, The Event promised smaller, but was so far, delivering on it.  For example, in the first couple of episodes it is revealed that the adversaries are actually aliens.  Now if that is not your bag, I understand, but at least they did not string it along for seasons and then cop out with, “Oh and by the way, they’re aliens,” which would have felt more Lost-like to me.  But then late winter NBC decided to pause The Event and use the time slot to offer several episodes of perhaps the worst show ever made.

The Cape.

The Cape was the equivalent of being up 5 in the third quarter of a playoff basketball game and then inserting your ball boy for the next 9 minutes of the game in place of your second best player.  It was an epic failure, from weak acting, weaker plots, and special effects so weak I think “special” was being used ironically or to indicate an actual handicap.

So when The Cape experiment failed it did not only fail itself it failed The Event too.  I had been an enthusiast of The Event and even I needed a couple of episodes to get back into it again this Spring.  But by then the fate of The Event had been sealed and it was to be cancelled after the first season finale.  The Cape may have actually been television’s first suicide bomber.  It was not content enough to be irrelevant and miserable so instead it took out The Event just for standing too close.

So last night was the final episode of The Event and it was actually an excellent season finale – so if it ever comes out on DVD – it is worth a rental.  However, The Event’s demise is only a sad prologue to the possible ascension of Scotty McCreery as American Idol on Wednesday night.

Scotty McCreery is the 17 year old country singer from North Carolina who manages to juxtapose increasingly prominent cross wearing (seriously, I have no problem with religion, but given his trend of increasing his religious and cross prominence in his performances I expect him to be crucified on stage by his third song tonight) with the scumbag smirk of a investment banker that just fu*ked your pension fund and daughter simultaneously.  Granted, the kid has an impressive voice that is sort of comically low, especially when you consider it is coming out of someone who is a dead ringer for Alfred E. Neuman (or What Me Worry for my older readers).

Scotty will be competing with Lauren Alaina, who is a 16 year old girl going on 39 who sings more “fun” country music, versus Scotty’s more traditional country crooning.  Now from a business perspective I understand why American Idol would be happy to have these two goobers in the finals.  Their biggest selling winner ever is Carrie Underwood, which makes sense because the people most likely to buy records today are poor (i.e., less access to computers).  That is just my theory, but by and large the CDs that I have seen top the charts over the last 5-10 years, barring some huge release, tend to be rap and country: poor black people and poor white people are less likely to download onto iTunes.  So without a hip hop category for American Idol, country is the safe route to go.

I had actually assumed that adding Internet voting might diminish the country vote on American Idol (the way adding a non-incest requirement to vote might have as well), but they have delivered a 1-2 punch of syrupy, awww shucks-ness to tonight and Wednesday’s two-part finale.  The final three should have been Pia Toscano, James Durbin and Haley Reinhart, but none of these singers could have given middle and southern America the 1883 feeling that they still had a say in this country.  Pia was Italian, but probably resembled a hot Latin woman to too many voters (immigration concerns), James’s high pitch vocals had to have reminded America of Adam Lambert (gays are a no no) and Haley Reinhart – perhaps the name sounded Jewish (I have no idea if she is)?  Whatever the reason, they may want to change the title of the show officially to Middle & Southern American Idol or perhaps “Singers To Take Your Mind Off Of Having A Muslim President.”

And if the news wasn’t good enough for these folks, I am sure they are esctatic that Tim Allen has another sitcom coming this Fall.