Saturday, December 30, 2006

Lucas.

One of the best movies I saw in '86 was Lucas - a delightful story about the titular insect-loving geek (Corey Haim), the friendly girl he fancies (Kerri Green, whose subsequent career hasn't been as healthy as Courtney Thorne-Smith or Winona Ryder, both also in this flick) and the jock who's his supporter (Charlie Sheen). More sensitive than most teen movies, and also less song-driven than most of 'em; instead the movie went with a synth score from Dave Grusin... which probably explains why there wasn't a soundtrack album out at the time, but I taped off the main and end titles, and the rest of it got put out by Varese Sarabande's CD Club this year. It's very '80s, and unlike Jerry Goldsmith's Runaway it can't resist the bid to try and electronically duplicate acoustic instruments (of the brass variety), but the laid-back guitars and quiet keyboards reduce the fromage content considerably, and when you add Grusin's veteran compositional skills (he's been scoring movies since the late '60s, though not so much recently) it's vastly superior to yet another collection of songs, and a lot better than most synthesized scores. The peppy end credits appear twice (the other time as "In The Shower"), but I'm not complaining. Bold tracks have soundclips.

1. Main Title (2:43)
2. Lucas (1:04)

3. Maggie Drives Off (:44)
4. Montage (1:03)
5. Someone To Make Fun Of (:39)
6. Like A Hugh M & N (:36)
7. Because You're Nice To Him (2:11)
8. Montage #2 (:52)
9. King For A Day (:39)
10. Second Dance Tune (4:24)
11. Pizza Parlor (1:59)
12. In The Shower (2:09)
13. Running (1:51)
14. The Underpass (2:34)
15. To The Rescue (1:08)
16. In The Locker Room (:34)
17. Going For The Ball (1:49)
18. Hurt (1:12)
19. In The Hospital (1:13)
20. Lucas And Maggie Talk (2:16)
21. The Letter (2:01)
22. End Credits (2:08)

Saturday Night Fever and The Brave Little Toaster

It's a shitty shitty shit '20s movie, and the version I saw had a shitty shitty shit '80s soundtrack. It was awful - Jennifer Orangio, film music critic, discussing the '80s handling of Metropolis.

As anyone who knows me will know, I like soundtrack albums. Especially instrumental ones that you can pretend to conduct to although I never really got the knack of it (I'm more of a keeping time type of guy), although I want to get the Happy Feet song and score albums - score because I've gotten to like John Powell a lot more than I did in his Face/Off days, and song because I can't pass up Brittany Murphy, Nicole Kidman, Robin Williams and Hugh Jackman on the same album. (Too bad nobody sang a cover of Laura Branigan (RIP)'s English version of "Gloria" to try and woo the penguin of that name [voiced and sung by La Murphy] in the flick, but never mind - still a good movie. Better than Casino Royale, as well.)

Anyway, last week while rushing to get the post out for the man taking them to the sorting depot, he noticed the stacks of my albums that I've had to store there ever since the Eviction (oh, that landlord will be getting a year-end Feltz next week, count on it friends and neighbours), and he tried to strike up conversation with me by telling me that the previous night he'd been listening to the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack... don't get me wrong, he's a very nice man and he understands the pressures we're all under, but I mean to say, Saturday Night Fever? Unless you're '76, or another fan, or Mike, or coming to this from a film music-related blog, you won't understand what kind of a misstep that is; see also my ex-boss Ann Solomon, who waaay back when gave me a Kodak promotional soundtrack CD of songs from the movies, and my aunt Joy - who gave me a Billie Holiday CD. Quite simply not my type. Never has been, never will.

On the other hand, 1987's
The Brave Little Toaster is most definitely my type, both as an animated movie (the old chestnut about a group of household appliances going on a trek to find their beloved Master) and as an album. Jen asked me about it as part of her (successful) bid to find the song "City of Lights," but the non-Van Dyke Parks cuts are worth a listen too... this was the first venture into cartoons from David Newman, the most underrated member of the Newman musical family (his cousin's Randy, his brother's Thomas, and his dad's most famous work is the Twentieth Century Fox fanfare); since this movie his animated work's included Ice Age, Anastasia and, of course, DuckTales: The Movie - Treasure of the Lost Lamp, but this remains his best work for the medium (tied with Ice Age). It's also one of the few genuinely good movies he's blessed with his talent - Thomas is a must if you're seeking Oscars, and Randy has the Pixar movies on his side, but David's CV has precious few like Ice Age, Galaxy Quest, the Bill & Ted movies, The War of the Roses or Throw Momma From The Train (or even guilty pleasures like Critters and Man of the House) and far too many like Scooby-Doo (both movies), The Flintstones (ditto), The Phantom, Daddy Day Care, Fire Birds, Hoffa, Duplex...

Another irritation about Newman's career to date is that far too many of his scores either haven't been released commercially or only got the token score cut treatment - thank goodness for promos and specialty labels. Which brings us to Percepto, whose lovingly put-together CD came out in 2005, nearly 20 years after the film did; recorded in Japan (the movie was partly financed with Japanese money) with the composer conducting the New Japan Philharmonic Orchestra, it's a happy affair that doesn't clash with Van Dyke Parks's songs (unlike, say, Eragon - Avril Lavigne's end title song does not fit in at all, not to mention sucking); this does contain one of the bugbears of collectors, dialogue over music tracks (they're in Arial italics) - but while some soundtrack albums go overboard with this (The Truth And The Light: Music From The X Files, Babe, anything involving Monty Python or Quentin Tarantino) it's kept to a minimum here - and since the movie featured the voices of Jon Lovitz, Phil Hartman (RIP) and Tony the Tiger himself, Thurl Ravenscroft (RIP), we'll let them off the hook. This is a charming effort; he manages to weave the songs into the score without having them take it over ("The Pond" and "End Title" in particular) and the entertaining big band/Indian snake dance music for "They Look For Transportation" is a highlight. It's big and sweeping when it has to be ("They All Wake Up" and the seven-minute climax), but it's never cutesy - all cartoons should have music this strong. When they deserve it, that is.


And best of all, it's still available from Percepto... give it a go, Jen. Not all film music is as bad as Giorgio Moroder.

1. Main Title (2:23)
2. They All Wake Up (2:42)
3. Blanket's Dream (2:28)
4. The Air Conditioner Blows (1:20)
5. They Decide to Go (:52)
6. They Look For Transportation (:50)
7. Out Into the World (1:40)
8. City of Lights (2:59)
9. Blanket Looks for a Place to Sleep (1:04)
10. The Pond/Busby Berkley/The Meadow (5:35)
11. Toaster's Dream (1:16)
12. The Storm (1:36)
13. Blanket is Blown Away (1:37)
14. The Waterfall (:58)
15. Vacuum Rescues the Group (1:29)
16. They Sink in the Mud (1:26)
17. In the Shop (:56)
18. Blender's Motor is Sold (1:30)
19. It's A 'B' Movie (3:03)
20. Radio is Stalked (1:04)
21. Happy Travel (1:12)
22. Into the City (1:29)
23. Cutting Edge (2:29)
24. Junkyard Montage (1:25)
25. Worthless (4:26)
26. Finale (7:01)
27. End Title (3:36)

The man who didn't put up a year-end ten best and worst list.

Because really, who cares? Tell me, does anybody really want to know what my highpoints and lowpoints of the year were? Do my opinions really carry any weight at all? When you've got umpteen billion people drawing from the same limited pool of things to talk about, you have to wonder if it makes any damn difference.

Or maybe it's just the mood I'm in right now. Maybe I'll come back later on all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and ready to pretend that I'm a "professional" critic. Then again, the views of the "pros" aren't usually more reliable than those of Joe Blogger or Jane Usenet - they just get paid for spouting prejudiced drivel, that's all. Besides, 2006 has been on balance a pretty bad year. Too bad to bother listing any possible Feltzes. So I want to end it on a high note, and just list some of the things that cheered me up the most this year with no pretence at critical opinion whatsoever. Plus it's my 37th-going-on-17th birthday and I want to be happy. So fuck the Feltzes and bring on the Cindys...

My family. Like the theme song from Baywatch says, they're always there.
Friday afternoons. No explanation needed.
High School Musical. As addictive as heroin and far healthier.
Heroes. No movie to come on the big screen this year has had me so anticipated. And it was worth the wait.
The labels Intrada, Varese Sarabande and FSM. Where would I be without them?
Jennifer, Mike, Ken, Butch, John, Brandon and Tom. Champagne for the real friends here.
The US midterms. Proof that the Rolling Stones song "You Can't Always Get What You Want" even applies to His Imperial Smugness.
"Wind It Up." Because it's the first time someone's ever made The Sound of Music bearable.
SuperiorPics.com. The Superficial without the bitterness.
Summer. Purely because it's something to look forward to.
Christmas. See above.
All the ladies listed opposite. See Friday afternoons.
Especially Hayden Panettiere. Mega-ditto.

And Cindy, as ever. Couldn't have done it withour her.

Thursday, December 28, 2006

And this time there's a picture!

You knew something big was going to happen when the Sheriff's Department and the Fire Department, with their trucks, made a special visit to the new Rooms To Go showroom in Naples, Saturday, Dec. 16.

By 10 a.m., parking in the lot of the superstore was at a premium, as police directed traffic. News teams from Naples to Ft. Myers jockeyed for space, as film crews from Rooms To Go prepared for the grand entrance of what seemed must be a rock star. Velvet ropes wound around the store as fans vied for a place in line.

Security was tight when supermodel Cindy Crawford jumped out of a big, black SUV and made her way through the crowd to sign autographs for shoppers and fans at 11 a.m. The nasty weather didn't keep her fans from showing up by the dozens, some of whom lined up outside the store as early as 8 a.m., hoping to catch a peek of the supermodel-turned-furniture-designer.

"I love the way this store has displayed my furniture," stated Crawford. "I was here two days ago filming a television commercial, and I got to see the store before anyone else. I'm really sorry I brought this rain, although it was nice of everyone to come out."

Although I have been in the modeling business for over 35 years, and even did a show or two with Cindy before she became the Ubermodel of the 80's, and we had the same agent, I have seldom ever seen a supermodel age as well as she. The modeling business is a hard one, and a supermodel lives and works extra-hard, i.e., Janice Dickenson and Naomi Campbell, but this super girl looked super great.

Crawford entered the store wearing extremely tight stove pipe-legged jeans with an ivory embellished blouse and super high heels ... she knows her fashion. Her hair and makeup were camera-ready.

I have to admit, Crawford looked even better than in her supermodel days on the runways of the world. Two children and a happy marriage later, she was the most stunning I have ever seen her, along with having the skinny hips of a 12-year-old. She was every bit the professional, no diva attitude here. She talked to everyone and smiled as she signed autographs.

Chris and Mindy Fitzgerald brought their small children John and Megan to see the furniture designer. "I want to see the pretty lady," stated little John, although it looked like this was more for dad, Chris.

The crowd, in fact, was made up mainly of teenage boys and older men and women, without many aspiring models-to-be. When onlookers Jen Kruza and Kathryn Khan were asked if they had any aspirations of modeling, both girls giggled and said, "We are just fans and wanted to see if she was as pretty in person as photographs."

Others did not want to give their names. "The guys in the office would never let me live it down if they knew I was here," added one Naples worker. Another gentleman stated, "I told my wife I was going to Home Depot."

Crawford started designing her furniture line for Rooms To Go several years ago. It has grown from a few pieces to an entire collection spanning the store. "I wanted to create furniture anyone would love to come home to... well-designed and well-priced," said Crawford.

Her knowledge of colors, fabrics and design has served her well; as a model, she has an eye for what looks and works well together. Her creations range from contemporary to traditional, to high-tech to smooth. She seems to want to design for everyone. If one thing is for sure this holiday season, I'm not eating much... I want hips like Crawford's!

Tuesday, December 26, 2006

Special Christmas Day Weekend Update!

Posted on Boxing Day, mind.

Cindy: No real arguments with Sharon. Or Zeta. You can't beat a generally easygoing Christmas Day.

Aguileraisacunt(acuntwithbeautifullegsbutstillacunt): Switching on Radio 1 to hear about the Godfather of Soul passing on. Way to get the day off on a bad note.

Rosanna ([Jessica] Alba being the sole preserve of Butch): Making out like a bandit with the booty - underwear, jumper and £30 HMV gift card (and with the post-Christmas sales coming up!) from Sharon, Is It Just Me Or Is Everything Shit? Volume 2 from Joy (a vast improvement on what said aunt gave me last year), and socks, the new Onion collection and the complete series of The Wild Wild West on DVD from Zeta. In football terms, back of the net!

Madonna: Chris Moyles' Christmas panto this year. Laughless waste of 30 minutes, although I'm sure KS would love the bit where Gwen Stefani as Little Red Riding Hood gets eaten.

Hayden: Managing not to overeat on the day for a change.

Hatcher: Worrying that our wages won't be available on Dec. 29. The thought of being broke on my birthday...

Monica: Not getting any soundtrack albums for Christmas. This counts because I still have Lifeforce, Runaway and Lucas to listen to. :)

Girls Aloud: Christmas Day TV. Even less alluring than usual. I didn't watch ANYTHING. (Apart from the endings of The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe and Chicken Little.)

JLH: Winning the awesomeness award from Jen for
this link. I think.

Sunday, December 17, 2006

Cindy's latest shilling. Which is fine with me.

I realise that this plug constitutes a commercial, but anything that helps support my Cindy is worth time on this blog.

Some may have come to look at the new Rooms To Go furniture store on Saturday, but they couldn't help but take a peek at supermodel and furniture designer Cindy Crawford.

Lines wrapped around the megastore — located on U.S. 41 North just south of Anchor Rode Drive — looking much like the wait to see Santa in a big-city department store.

But this wasn't holiday-related, although there were hundreds waiting with stars in their eyes: Crawford was in town this week, shooting a TV commercial for the furniture store, and consented to a personal appearance.

Faces of curious locals bobbed up and down, trying to get a glimpse of the supermodel, who sat at a desk autographing photos of herself, standing only when those waiting asked to have their pictures taken with her.

Meanwhile, electronic and cell phone cameras flashed away, locals gauging the distance to see if they got the shot.

Naples resident Pia Aviles positioned herself so she could photograph Crawford from behind the deputy-guarded lines.

"My daughter is 16 and wants to be a model," Aviles said, explaining that she was holding a place in line for Camila, 16, a Lely High School junior.

Peter Granger was in line because his wife and daughter wanted to see Crawford.

Asked why they wanted to see her, Granger shook his head: "I don't know," he said.

Wearing a Temperley of London cream-colored puff-sleeved blouse that had sparkly trimmings; black skinny pants; and Jimmy Choo slingbacks, Crawford wasn't wearing any jewelry, but was made up for a photo shoot and commercial.

"How old is she?" seasonal Naples resident Marguerite Scharf asked a bystander.

"I didn't even know who she was until my son asked if I was going to see her. I was curious to see what this is all about," Scharf said.

Ann Anderson and her daughter, Amee, were — technically — looking for new furniture for Amee's bedroom.

"She's pretty. Very pretty. How old is she?" asked Ann Anderson.

Seasonal resident Irene Hamel said she came to see Crawford.

"I don't need any furniture," Hamel said, but noted that she hadn't known Rooms to Go had opened a new store.

Crawford's longtime hair stylist Stephen Knoll, who owns a salon on Madison Avenue and East 58th Street in New York, said he thought Crawford attracted a good turnout.

A friend for 20 years who travels with her to do her hair, Knoll said Crawford has always had mass appeal.

"Her approach is so friendly and open, which she is. She's a woman's woman (in that) women can relate to her," Knoll said. "Outer beauty is one thing but her inner beauty really comes across."

TV commercial producer Howie Rogers said the Crawford spot probably will be on television by early January.

"It's going into editing next week," he said.

The mother of a son and a daughter, Crawford, 40, has been designing children-friendly furniture for Rooms to Go for about 2 and 1/2 years.

According to Rooms To Go President Jeff Seaman, her line generates more than $100 million a year in sales.

Reared in the Midwest, Crawford's family wasn't affluent and her Rooms To Go collection is geared to families of the same ilk, she said earlier this week.

Friday, December 15, 2006

Another year almost over, and there's no way I'm doing a John Lennon impersonation.

Just some random things that piss me off...

That Diana memorial concert. WHY? Is there going to be one for Mother Teresa, who kicked it not long afterwards? Is there fuck. And that hearing which found it was an accident - most of us came to that conclusion in 1997! Now can we take the advice of The Sun and let her rest in peace?

Abbey National. Yes, again. Payday today - and something went wrong with the transfer, so my cash is unavailable today and probably until Monday! Just what I need in the buildup to Christmas, and no presents bought yet...

Free newspapers. Littering up the place, and not exactly readable anyway. Thanks a lot.

Take That's return. Gag, gag, gag.

Captainspalding. Another in the long, long, long line of gas-spouters with nothing better to do than post utter crap to newsgroups. Do not insult Cindy Crawford and expect to be on my good side. But you knew that.

FHM US shutting down... no, wait, that doesn't piss me off. Sorry.

Saturday, December 09, 2006

Here we go again...

MuffinMan, he of the cricket-sounding blog :) , quoth:

Seeing as a) how the age-of-consent laws in many parts of the country (including where I live) are BELOW 18, and that I'm aware how much you fancy a certain girl-woman who now stars in a certain show about, I believe, "heroic" people ;), I've decided to now drop the age minimum to 17 years (as of Dec 31, 2006)...in exchange for that concession, I'd like to expand our lists from 50 to 60 (seeing as "People" magazine has done the same this year with their Most Beautiful list from 50 to 100, though I think they went TOO far with that expansion, esp. since they neglected a certain 2-time Oscar nominee/1-time winner from South Africa in the process ;( ), now to consist of five teams of 12 (up from 10), with both of us "protecting" up to 20 of our ladies from last years' list...
which you can find here.

With apologies to Devon Aoki, Mischa Barton, Buffie the Body, Kelly Clarkson, Jennifer Connelly, Emilie de Ravin, Maggie Grace, Nicky Hilton, Katie Holmes, Catherine Zeta Jones, Catherine Keener, Diane Lane, Lindsay Lohan, Vanessa Marcil, Amanda Righetti, Sarah Silverman, Leeann Tweeden and Sofia Vergara, this year's list from me and him (with new arrivals in italics and returnees with asterisks) looks a lot like this...

Paula Abdul
Amy Adams
Jessica Alba
Alessandra Ambrosio*
Sophie Anderton
Shiri Appleby*
Rosanna Arquette

Elizabeth Banks
Drew Barrymore
Kim Basinger
Esther Baxter
Jennifer Beals*
Emmanuelle Beart*

Kristen Bell
Maria Bello

Monica Bellucci
Halle Berry
Jessica Biel
Rachel Bilson
Alexis Bledel
Edith Bowman
Brooke Burke
Erica Campbell
Mariah Carey

Charisma Carpenter
Laetitia Casta
Melinda Clarke
Holly Marie Combs
Cindy Crawford
Marcia Cross
Penelope Cruz*

Elisha Cuthbert
Rosario Dawson
Dana Delany*
Cameron Diaz

Hilary Duff
Kirsten Dunst
Erica Durance
Eliza Dushku
Tina Fey
Jenna Fischer
Jennifer Garner

Aria Giovanni
Lauren Graham
Vida Guerra
Carla Gugino
Maggie Gyllenhaal

Mariska Hargitay
Teri Hatcher
Salma Hayek

Keeley Hazell
Katherine Heigl
Jennifer Love Hewitt
Paris Hilton
Laurel Holloman
Kelly Hu
Vanessa Hudgens

Elizabeth Hurley
Scarlett Johansson
Angelina Jolie
Stacy Keibler

Nicole Kidman
Heidi Klum
Keira Knightley

Beyonce Knowles
Jane Krakowski*
Joanna Krupa
Ali Larter*
Sanaa Lathan

Vanessa Lengies
Evangeline Lilly
Heather Locklear
Eva Longoria
Elle Macpherson
Josie Maran

Debbie Matenopoulos
Rachel McAdams
Rose McGowan

Katharine McPhee
Eva Mendes
Maria Menounos

Vanessa Minnillo
Kelly Monaco

Julianne Moore
Brittany Murphy
Petra Nemcova*
Gwyneth Paltrow
Hayden Panettiere
Grace Park

Danica Patrick
Lucy Pinder
Amy Poehler
Natalie Portman

Monita Rajpal
Rihanna

Rebecca Romijn
Emmy Rossum
Winona Ryder*

Nicole Scherzinger
Shakira
Maria Sharapova
Nicollette Sheridan
Britney Spears
Gwen Stefani

Amber Tamblyn
Charlize Theron
Uma Thurman
Aisha Tyler

Liv Tyler
Gabrielle Union
Holly Valance

Nadine Velazquez
Dita von Teese
Sela Ward
Estella Warren
Naomi Watts
Rachel Weisz
Kate Winslet
Reese Witherspoon
Evan Rachel Wood

Thursday, December 07, 2006

The midweek Weekend Update.

Cindy: TheRedCurtain on The Guardian's Comment Is Free blog, for his/her quote "Robin Hood sent four generations of my family to sleep simultaneously the other week and yet the Guardian calls it "consistently entertaining". More fun than anything that show turned up before I stopped watching it.

Feltz: Myself, for falling asleep while online. Again. No reflection on Mike; it's me. It's always me.

Cindy: December. My favourite month. Not long before we can say goodbye to this crappy year.

Feltz: Still no Christmas shopping done for Sharon, Zeta, or my secret Santa recipient at work.

Cindy: Getting to leave work early for my latest blood sample, thanks to my working near Muswell Hill and the blood clinic being near where I live. Which is nowhere near Muswell Hill.

Feltz: Having to give my latest blood sample. It didn't help that the drawing was delayed because I was even more nervous than usual. Haven't fainted yet, but dammit...

Cindy: Only four more episodes of Heroes to go before I'm caught up and can start visiting show sites (and Googling for Hayden again).

Feltz: Only four more episodes of Heroes to go before I'm caught up and have no more until mid-January!

Cindy: Tim Kring and Co. deciding not to get in the way of 24's return. Probably wise.


Feltz: Not done any writing yet this week. And that's my cue to exit...

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

And now, another post enthusing over "Heroes" and Hayden Panettiere. In roughly that order.

In a time way way way back in the day (as the theme song from Phil of the Future had it), among the videos I'd rent from the Barbadian video clubs were videos done from the TV stations in Miami - TV movies, cartoons, episodes of TV shows, and so on. If I ever visit the place on holiday I'll likely find they still do it.


Anyway, thanks to online viewing those days are here again - Sci-Fi starts Heroes in February and it should be on BBC2 in the summer, but I can't wait that long, dammit! With four more episodes to go in this go-round until the series takes its break, I'm thoroughly enjoying it (even the weaker episodes always have something); thanks to the makers for not listing everyone in the cast regardless of whether or not they're in an episode, and for not having the powers shown off every week. And for not showing Linderman just yet (is he Sylar? Don't tell me). And for making Milo Ventimiglia more bearable than he ever was on Gilmore girls.


The only drawback is no end credits on them, but that's another reason for me to watch them on proper TV. That and the fact that bigger screen = bigger Hayden "Funny how I never hear from Booch unless I post pictures of her" Panettiere. (Like Mr. B., I find she isn't the reason to watch, but she's certainly one of the best reasons to - not only beautiful, but she can also act. And while casting twentysomethings to play teenagers is okay when they can do it convincingly like Kristen Bell and Renee O'Connor for instance, casting a real teenager is even better.)


And one more thing... any chance of an actual theme tune, like Tim Kring's last show Crossing Jordan had? Mild picks, though. The biggest drawback of all is... only four more episodes! Four more episodes to see if they can stop NYC from blowing up, to see if Matt can become a detective, to see if Hiro will ever get out of Nevada, and to see if Niki can control Jessica or vice versa.


And yes, to see if Claire finds out that her dad knows. "Holy sh-," indeed...

Saturday, December 02, 2006

And now, some happy news for a change.

Happy birthday, Britney Spears! And well done in losing the excess weight (you supply the punchline). Now if we can just get you away from Paris and Lindsay, and showing off more than we expect to see under controlled conditions, it'll be like 1999 all over again - the kind of deja vu we can all get behind (as opposed to the Beyonce variety).

Friday, December 01, 2006

Memoirs of an undervalued composer: Shirley Walker 1945-2006

'76: Hey Victor
Me: Hi.
'76: you might enjoy this... (picture link to J. Alba)
Me: I usually would, yeah. But I just saw on Intrada's forums that Shirley Walker (Danny Elfman's conductor on Batman and an excellent composer in her own right) passed away yesterday. :(
'76: NO! thats terrible news. i love her score for Memoirs of an Invisible Man
Me: Brain aneurysm, apparently.
'76: thats terrible. i loved her work
Me: She did some excellent stuff for the WB's shows and Carpenter. I loved Memoirs of an Invisible Man too - and Space: Above and Beyond.
'76: never heard her score for Space
Me: The TV series - she did the pilot and all the episodes. Plus her theme for The Others was the best thing about that show.
'76: i love that Invisible Man score. always play it to get in the mood for writing an action scene
Me: Say this for John Carpenter; if he let someone else write the music for him, he made a good call that time.
'76: Well Carpenter is a man of great taste in general for me...this just cinches it
Me: Plus she was the only "outsider" he worked with more than once music-wise; Ennio Morricone and Jack Nitzsche were one-timers, but he used her again with Escape From L.A.
'76: this really is sad
Me: Yeah. November was a bad month for film music with her and Basil Poledouris passing. Not really in the mood for talking much.
'76: yeah
Me: I'm going to dig out my albums of hers and play them in tribute. Too bad she had so few released.
'76: ill do the same tomorrow

And now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go and listen to Memoirs of an Invisible Man, Escape from L.A. and Batman: Mask of the Phantasm.

Thursday, November 30, 2006

Feltz: Raven.

Not Raven-Symone, KC Raven. He was a longtime Yahoo! member who maintained a number of excellent groups devoted to female forms (Raven's Young Stars, Raven's Beautiful Models, Raven's Beautiful Buns, etc); he always delivered both with quality and quantity, unlike all too many Yahoo! groups (including the one I started for Cindy Crawford and Laetitia Casta stories), and seeing his multiple postings in my inbox was a guarantee that something lovely was waiting for me.
His real name was Ed Robinson, and he passed away yesterday. This sucks... he may have gone quickly and mercifully, but it still sucks.

Friday, November 24, 2006

Well, it took them long enough.

Fact: Christopher "the ninth Doctor Who" Eccleston joins the cast of Heroes. Fact: BBC2 announces buying the terrestrial rights. Coincidence? I doubt it.
But this is great news for those folks who were wondering when an FTA channel would pull their fingers out and get it. Not so great for those who recall BBC2's treatment of Buffy the Vampire Slayer (6:45pm with appropriate snippage anyone?). Or their legendary treatment of Seinfeld. Or Monk, Arrested Development, American Dad!, Family Guy, etc... but we'll see.
9pm in primetime, schedulers - nothing less will do.

I didn't mean it, Jen.

Me: Joanna Levesque. TURN 16, DAMMIT!
Jen: She's not 16 yet? *checks Wiki* Apparently not
Me: Not till next month.
Jen: ...OH MY GOD I THINK SOMEONE BORN IN THE 90'S IS HOT!!!! *feels old*



Saturday, November 18, 2006

Save the cheerleader, save the world... save my soul...


Cindylover1969 (hereafter called "Me"): I can't do websearches for Hayden any more. :(
KMB2476 (hereafter called "'76") : why not?
Me: Because I don't want to get any more Heroes spoilers. It starts here in February, and...
'76: ahhhh
Me: So until then, she's offlimits. (Except in picture forums, natch.)
'76: an excellebnt point. i just hope shes not offlimits in stories
Me: Oh no, that's another matter.
'76: i wouldnt want you not to read her debut in Harem. i promise no spoilers - save for an occasional teasing remark about "save the cheerleader, save the world"
'76: which I dont even know what it means ;)
Me: That's a great tagline. I love it.
'76: at least not yet...Monday is supposed to change all that :) NBC works it into EVERYTHING
Me: I saw it at the base of a print ad for Man of the Year. (That's corporate synergy for you.) Best TV tagline in years. Even if NBC Universal's logo sucks.
'76: that it does. its a great tagline. its actually a line of dialogue, one you know is killer the second its spoken. all ill say is this; i cant ever think of a show ive looked more forward to each week and i dont even read comic books
Me: Neither do I.

And with the ninth Doctor Who on board now, the chances of it getting the terrestrial berth denied it in the UK thus far in favour of surer things like, er, Vanished, Kidnapped, Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, Six Degrees, 3 Lbs and Runaway must have increased. Surely? (Note to the BBC - it would make up for Robin Hood.)

Hi diddle de dee...




So good to see Laetitia in a comedy. And a female pirate more alluring than Keira Knightley. :)
And as for the link:
KMB2476: pardon my ignorance, but who is that?
Cindylover1969: Katharine McPhee.
Cindylover1969: You're pardoned, don't worry. I forgot I wasn't talking to Evil. :)
KMB2476: very nice :)
KMB2476: got some good plans in store for her
Cindylover1969: Don't we all.

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Thank you so much, Ken.

Mayor Ken Livingstone, that is.
So anyway, this is the day I went for my flu jab (every winter those of us in the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland more prone to flu than others have to get vaccinated against the flu, and diabetics fall into that category. Luckily, us diabetics also don't have to pay for the privilege of having a bacteria-flooded needle stuck into our upper arm for a few nanoseconds). Unfortunately, this is also the day that a whole load of bus drivers decided to go... you guessed it... on strike. Including the majority of the ones that take me to and from work.
And it's not like I live five minutes away from DMWorks either, otherwise I could have gone back to work after the jab - no, it's an hour's bus ride to and fro changing buses twice. So the diversions make the journey even longer... okay, I do get to go home early because by the time I got vaccinated it would have taken too long to get back to work and I would have had to leave not too long after getting back.
But dammit, bus travel in London is crap enough as it is without fucking strikes! And threats of more next week... cheers, Mr. Livingstone. Real nice bus system you've got here, real nice.

Many thanks to Anneza for making stabbing motions to my blaring out of The Omen: The Deluxe Edition this morning, by the way. It might have put notions of Psycho in her mind (and others'), but at least no turning down was done...

Sorry to Jen for not entering choices in the league this week. I just plain forgot. Won't happen again.

Oh, and a slap on the wrist to Sci-Fi for sitting on Heroes until February. February. And people wonder why folks download.

Sunday, November 12, 2006

That was the week that was. It's over. Let it go.

So winter's setting in. Technically it's not winter yet but it does feel like it more and more every day. It should have been a wonderful week (the midterms, Britney's splitting up and looking more like her old self, my copy of 100 Rifles that I won from FSM finally arriving, and a new shoot from Her in the December issue of UK Esquire).
But this is also the week Ed Bradley from 60 Minutes, Jack Palance and Basil Poledouris (as noted elsewhere here) left us. So very, very mixed. Happy trails, folks.

Thursday, November 09, 2006

Thanks, Basil: 1945-2006.

I may have mentioned earlier that things were going pretty well for me news-wise, but I had a feeling that something would happen. And something very much has.

Lukas Kendall posted this on the Film Score Monthly board this morning (UK time):



Friends,

I'm very sorry to bring the sad news that Basil Poledouris has died after his battle with cancer. He appeared at the Spanish film music concert only a few months ago which is remarkable as he was quite sick at the time. I am sure the official obituary will be posted soon.

Basil was a really lovely man. He was genuinely warm and friendly and kind in addition to being so talented and productive over the years.

I'm still in shock as I knew he was sick but it is always hard to process this kind of news. So, I have more to say, but I'll do it later.

Terribly sad,

Lukas

The Hunt For Red October. Conan The Barbarian. The Blue Lagoon. Lonesome Dove. Red Dawn. The first two Free Willy movies. Big Wednesday. On Deadly Ground. Robocop. Amerika. Starship Troopers. And this is a man who also had the kind of backbone to step back from scoring the kind of movies that he didn't feel anything for; not that I can blame those who do, but you don't get much of that integrity. He was a class act, and today's a black, black day for film music fans.

Shit.

Read Christopher Lennertz's touching eulogy here.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Icky for so many reasons

Okay, so this post by veteran Comic Book Guy animators' model and one-time Sky Movies employee Harry Knowles has already been on 8405 blogs. Just call this 8406 and be done with it...

I don't watch much TV. I hate commercials and I hate being chained to a date and time by some corporate programming. However, I don't begrudge downloading from iTunes a single show a week that I'm addicted to. Currently, this show is HEROES. I never can remember that it is on... on Monday nights... at some time or another. It just slips my mind.
Anyway - I've got a moral quandry about the show.
Hayden Panettiere, born August 21, 1989, now 17 (legal in Texas, which is important, because her character is in Odessa, Texas) as the character, Claire Bennett. She's adorably cute, constantly in her cheerleader uniform.
Ok - now never mind that she fulfills the underage cheerleading limber blond virginal demographic. That's pretty delicious.
But they gave her the ability to regenerate and resucitate from any and all injuries.
This power has decided to manifest itself before she's lost her virginity.
Which means - everytime she has sex, she's a virgin as her hymen will repair itself. Meaning that everytime she's fucked, its like she's being fucked for the very first time.
OK - that's WAY WRONG.
NOW - add to that - that she's at the age where cellular growth is complete. This is it. No wrinkles. No sagging breasts. If she has a kid and it pushes the hipbones out... they'll straighten back and she'll be fine.
Of course - that's even if she could get pregnant. Would her eggs allow an invading sperm to fertilize? Is that possible?
OR - is she simply doomed to enjoy threat free sex for life. Now - here's the scary part. She'll never know non-hymen blocked sex. Cuz even if it gets pushed through... on any withdrawl and cycle back in, the hymen will have grown back. SO...
It's my theory that do to the constant discomfort of virginal sex with men, her character will prefer the kind attention of her fellow sex. MEANING - she'll be a hot, underage, cheerleading lesbian... for life.
ALSO - she could have sex with ANYONE. Any disease - unprotected and be perfectly ok.
The people behind this show are sick. Either that or they have singlehandedly created the most deviantly awesome fanboy sex object in the history of SUPERHERO FICTION.
And she's from Texas.
Claire... you rule!


This is very, very wrong. Not so much because of the basic sentiments (face it, I can relate to being attracted to her), not even because of the perverted extrapolation. (As anyone who's read "Man of Steel, Woman Of Kleenex" will agree, he could have gone a lot further.)
What turns my stomach is the image this conjures up. Picture Harry Knowles. Now picture him on Hayden Panettiere.

Sorry.

This is too good to be true...

Britney Spears giving K-Fed the heave-ho, the Bush Administration getting thoroughly served in the mid-terms (even if the Democrats don't get Senate control it's still one in the eye for Commander Smug), the epitome of loathsomeness that is Donald Rumsfeld resigning, and one of my friends on Guardian Unlimited is lending me a DVD of the first six episodes of Heroes on Friday.

Life is good.

Sunday, November 05, 2006

World's Worst Biographer.

If you think you get some flak for being a perv, spare a thought for David Thomson. Then again, he gets paid for it, so don't. The Daily Telegraph's Catherine Shoard reviewing Nicole Kidman:

It's not uncommon for a biographer to fall for their subject. But it's rare they declare their lust as frankly as David Thomson. His book about Nicole Kidman is, he says, 'a testament from a fan, a love-letter, from someone in the dark to one of those beauties in the light'. Others may feel this is putting it mildly. If I got a letter like that I think I'd take it straight to the police.
Barely a paragraph passes without Thomson setting new records in dribbly critical candour. On page six he tells us that the curve of Kidman's bottom is as familiar to him as his own child's brow. She has 'a very lovely supple body' that 'shines like a lighthouse in sex scenes'. Her breasts are 'tidy', her legs a treat, her face is one of 'wondrous impassive depravity'.
'Millions of us could recognise the sweet curve of her bottom in the dark,' he writes. 'Millions more have had that palpable illusion help them make it through the night.' Thomson, already one of the world's most respected film writers, establishes himself here as one of the world's leading lechers.
But let's get one thing straight. This is not a role he wants. It has been thrust upon him. Nicole is, frankly, asking for it. That look she gives the camera? Definitely a come-on. 'Actors make love to people they will never meet,' he explains. 'It is their passion.' I mean, what's a man to do?
At first glance there's nothing wrong with an approach as passionate as this, for all its perviness and delusion. But Thomson's crush is not the type that makes him desperate for all the info on Kidman he can find. Rather, he shows an almost complete lack of curiosity in his subject. This does not make for the most gripping biography.
There are no facts here that couldn't be gleaned from the most rudimentary Google search. There's some strange, wild speculation about who Kidman's favourite sporting heroes might be, or what her take on American overseas intervention is, but Thomson answers none of the key Kidman questions: why did she and Tom Cruise divorce? Did Stanley Kubrick really feed them malicious stories about each other on the set of Eyes Wide Shut? Why did they adopt children just two years into their marriage? Has she had botox (he spends seven pages fretting without conclusion)? What's she actually like?
Rather, he devotes most of the book to the one thing that interests him more than Nicole: his own opinion. In discussing her films, one after another after another, he doesn't even attempt to be comprehensive (wilfully abstaining from any discussion of Far and Away – an interestingly awful movie if ever that was one); he tries still less to be concise.
But the acres of plot and endless digressions are nothing to his habit of weighing in with how he'd have done a better job had he been in charge – casting William Hurt rather than John Malkovich in The Golden Bowl; adding an illicit affair to the script of The Others; giving Birth an especially horrid rethink. And he doesn't stop with movies that have actually been made. He tells us, too, about films that only exist in his dreams – usually starring Kidman, generally in some state of undress.
Thomson may be a first-class fantasist, but he's still never less than an elegant writer, and there are some lovely lines here: in The Human Stain, Kidman (playing a down-at-heel cleaner) looks 'about as dowdy as a sunset over the mountains'. He makes a few sharp points about the links between acting and prostitution, though one can't help feeling they'd carry more weight if he weren't quite such an interested party.
But as the book progresses so Thomson's hold on reality seems increasingly wobbly. Could it be that, rather than just being content with his role as 'someone in the dark', he's really a frustrated participant? One anecdote implies he thinks he could have slept with another one of his favourite actresses, Tuesday Weld, one night (she was 38, he was 42, he was giving her an award 'and my wife was out of town'). He brags, too, about knowing the location of a couple of houses Nicole 'prefers to keep secret' and that he has 'no wish to divulge' – shades of Paul Burrell, here.
Most damning, though, is his huffy disapproval of Kidman's recent boyfriends, none of which seem to him to be 'especially substantial or rewarding' – including new husband, Keith Urban. If only she could find a man worthy of her, eh? A man who really understood her, who wasn't afraid to shout his love from the rooftops. Watch out, Nicole – he only wants you for your body.

Okay, this is getting freaky.

Yesterday I had on the Sing-Along version of High School Musical. This morning I actually dreamt about the movie; my own personal sequel, in which I went to see it in cinemas (it actually did get shown in cinemas in some parts of the world), the large girl who loved hip-hop dancing did an MC Hammer impression on stage and went crashing outside, and I went out there to console her on making a mess (for some reason I said that if I went to her place and did something like that, I wouldn't go and leave it - what kind of advice is that?).
The exact plot details, it being a dream and all, escape me now - but it involved a massive huge swimming pool, the school being linked to a mall, and most importantly me consoling Gabriella (I actually found myself in the film somehow) after it looks like she and Troy won't get to the callbacks. Anything involving me kissing Vanessa Hudgens repeatedly can only be a good thing... scientists, hurry up and invent that thing from Brainstorm that can record dreams and play them back. NOW.

Saturday, November 04, 2006

It is time to get geeky: The Ten Commandments.

Not the classic one with "So it is written, so it shall be done," but the recent TV version from the folks who used to be called Hallmark Entertainment (and who used to be reliable, but after Dinotopia... well), with Sayid from Lost, Salman Rushdie's missus, Sydney Bristow's sister and Omar Sharif. Since we haven't had any Bank Holidays for a while it hasn't turned up on British TV yet, but it's only a matter of time before it arrives on Sky One or Hallmark or whatever.
But Randy Edelman's music turned up a lot sooner, on Varese Sarabande, and it's... lacklustre. Hallmark (okay, RHI) projects generally have fine music (Anne Dudley's The 10th Kingdom, Michael Convertino's Snow White, Trevor Jones' Gulliver's Travels and Dinotopia, etc) and Biblical tales are traditionally a gift for composers - The Greatest Story Ever Told, The Prince of Egypt, The Last Temptation of Christ, Jesus of Nazareth... even Bugtime Adventures has a catchy theme song. Plus Elmer Bernstein's music for The Ten Commandments is so stirring that anything done since then for the story of Moses can't really be expected to automatically be on the same level.
Be that as it may, it's still unmemorable. Maybe Edelman's brief was to keep from going for the epic approach, but other than a solo violin theme (heard best in the last track) in that respect it's not exactly The Passion of the Christ. I'll give it another listen and maybe update this entry, but Edelman's done far better for TV, let alone film. As Ashley Tisdale would say, not Jessica Alba-tastic.
1. The Ten Commandments, Main Title (1:59)
2. Desert Passage (3:59)
3. The Greatest Sorrow (1:09)
4. Return To Egypt (1:54)
5. Moses Starts A New Life (2:18)
6. Chosen Ones (1:19)
7. The Burning Bush (3:27)
8. Lost And Found (1:19)
9. Call To War At The Red Sea (2:22)
10. Destruction Of The Calf (1:41)
11. Purification (:59)
12. Palace Farewell (2:27)
13. Becoming A Family (2:33)
14. A Bond That Never Breaks (2:19)
15. The Secret Prince Is Born (2:12)
16. No Miracles Today (1:58)
17. Nothing Stays The Same (2:31)
18. Passover (2:21)
19. Murder And Escape (2:01)
20. The Promised Land (1:38)
21. Trouble In The Old City (2:04)
22. Ascending The Heights (1:40)
23. In Front Of The Pyramids (1:28)
24. A True Gift (Shaya) (1:44)

Friday, October 27, 2006

I like bowling.

Last night I went out with people from work.

For most of you, that ain't new. For me, that's amazing because I almost never go for public things - Christmas parties? Uh-uh. Nights out? Not for me. But I decided to go bowling with a bunch of my workmates (the fact that I've taken today off helped - I live a lot further away than the others); sadly they had to cover for me fee-wise, but I can give it back.

So how'd it go? Well, it wound up with us playing two games (me and Anna had never bowled before so we were on one team with more experienced folks), and Anneza, whose praises I've sung before on this blog, explaining what the buzzing sound was when I overstepped the mark and had to forfeit my scores. Twice. I'm sure that's what cost my side the first match, especially since there were five of us playing a team of four. Curses.

But it was fun; us novices got better as it went on, and I actually got two spares (no strikes but that was to be expected). AND my team won the second match!

And I may have mentioned that Anneza looks like Michelle Branch. I have to recant; she looks more like Vanessa Lengies from Stick It and American Dreams. Which is fine with me, because I like her more anyway. (Showed up because of her? Me?)

Saturday, October 21, 2006

Cindy selling herself.

Cindy Crawford is the Krusty the Klown of modelling, in terms of endorsements (though I'm sure even she would draw the line at radiation counters and calculators). But the most impressive thing she's sold of late isn't Remington or Turkish leather, but... herself.

Yes, it does tie in with Remington, but this auction to be with her in New York (one for men, one for women) is for a good cause - and I like how the one for men is going for twice the rate of the one for women. I wonder why. :)

Too bad I don't have around $8000...

Finally, another update.

Cindy: Going from a very quiet beginning at work to a very, very busy ending. Makes Saturday mornings all the better.

Feltz: Aches and stiffness thanks to hours spent bagging up very heavy books. Not fun.

Cindy: As part of the unending commercialisation of my girl Cindy, she's selling herself. Or leasing herself. See the next post.

Feltz: Missing Las Vegas after pointing out to Jen that it was on last night (in the UK that is), thus denying us the chance to compare and contrast views on Nikki Cox.

Cindy: Chris Cornell's "You Know My Name" being missing from the Casino Royale CD. That is one of the worst Bond songs ever, so we're talking no great loss.

Feltz: DJs who make "funny" phone calls. Stop it. Now. Please.

Cindy: Scarlett Johansson singing. Not bad at all...

Feltz: ...too bad it had to be Gershwin. I don't like Gershwin. Rubs me the wrong way.

Cindy: But kudos to Scarlett for making George and Ira palatable in a way that only Peter Sellers has otherwise managed. Maybe she can tackle Tom Waits songs so that they're intelligible. Or take this to heart.

Friday, October 20, 2006

Yes, another post mentioning Hayden Panettiere.

1. Switch over to Sky Movies.
2. See that Raising Helen is starting.
3. Settle in to enjoy looking at Kate Hudson.
4. Notice the additional presence of Hayden Panettiere.
5. See them in the same scene fairly early on.
6. Realise that Hayden was a hottie for sure back then.
7. Realise that back then when this was made she was like fourteen.
8. Switch over to The A-Team to stop feeling dirty.

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

It is time to get geeky: The Music Of Candyman.

(Caleb Knightley's) music grates my last nerve but is apparently Philip Glass's apprentice (I'm beginning to see why my professors thought that Glass is a self-absorbed prick)... - From a blog whose owner really, really hates Keira Knightley.

Minimalism, for those who don't know, is a form of music that's based on repeating the same few notes ad nauseum. Philip Glass is the most famous perpetrator/exponent of this kind of thing, but give him credit for managing to balance concert hall composing with work for the dreaded cinema (Koyaanisqatsi, Secret Window, Hamburger Hill, The Thin Blue Line, Taking Lives, The Illusionist and so on - not to mention his theme music for the ill-advised Night Stalker redo). Give him debits, though, for coming up with music that's an acquired taste which I personally have yet to acquire - his work for the first two Candyman films is a case in point (for some reason he was unavailable for the third direct-to-video one). I got it out of Charing Cross Library, and I am so glad that it's on a loan - I couldn't stand having this permanently.

Put together on one CD because there wasn't enough music in the first movie for an album, this isn't traditional horror movie music; it's unnerving, but it's also monotonous - thanks to Glass's style the tracks all seem longer than they are, and it almost never varies. A change from the norm, but I had to cleanse my mind out immediately afterwards with Ghostbusters and Mission: Impossible III. I'm sure his fans would argue the point, however.

1. Music Box (1:05)
Candyman Suite:
2. Cabrini Green (3:27)
3. Helen's Theme (1:56)
4. Face to Razor (6:13)
5. Floating Candyman (7:04)
6. Return to Cabrini (9:46)
7. It Was Always You, Helen (3:07)
Candyman II: Farewell To The Flesh:
8. Daniel's Flashback (2:55)
9. The Slave Quarters (5:22)
10. Annie's Theme (3:33)
11. All Falls Apart (3:13)
12. The Demise of Candyman (4:05)
13. Reverend's Walk (1:09)

Thursday, October 12, 2006

Apologies and flowers and boxes of diabetic chocolate all round.

Because I want some, dammit.

First apology to Sharon for clogging the kitchen sink up; all the caustic soda in the world poured down the drain didn't help, but a plunger did. With the best will in the world I'm sorry, and I hope it doesn't happen again.

Second to Mike over at The Bilson Archives, for circa 1:30 UK time this morning when he IM'd me and I said nothing but "hi," even when he buzzed me twice. This was because I was absolutely not completely awake when I trotted out there, even unto nodding off while online (why I didn't just go back to sleep and go online an hour later I don't know). So I couldn't talk to him, and I'm sorry.

Then to Jessica Alba, for staying linked to Egotastic! and the rest. Finally got fed up with all those interchangeable showbiz blogs giving her shit because she won't take her clothes off, so they're gone. Out of here. The old heave-ho. From now on it's Technorati searches and SuperiorPics for me.

And finally (for now) to Eliza Dushku; the long-overdue and aborted second season of Tru Calling starts tonight on Sky One at 8pm. It'll have to be caught on the repeat, what with Veronica Mars having that same slot on LivingTV. That's life.

Sunday, October 08, 2006

Rihanna, Rihanna, Rihanna.




And now that I've probably driven off Butch for good (though not Evil), another Barbados-related piece that I found pretty interesting, from the magazine Circuit. This kind of thing shouldn't be a factor nowadays, but then again in a world where Black Entertainment Television and the MOBO Awards exist...

“Do not adjust the dial on your stereo, I am black.” These are the words from Annie, lead presenter/programmer on Mix 96.9 FM. In Barbados, like many other Caribbean islands, rock and its derivatives are generally viewed as taboo ‘white’ music.
Perhaps as a result of the eclectic music on her playlist (Annie stuffs her airtime with alternative, rock, pop and every shade of world music imaginable), many listeners seem to automatically tag a particular profile on Annie. The former model and Miss Bikini Barbados titleholder admits that she’s caused a few raised eyebrows when she initially meets people. "Some people will say stuff like I always thought you were white!" Some listeners have also called her at the station, asking what race she was – something she says she takes no offence to.
In Barbados, soca, hip-hop, reggae and other genres are viewed as more mainstream, and it’s sometimes a hard sell convincing Bajans that the average radio listener enjoys anything other than ‘urban’ genres of music. However, Annie contends that despite the stereotypes of music in Barbados, many Barbadians are rock fans, even if they are ‘closet’ rock fans, afraid to let people know they actually enjoy the selection she plays on air. To prove a point, she pulls out a collection of photos showing winners from her on air promotions. The vast majority of winners were indeed black, a point which Annie gleefully emphasized. “Music should never have a colour,” she muses.
She admits that it was a lot harder to be a rock fan in her earlier days. While in school she could usually be found holed up under the headphones of her Walkman (iPods weren’t around) listening to rock — a pastime which found her called into the principal’s office on at least one occasion.

Annie no longer has to report to the principal’s office to justify her listening preferences and seems determined to expose her listeners to a bit of everything that’s out there - no matter the genre.
Annie Quickfacts

Favourite Colour: Black
Favourite Movie: The Piano
Favourite Song: U2: "In the Name of Love"
Favourite Sport: Snowboarding
Jeans or skirts: Jeans all the way
Heels or sneakers: Heels
Favourite hobby: Taking care of 2 year-old son Tristan
Favourite Actor: Sean Connery
Favourite Actress: Charlize Theron
Favourite Ice Cream: Rocher

Diabetes pros and cons.

The best thing about being diabetic is that you get to leave work early for doctors' appointments.
The worst thing about being diabetic is just about everything else; like having to add yet another pill to the list (five now). >:( And having to sort out blood tests; mid-to-late November's the next one. Just thankful it's not Type I.

Thursday, October 05, 2006

It is time to get geeky: James Clavell's Noble House.

It's pretty safe to say that Jen's never seen Tai-Pan, mainly because neither has most of the rest of the world; it was a big critical and commercial flop in 1986. Which may explain why James (Shogun) Clavell's modern-day followup, Noble House, was filmed two years later as a miniseries with Pierce Brosnan (after Remington Steele but before James Bond) and Deborah Raffin (who had prior experience with non-world-shaking miniseries after replacing Bess Armstrong in Lace 2 - she was the one who was the bitch who was Phoebe Cates's mother).
Maurice Jarre, who did Shogun and Tai-Pan, may well have been courted by DeLaurentiis Entertainment Group to score the miniseries, but Paul Chihara ended up doing it; I got burned from his exceedingly boring King of the Olympics, but this time the qualities that drove me to tape off the main title when CBC showed it (about the only thing I remember from the series itself) are throughout the record. Said opening music combines a majestic fanfare for the titular Oriental business establishment and the series' lush love theme, both of which wear rather better over the course of the album than the more threatening cues - the latter, apart from the unintentional comedy value of such low-rent music being credited to the London Symphony Orchestra (which performed the score under the baton of the composer), sound like they belong in a bad '80s crime show. To be fair, when this approach is mixed with the main theme ("Dunross") it does manage to avoid sucking, so what do I know?
Presentation of the album on CD (by Colosseum, under license from Varese Sarabande) could've been better - a few of the cues are misnumbered (i.e. there are two number 5s, two number 6s etc on the packaging) and there's almost no information about the music or the miniseries apart from the basics, but it's no frisbee. And in these days of minimal TV scoring (for the most part, that is), this kind of blast from the past is welcome. The Thorn Birds it's not, but it doesn't have to be.

1. Main Title (2:07)
2. Stormy Night (2:39)
3. Taipan In Love (4:12)
4. John Chen's Plot (2:03)
5. Love Boat To Macao (3:12)
6. 4 Finger Wu (2:06)
7. Dunross (1:38)
8. The Curse (2:49)
9. The Day After (4:10)
10. Opium Drop (2:17)
11. Linc's Death (1:59)
12. Coin Joined (2:35)
13. Finale (4:25)

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Midweek Update.

Cindy: Not managing to see Heroes on NBC's site, or on YouTube thanks to NBC Universal having the pilot removed (I know the screener's still up there, but it's got music from Batman Begins on it and is therefore NOT THE REAL THING). Counts as a Cindy because now it's all anticipation for when it starts here...

Feltz (since Vanessas Marcil, Anne Hudgens, Carlton and Lengies have overcome the problem of that first name): ...next year.

Cindy: Returning to work and getting back into the stream of things quietly instead of being thrust into tons of the stuff.

Feltz: Returning to work.

Cindy: Sharon's new guy. He's a vast improvement on the last one.

Feltz: The return of penalty payments from Abbey National. Sob.

Cindy: The Pigskin Prognosticators (Jen's Yahoo! team); I'm not sucking as much as I feared. So far, anyway.

Feltz-ish: The four-CD MGM music sampler I got a few weeks ago. Lots of nice stuff BUT too many of the tracks are snippets instead of full pieces. Grrr.

Cindy: Saving my holidays; more to look forward to.

Feltz: Having problems uploading pictures at home (Rihanna coming, I promise Evil).

And that Amish school shooting in America, and that father in London who got killed on his own doorstep... fuck. Again - FUCK.

Saturday, September 30, 2006

DOA: Not quite living up to its title.

There have actually been good video game movies.
By this I mean movies like
WarGames, Cloak and Dagger and Tron - movies that had video games at the core of the story but weren't based on real video games. I do not mean movies like Mortal Kombat, not Street Fighter, not Lara Croft: Tomb Raider - The Cradle of Life and definitely not Super Mario Bros. DOA: Dead Or Alive (produced by Paul W.S. Anderson, not a good sign - I've never forgiven him for Mortal Kombat and Event Horizon) is from a real game, but it sucks less than most of its ilk. Not that that's saying much, because it's still something of a missed opportunity.
Never mind the plot - island princess Kasumi leaves her sanctuary to track down her brother at the Dead Or Alive tournament, wrestler Tina wants to prove that she's a real fighter, thief Christie is out to steal the cash, blah blah blah - the movie knows what counts; babes and brawls, and it's got lots of both of them. Devon Aoki (Kasumi), Jaime Pressly (Tina), Holly Valance (Christie), Sarah Carter (the adopted daughter of evil Eric Roberts) and Natassia Malthe (the bodyguard sworn to kill Kasumi for leaving) adequately fill the quota for the former - they even throw in a completely gratuitous volleyball game! - and whenever the movie threatens to be swamped under a serious story moment you can bet the swords will be flying and the booty will be kicked very soon. The movie also has an endearingly tongue-in-cheek tone (which has to be courtesy primary screenwriter J.F. Lawton, he of Pretty Woman, Under Siege and VIP fame) and it comes in at well under 90 minutes... but somehow it doesn't take off the way it should.
It's tempting to say it's because of the acting - Devon in particular behaves as if English is her fifth language, and Eric Roberts... well... - but who goes to movies like this for the acting? The problem is more to do with Cory Yuen's direction - the action's heavily stylized but at its most thrilling when it's filmed straightforward; no abrupt changes in speed, no overactive cameras. It's also a pity that the makers upped the "hard to take seriously" factor by including comical sound effects for blows; you never got that on The A-Team, thankfully. And ultimately it falls short on the guilty pleasure scale compared to the first Charlie's Angels, although I did admittedly watch it after spending hours and hours on various buses AND after eating an entire spiced loaf by myself. I think I'd have liked it more if I had been a bit more alert... but Bloodsport for the Zoo generation is still preferable to Bloodsport for the Jean Claude Van Damme generation.

Sunday, September 24, 2006

High School Musical: Getcha getcha getcha getcha head in the game (or Cindy: Vanessa).

High School Musical is corny... it's about as realistic as "The Bash Street Kids"... it's never going to be mistaken for a classic...
...and I adored it.
Just as anybody watching Prison Break and expecting it to be The Glass House or Oz is grasping entirely the wrong end of the stick,so anyone watching this expecting Jesus Christ Superstar will be inevitably disappointed. True, the songs aren't exactly Menken & Ashman; yes, some of the singing sounds treated; and for sure, some of the lip-syncing (especially Vanessa Anne Hudgens') is Hall of Fame poor. But everyone proclaiming this the Worst Musical Ever really needs to take a look at something truly inept like From Justin To Kelly,and then come back and apologise to everyone involved with this TV movie; unlike that misbegotten vehicle, High School Musical overcomes its limitations and emerges as what it wants to be - a charming little diversion.
Zac Efron and Miss Hudgens make up for their involvement with Summerland and Thunderbirds respectively, but Alyson Reed as the cellphone-hating drama teacher and The Suite Life of Zack and Cody's Ashley Tisdale as the egotistical would-be scheming ice queen of the school are the standouts (I say would-be because the movie's biggest roadblock in the way of our heroes isn't actually placed by her); the movie's extremely eager to please and doesn't have a mean bone in its body, and Kenny Ortega's improved as a director since the stodgy Newsies - this is great fun throughout, and the characters are likable and sympathetic (and, it has to be said, very attractive, which is hardly a minus for this kind of thing... as you can tell from the list down yonder).
Its message about it being okay for people to be who they are may be obvious, but it's harmless and appealing - it's aimed squarely at younger audiences, but not all older viewers will be squirming... I say not all because Sharon is 38 (two years older than me) and likes Grey's Anatomy, but if it was a choice between an hour with boring old Meredith Grey and watching Troy and Gabrielle breaking into "Breaking Free," I know which one I'd go for. High School Musical's a delight, which is more than can be said for quite a few Disney movies made for the BIG screen lately.
This could be the start of something big indeed. (But I'm not going to buy the soundtrack - I might get the DVD though...)

Friday, September 22, 2006

Cindy, Cindy, Cindy.

First off, let me get one thing clear - I'm not going to turn my back on Cindy. I've stuck with her through the Charlie ad, through Fair Game, through the Times ad, through the Letterman-poking-fun-at-her-makeup thing, through her website, through Presley giving paparazzi the finger... even the lapdancing. And if she's done the odd bit of babysitting for Pamela Anderson, as has been claimed, that's okay too. I've called myself Cindylover1969 online for as long as I've been online, and I'm not going to change.
But this Melissa Odabash business is worrying. It's worrying personally for two reasons.
One is because of my reaction - maybe it's because I'm not a parent, but those pictures of Kaia really didn't ring any JonBenet Ramsey-type bells in my mind. Which is not to say I wasn't filled with anger... but it was anger at people attacking Cindy. I hate attacking her, no matter what. (I dread to see what some of the tabloid columnists will say about this.) And attacking her over what are basically innocent pictures as well... pictures which aren't even on the official website anymore. (And which I linked to in a previous post, because there is no way I'm uploading them here.)
But the other thing that bothers me is the picture that caused the most fuss... I wish I could say I was revolted by it. But every time it pops in my mind, I do my damnedest to get rid of it, because while it's definitely not kiddie porn (you'll never convince me Cindy would let her children do anything like that) it's hard to entirely disagree about the sexual aspect. It's true that pedophiles can get stimulation everywhere, but when I see pictures of Cindy's daughter I want to think she's adorable (which she is) and that she's already inherited her mother's beauty (which she has)... but I do not want to think about her the way I think about her mother. I like young girls, but not that young. I'd like to hear Cindy's view, as opposed to her publicist's. And I'd also like to know Kaia's opinion - but they aren't talking.
But I'd especially like to know if something's going on with Cindy... what with this, her business in St. Tropez and her display for the Ultimate Fighting Champion, I'm starting to come close to wondering.
One thing for sure - I still support her, I still have her as my #1, and I still love Cindy Crawford.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Vanessa (I still have to change that): Yahoo! Cindy: McDelicious.

Due to the fact that Yahoo! TV won't let me watch the first episode of Heroes on account of my not being in the US, and since I a) don't torrent and b) don't know how anyway, here are some very nice pictures of Katharine McPhee to console myself. (EDIT: Katharine is so sexy that I forgot to bold the programme title originally. Sorry.)



Monday, September 18, 2006

Cindy in action, and taking it on the chin.





Cindy attending the fourth annual Runway For Life. Sheer bliss. (Sadly I had to take two down because they were blurry.)

The taking it on the chin bit comes from complaints on other blogs about her daughter Kaia's modelling Melissa Odabash swimwear. Some say it's one step away from child pornography, others are more liberal...
but judge for yourself.

Why?

So on Saturday I'm walking down Kilburn High Road after looking inside a Blockbuster, and suddenly I hear a woman screaming that she's being robbed - out comes a teenager with several DVDs running for it. I run after him, but since he's younger and lighter than I am there's not much chance of my catching him - especially since he says "I got a knife" just before chucking the DVDs over a brick wall.
Yes, I did see a police car coming along; yes, someone asked me if I managed to catch him; and yes, I did look into looking for them on the other side of that wall (I couldn't get to them). But I should have caught the guy. I should have gone back there a little sooner. And I shouldn't have been put off by his threat.
I don't know how to feel. Proud that I tried to do something good? Bad that I confirmed what I knew all along - that I'm a coward? I'll settle for frustrated. Frustrated at myself for not getting the kid; frustrated that people will do stuff like that for a damn DVD.
And sorry that I couldn't do anything for the woman in the store; she was crying about what had happened, distraught. That was worst of all. For her sake, I hope they catch the little shit. Or if they don't, I hope the DVDs he stole freeze up.

Friday, September 15, 2006

Special all-Cindy Weekend Update.

Because we could all use something to cheer us up (not least Butch).

Cindy: Following in the footsteps of
Denise Van Outen, Wonder Woman and The Hoff, Ashlee Simpson is going to be appearing in Chicago in the West End (as Roxie Hart, so more appropriately following in the footsteps of Ginger Rogers and Renee Zellweger). And how does the Haylie Duff to Jessica's Hilary qualify as a Cindy? Well, I never go to the theatre so I'll never see her - and as for the rest of you, you don't live in London!

Cindy: Colosseum's service. I sent off for
The 13th Warrior (terrible movie, but great Goldsmith) and Noble House last Friday, and I got them on Tuesday (and Colosseum's in Germany!). And they threw in a promo of L'Avion as a bonus. I do like them.

Cindy: Vanessa. Vanessa Minnillo, that is. (Even if her website subscribes to the MuffinMan Updating System.) What with her and Marcil, I may have managed to counteract the whole Feltz association - any suggestions for a new name for the downer category?

Cindy: Ratings for Bush's latest dictat slipping. Winston Churchill once said that Americans generally do the right thing once they've tried all the alternatives; keep it up.

Cindy: Sharon continuing to date, and thankfully avoiding anyone reminiscent of the BBC.

Cindy: LivingTV announcing they're getting the third season of Veronica Mars, and Sci-Fi UK announcing they've gotten Heroes. (Admittedly Sci-Fi is part of the NBC Universal family (makers of Heroes) but at least it's showing up.) Finally.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

"And the pity of it is that these things cannot be confined to the Twilight Zone."

Butch blogged this piece by Keith Olbermann. So did Mike. And so am I.

Half a lifetime ago, I worked in this now-empty space. And for 40 days after the attacks, I worked here again, trying to make sense of what happened, and was yet to happen, as a reporter.
All the time, I knew that the very air I breathed contained the remains of thousands of people, including four of my friends, two in the planes and -- as I discovered from those "missing posters" seared still into my soul -- two more in the Towers.
And I knew too, that this was the pyre for hundreds of New York policemen and firemen, of whom my family can claim half a dozen or more, as our ancestors.
I belabor this to emphasize that, for me this was, and is, and always shall be, personal.
And anyone who claims that I and others like me are "soft," or have "forgotten" the lessons of what happened here is at best a grasping, opportunistic, dilettante and at worst, an idiot whether he is a commentator, or a Vice President, or a President.
However, of all the things those of us who were here five years ago could have forecast -- of all the nightmares that unfolded before our eyes, and the others that unfolded only in our minds -- none of us could have predicted this.
Five years later this space is still empty.
Five years later there is no memorial to the dead.
Five years later there is no building rising to show with proud defiance that we would not have our America wrung from us, by cowards and criminals.
Five years later this country's wound is still open.
Five years later this country's mass grave is still unmarked.
Five years later this is still just a background for a photo-op.
It is beyond shameful.
At the dedication of the Gettysburg Memorial -- barely four months after the last soldier staggered from another Pennsylvania field -- Mr. Lincoln said, "we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract."
Lincoln used those words to immortalize their sacrifice.
Today our leaders could use those same words to rationalize their reprehensible inaction. "We cannot dedicate, we can not consecrate, we can not hallow this ground." So we won't.
Instead they bicker and buck pass. They thwart private efforts, and jostle to claim credit for initiatives that go nowhere. They spend the money on irrelevant wars, and elaborate self-congratulations, and buying off columnists to write how good a job they're doing instead of doing any job at all.
Five years later, Mr. Bush, we are still fighting the terrorists on these streets. And look carefully, sir, on these 16 empty acres. The terrorists are clearly, still winning.
And, in a crime against every victim here and every patriotic sentiment you mouthed but did not enact, you have done nothing about it.
And there is something worse still than this vast gaping hole in this city, and in the fabric of our nation. There is its symbolism of the promise unfulfilled, the urgent oath, reduced to lazy execution.
The only positive on 9/11 and the days and weeks that so slowly and painfully followed it was the unanimous humanity, here, and throughout the country. The government, the President in particular, was given every possible measure of support.
Those who did not belong to his party -- tabled that.
Those who doubted the mechanics of his election -- ignored that.
Those who wondered of his qualifications -- forgot that.
History teaches us that nearly unanimous support of a government cannot be taken away from that government by its critics. It can only be squandered by those who use it not to heal a nation's wounds, but to take political advantage.
Terrorists did not come and steal our newly-regained sense of being American first, and political, fiftieth. Nor did the Democrats. Nor did the media. Nor did the people.
The President -- and those around him -- did that.
They promised bi-partisanship, and then showed that to them, "bi-partisanship" meant that their party would rule and the rest would have to follow, or be branded, with ever-escalating hysteria, as morally or intellectually confused, as appeasers, as those who, in the Vice President's words yesterday, "validate the strategy of the terrorists."
They promised protection, and then showed that to them "protection" meant going to war against a despot whose hand they had once shaken, a despot who we now learn from our own Senate Intelligence Committee, hated al-Qaida as much as we did.
The polite phrase for how so many of us were duped into supporting a war, on the false premise that it had 'something to do' with 9/11 is "lying by implication."
The impolite phrase is "impeachable offense."
Not once in now five years has this President ever offered to assume responsibility for the failures that led to this empty space, and to this, the current, curdled, version of our beloved country.
Still, there is a last snapping flame from a final candle of respect and fairness: even his most virulent critics have never suggested he alone bears the full brunt of the blame for 9/11.
Half the time, in fact, this President has been so gently treated, that he has seemed not even to be the man most responsible for anything in his own administration.
Yet what is happening this very night?
A mini-series, created, influenced --
possibly financed by -- the most radical and cold of domestic political Machiavellis, continues to be televised into our homes.
The documented truths of the last fifteen years are replaced by bald-faced lies; the talking points of the current regime parroted; the whole sorry story blurred, by spin, to make the party out of office seem vacillating and impotent, and the party in office, seem like the only option.
How dare you, Mr. President, after taking cynical advantage of the unanimity and love, and transmuting it into fraudulent war and needless death, after monstrously transforming it into fear and suspicion and turning that fear into the campaign slogan of three elections? How dare you -- or those around you -- ever "spin" 9/11?
Just as the terrorists have succeeded -- are still succeeding -- as long as there is no memorial and no construction here at Ground Zero.
So, too, have they succeeded, and are still succeeding as long as this government uses 9/11 as a wedge to pit Americans against Americans.
This is an odd point to cite a television program, especially one from March of 1960. But as Disney's continuing sell-out of the truth (and this country) suggests, even television programs can be powerful things.
And long ago, a series called The Twilight Zone broadcast a riveting episode entitled "The Monsters Are Due On Maple Street."
In brief: a meteor sparks rumors of an invasion by extra-terrestrials disguised as humans. The electricity goes out. A neighbor pleads for calm. Suddenly his car -- and only his car -- starts. Someone suggests he must be the alien. Then another man's lights go on. As charges and suspicion and panic overtake the street, guns are inevitably produced. An "alien" is shot -- but he turns out to be just another neighbor, returning from going for help. The camera pulls back to a near-by hill, where two extra-terrestrials are seen manipulating a small device that can jam electricity. The veteran tells his novice that there's no need to actually attack, that you just turn off a few of the human machines and then, "they pick the most dangerous enemy they can find, and it's themselves."
And then, in perhaps his finest piece of writing, Rod Serling sums it up with words of remarkable prescience, given where we find ourselves tonight: "The tools of conquest do not necessarily come with bombs and explosions and fallout. There are weapons that are simply thoughts, attitudes, prejudices, to be found only in the minds of men.
"For the record, prejudices can kill and suspicion can destroy, and a thoughtless, frightened search for a scapegoat has a fallout all its own -- for the children, and the children yet unborn."
When those who dissent are told time and time again -- as we will be, if not tonight by the President, then tomorrow by his portable public chorus -- that he is preserving our freedom, but that if we use any of it, we are somehow un-American... When we are scolded, that if we merely question, we have "forgotten the lessons of 9/11"... look into this empty space behind me and the bi-partisanship upon which this administration also did not build, and tell me:
Who has left this hole in the ground?
We have not forgotten, Mr. President.
You have.
May this country forgive you.