TarFest 2011 Just Needs a Little Shovel Magic

Hot on the heels of his recent LobsterFest triumph, we have another music fest which benefitted from the Mr. Shovel magic. Last year, Mr. Shovel curated the music fest entirely. This year, he was just brought in to fine tune, and add some touches. Those touches polished this festival of music and art in the LaBrea Tar Pits for a magical Sunday afternoon in the park.

Sadly, I missed some of the early bands (Ash Panda and Infantree). But I got there early enough to hear the soulful stirrings of A House for Lions. Really poignant lyrics. An excellent lead-in to the band of the afternoon (Everest). A Check One Two favorite, Obi Best, lent her girlish softness to a beautiful afternoon.

All around, there were food trucks and painting happening. Children ran with hula hoops (and some adults too). Some kids blew bubbles. It was fun. A marvel of creativity and art.

The draw indeed seemed to be local favorite Everest, with crowds packing the small area for their set.

(Although Everest is also a Check One Two fav, this time, the festival had already booked them.) But Shovel's magic lies in polishing what diamond is already there. Obi Best and A House for Lions were perfect lead-ins to Everest. And the perfect close out?

As Shovel knew, to follow a band with a following, you have to get another band with a following. And there are those in this town who LOVE their Saint Motel. Right after Everest finished, people started lining the stage to see Saint Motel. (Mostly girls, cause Saint Motel is, after all, filled with cute guys...) 

Somewhere midway through, I started speaking, as I am wont to do, to friends and acquaintances about what radio they are listening to now. It's still hard for me, after all this time, to watch a group of local bands and NOT think of our beloved Indie 103.1. Especially since we were so close to it, watching this concert. The usual answers came up: KEXP, KCRW. I heard a new one: WFMU (East Coast). Some people still listen to Pandora, or Last.fm. I'm sure once next week's Facebook changes come about the answer will also be Spotify more than it is now.

The unspoken answer is: we still miss Indie 103.1 terribly. And nothing has really replaced it since it left our terrestrial airwaves. There isn't a concert that goes by that I don't miss the Shovel magic. There isn't a show on the air (terrestrial or otherwise) that doesn't benefit from more Shovel (Have you listened to the dreadful Jonesy's Jukebox, now that Shovel isn't there? I rest my case.). Sure Indie 103.1 dot com still exists, and "content director" Tedd Roman was spotted in the crowd, Mayor of the Beer Tent, but Indie's magic left when Shovel did. Everyone who used to listen (and doesn't now) knows that.

So I was shocked when I wandered over to the merch tent to pick up some band CDs and saw this bumper sticker amongst the items:

I gasped, and said, "Indie 103?" (Mostly because I was shocked that someone had the balls to use the old logo (albeit badly... I mean, really? a 45? where's the hole?). The green kid looked at me and said brightly, "It's a great radio station, you should listen." There we are in the shadow of the House that Shovel Built, its absence palpable, so much that I still think about it every day and miss it. Thinking about how I've stood at hundreds of merch tables, just like this, one of its proudest fans, so glad to be a part of it. Scooping up every available piece of Indie gear to show my allegiance. But rather than let the tears well up in my eyes just then, I just stare at him glazedly, and say: "Really? I'll have to check it out."

Two of the most brilliant musical minds in Los Angeles, (l-r) our own Mr. Shovel and Watusi Rodeo's Chris Morris, enjoying TarFest. You can thankfully still hear Chris' radio show on the Scion Network here.  You can catch Mr. Shovel's magic at Mr. Shovel  or at some curated concerts around town.

LobsterFest 2011: Mr. Shovel does it again!

There are those in this town who think they can throw together a few songs and call it radio. There are also those who think they can throw together a few bands and call it a music festival. Our beloved Mr. Shovel proved once again this weekend why he is the only king to this throne. No, king is probably the wrong word. Kingmaker, perhaps. And for those wondering who are going to be the hot new bands this year, please write down the names of the acts that Mr. Shovel booked on this year's LobsterFest bill. As last year's (back when no one knew who they were) Fitz & the Tantrums can tell you.

Ostensibly, this is a "KROQ" festival, as the glaringly inappropriate and ugly radio station backdrop will scream at you. The backdrop truly mars the magic going on up on stage, most of the time, and the festival would be smarter and better served to just have a plain backdrop, or one promoting the LobsterFestival, which has now, thanks to former Indie 103.1 music director Mr. Shovel (and NOT KROQ) become a must-see music festival of note.

Let me clue you in to what exactly is "KROQ" about this festival: the very first act, "Lucid Dream Factory" who were "winners of the Cabo Wabo Your Shot to Rock contest" (which was supposed to be two bands, but ended up being only one for some reason).

Berlin, perhaps the only band which KROQ might play, closed out the festival. I loathe and despise this band who, after all, only has one hit (some would say "five"). Luckily for me, I had Emmy obligations   (MicheBelz Hollywood) and couldn't stay for Berlin, but they are crowd-pleasers, and I can vouch for the fact that I think they had record (as in all areas filled with people) crowds, very likely most there to see Berlin for free.

So every band who took this stage over the three-day long festival (except the Cabo Wabo contest one), owes its credit for being there to Mr. Shovel, and should thank him profusely for their appearance, if they have any doubt as to who put them there. It wasn't KROQ.

KROQ is like the neighbor that you hear arguing loudly with their wife at 3 am. Mr. Shovel (whose artistry you can find at Mr. Shovel) is like the lover, whispering magic into your ear. Now which one do YOU want to listen to?

Let me clue you in further to the workings of Shovel's magic. The reason that radio station Indie 103.1 became so beloved by so many was that Mr. Shovel carefully wove together the music to create an aural pastiche of music that was orgasmic to one's ears. The same is true of his music festivals and events that he curates.

One of the hallmarks of his craft on the radio was the way the songs so seamlessly flowed, one into the next, appearing there logically and perfectly. The words and the music combined to flow, like the pages of a book you can't stop reading, a logical progression, but each getting better and better and better (you can hear the opposite of this by listening to whomever is programming Indie 103.1 dot com now as the music grinds, jarringly, one bad song into another totally unconnected one).

So, too, is the progression of his music festivals. Each band, carefully pulled from the ranks of mostly local bands (even local to the Long Beach area, because Mr. Shovel is good that way) flows seamlessly into the next one. Someday, I truly hope that obligations of job and real life don't keep getting in the way, because how this festival is meant to be seen is from the opening act to the closing one, like that book that starts on page 1.

Shovel's magic started Friday night, truly opening with local band, White Arrows, flowing into (Long Beach locals) The Fling, closing out with Australia's Andy Clockwise. Just in those three, you see a taste, an appetizer, if you would, of the treats waiting for you the next two days. Awesome and different local act White Arrows, country tinged Long Beach locals The Fling, and showman and creative force Andy Clockwise. Those themes would be repeated all weekend.

The Damselles & TC4 kicked off the event on Saturday. This flowed into a repeat act from last year, Judson McKinney (watch this one!), who last year performed as "Judson & Mary." We are going to be hearing more about him.

Super sexy Valley girls who dig the misspellings, Deap Vally, performed next. By this point in the day's musical smorgasbord, the Shovel workings become clear. Local favs Light FM step to the stage. Followed by more local favs, Eastern Conference Champions. Followed by one of LA's best bands around, Shadow Shadow Shade. Shadow Shadow Shade took the stage right at dusk. They performed in daylight, the next band was in shadows and shade. It's those little Shovel touches you notice.

All of these bands (Light FM, Eastern Conference Champions, Shadow Shadow Shade) are bands you DO want to check out if you see them performing around town. You will not be disappointed. What they share is a compelling stage presence, as well as a mastery of their music. Shadow Shadow Shade, for example, has a woman singer who formerly sang opera. They weave their craft in front of you, and leave you going, "WOW."

But the night is just beginning.

Another local fave, He's My Brother, She's My Sister, steps up. I'd always heard good things about them, but never seen them before. Their performance proved why they are also a band worth checking out. Colorful (literally and figuratively, did you see that GREEN stand-up bass?) and inventive, they really rocked it.

But just when you think this festival is all about local, indie (or Indie) type bands, Shovel's magic once again shows itself. What came next is what I call the Section Quartet moment. I remember looking at last year's schedule incredulously. The Section Quartet? Classical? What are they doing here? I should know by now not to doubt Mr. Shovel's skill.

This moment happened with this year's The Taiko Project. I really wasn't aware that the whole "taiko" music has become a thing. Or that we have one of its best artisans right here in Los Angeles. Guess that's what Shovel is here for, to educate us to what is right here under our very noses. (The Section Quartet, too, is an LA band that doesn't get nearly enough play.)

So let me set the scene for you. All day long, people have been milling about, having fun on the wonderfully expanded lawn area, playing with their kids, eating their lobster or whatever, chatting amongst friends, dancing, if the spirit moved them. (LobsterFest is, for my money, one of the best venues for packing people in to see lots of bands. There is room to move, there is great food available, and the bands are fantastic. What is not to love? Well, except for that hideous radio station backdrop...) Anyway...

It's now evening and we are about to see this band called The Taiko Project. I honestly don't even know if I can do justice to describing what happened next. Everyone started filling in the seats that had been spotty with guests all day (most people preferred to sit on the lawn to listen). Everyone seemed to want to get close to hear this next band. And by everyone, I am describing what really became the mix of Shovel's audience at Indie 103.1 too: indie hipsters, people who had just stopped by for the lobster and heard music, music aficionados who knew this was going to be something, goth girls, proficient jazz artists and rock musicians who knew something special was at hand, and lots of every day folk.

They start bringing out the drums. The taiko drums, all of unique shapes and sizes. So many people on stage in costume. And they start waving their sticks and banging on their drums with magical movements and precision and your breath disappears. They move, fluidly, like dancers, going from one drum to the next, so it becomes a visual and aural feast. The audience has become silent, rapt with awe. They have not been silent all day. (They were similarly silent for The Section Quartet.)

This is really what I want to say, that was coursing through my mind as I was watching. That although The Taiko Project's music was quite uniquely their own, the fact that they were on that stage, at that point in the program, was quite uniquely a Shovel creation. He has always been about introducing people to sounds they'd never heard before, and wouldn't soon forget. (He would demur if you asked him about it, modest and humble that he is, and say that, "No, it's the bands who create this magic." I disagree. It was in this moment that it really crystallized that it was Shovel painting this aural pallette for us. In fact, the moment was so profound that, for me, that ugly radio station backdrop disappeared during Taiko, and it was just a movement of music and sound and art being created.)

I have never heard music like The Taiko Project created. It was rather like the show "Stomp," if you've seen it, performed with actual drums instead of found objects. And more fluid movement. Movement between the performers like dance, like poetry. Beautiful, stunningly beautiful.

They literally took my breath away. There was a half-hour break before the next band. I needed every moment of that to recover from Taiko. (They recommended that people go watch a fire show nearby. Most complied.)

AND THEN! Then we had the rollicking, also all-over-the-stage band Vaud & the Villains. I remember scoffing at that name when I first saw it. Sounded silly. Boy have I learned not to doubt the Shovel after this festival. Vaud & the Villains, true musical artists. Dancers. Singers. New Orleans storytellers. How to even describe them? Let's see. The LobsterFest program says this: "19-piece 1930s New Orleans orchestra... washboards, horns, dancing girls that sing." That skims the surface of what was presented.

It was rollicking and fun and great music.

My friend who was watching with me noted, "it's been a long time since I've seen such great music at a festival." MUSIC, if anyone had any doubt, is what drove Indie 103.1 and drives the LobsterFest every year. Music that you can tap your foot to, music that stirs your nether regions, music that you leave humming. Music that makes you feel like a better person, music that makes you want to create. All of the joys music brings to one's soul is what Mr. Shovel brought to Indie 103.1 so notably, and brings to every festival and event he curates.

And we still had another DAY of it. How joyous!

Another return act from last year's festival, Devon Eisenbarger kicked off Sunday's event. Followed by Dante Vs. Zombies, "perhaps the most original band of the weekend." REALLY? Wow. Cause we've sure seen some "original" stuff. Local band The Little Ones rocked the house next. Lady Dottie and the Diamonds took no prisoners with her "boogie-woogie blues." Wow, amazing. And then, that one-hit-wonder band that everyone was clamouring in to see. I left before they started. I had Emmys to watch.

But I am left, at the end of this LobsterFest, as at the end of last year's, stunned and amazed at the bands I have watched over the days. Terribly sad that for some reason the merch table didn't seem to be active. Bands? Bring your CDs, even if you released them a year or more ago. I'm sure you would've had sales!

Joyous, reliving the memories of the bands I'd seen; old favorites, new ones created.

But mostly, I want to give a deep respectful bow to our own Mr. Shovel. For those who underestimate what it is exactly you do, and think that just anyone can recreate it, they are sadly mistaken, and LobsterFest is proof of that. This man knows music. He knows how to seamlessly package a show that is crowd-pleasing and horizon-broadening. His skill will please both the yokels with lobsters on their heads, and the uppity music snobs who aren't phased by anything. And that is no small feat.

A deep bow to you, Mr. Shovel. Thank you sincerely for this LobsterFest.

Now if we could only get these LA folks to DANCE...

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Join the Party on Twitter

I've written some columns about Twitter, but I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and wanted to approach it from a different angle. Most people, if they're going to get on Twitter, probably already are; and if they aren't, they still hate it and people who talk about it just as much.

This isn't for those people. It's for the ones who have joined Twitter but are still staring at a blank screen, not knowing how this "Twitter thing" works. Not getting what all the big deal is about, not sure where or how to jump in. And sure, the new Twitter sends you helpful little "Who to Follow" prompts, but how do you know who to follow? How many are too much? Or too little? And really, most of all, what is the damn point of all this?

I've been thinking a lot about all this, and a new idea hit me. It's a party. (You can cringe if you want to.)

The single most important thing, now that you've finally broken down and signed up to this dreadful thing (as if anyone needs another social media site, harumph!), is who you know. Or, more concisely: Who You Follow. (The second most important thing is Who Follows You, but you can't control that.)

So, as I've documented elsewhere, when I first joined Twitter, I was adding people like mad (rather like I did on MySpace and Facebook). If I had it all to do over again, I wouldn't do it that way.

Here's what you need to know: Twitter is about interaction. Passive watchers might as well not even join. Because everyone, even the shyest wallflower, has something to say about something.

Keeping those things in mind, try this strategy on for size.

1. DON'T, I REPEAT, DON'T go mad adding celebrities. In fact, if you're a Twitter newbie, I would suggest that you refrain from adding ANY celebrities or really famous people until you've been on Twitter at least six months and have regular people you know and chat with. Why? By and large, those with millions of followers won't be chatting back with you. Actually, those with millions probably won't even be reading you. And, if you are only going to add ten people, make those ten count. NO CELEBRITIES. Make each of those ten people who will interact with you, will Follow Friday you (the only celebrities that I've seen Follow Fridaying anyone are other celebrities), will thank you for your comments and RTs. Generally someone who values your commentary, and treats you with respect. Do I have to tell you that that ISN'T a celebrity? Nope. Not even Oprah. Seriously.

Really think about what you want to get out of Twitter. Here's what you can get: knowledge, news, sports fans who share your passions, fans of any subject who share your passions, and if you're really lucky, and choose well, people who can really help you make it through your day.

So, I'd like you to think of this as a great party that you're designing. You are the host/hostess, and you get to pick the guest list. (Again, refrain from inviting celebrities, because they will dimish YOUR sparkle.) Who else would you want attending?

When your mind comes up blank, try this instead. Go to someone whom you think would make a great party guest that you know is on Twitter. Start by examining their follower list. Or their following list. Cull from there. Keep in mind that the BEST person to add to your Twitter list is someone who's following/follower totals are roughly equal. Say, 1500 following to 1750 followers. That would be ideal. It shows someone who's engaged, who actively participates in their Twitter stream, in essence, someone who'd make a great party guest, and not monopolize the conversation.

Conversely, if someone is following NO ONE, avoid them like the plague, no matter who they are. They clearly don't get it.

2. Pick interesting people. I highly suggest that before you add someone, click on their profile first. Check out some of their comments. Look at a full page's worth. If ANY of the comments annoy you, or make you roll your eyes, go to the next person. Life's too short. Also, if what you are looking at is either: all RTs, no original commentary; or all links, move on. You want someone, ideally, who mixes it up. Who RTs people, but also comments. Who posts interesting links, but also engages with you. (I also do this in reverse. If I see someone's comments in my feed now that annoy me, I'll go back to their profile before I unfollow them, just to be sure. They may just be having a bad day.)

3. Find subjects that interest you. You want people who stimulate your mind. Find people who share your interests. For example, I like music, and subscribe to the Blip.fm service, which posts songs I'm listening to to my Twitter feed. Some people really hate that. Other music lovers have RTed the songs I've picked. People who like the same music I do tend to stick around. Whatever it is you are interested in, there are people who like that same thing and talk about it. Try searching for that subject, and adding people that you find that are interesting.

4. Find people who inspire you. There are plenty of them on Twitter, I assure you. Some people like those who post inspirational sayings. Others get bored silly by such stuff. Whatever your own spiritual touchstone is, make sure you add some people who reflect that. Who make your heart swoon at their comments. You should have a good chunk of these kind of people in your Twitter stream.

5. Find worldwide folks. I like Twitter for its coverage of news. But to find this, I didn't start adding TV or radio news folks (although you could do that, too). I made sure I had people on my Twitter stream from different countries, some speaking different languages. I don't want to just know what's going on in America (though maybe you do). But having a diverse spectrum across the world will also ensure that whatever time you are on Twitter, there is going to be something coming across your screen. I assure you. My Facebook often dies, once the people in my geographic area go to sleep. This is never true of Twitter. It's 24/7.

6. Job searching? Add headhunters. I have heard about more jobs on Twitter than any other social media service, which is enough reason to sign up for it, if you're not already on it, IMHO. But to do that, I had to add people in various fields that I work in who might be responsible for adding jobs. If you're an actor, there are plenty of casting agents on it. There are all kinds of headhunters, and job services as well. Search for them. Add them.

7. Drop in some romantic sparkle. What would a good party be without some sexy members of whatever sex you're attracted to? Make sure that you add some sexiness, to whatever level you feel comfortable with. I personally have three Twitter accounts, to varying levels of sexiness. The last thing I want when I'm in a business situation is to have someone sending over pics of their naked body at me. So I don't have that at all on my business Twitter. But on my personal one? heh That a whole other story.

8. Minimize or avoid the companies that advertise at you. Yes, I know, many companies out there will cringe at that one. They see Twitter as the next new gold rush area, and are just looking for a way in. My personal rule with all that is that anyone that markets at me is Unfollowed. Period. I don't have anyone (of the 2000 people I'm following) that is a company or a marketer. My life is blissful. Plus, Twitter isn't FOR that. It's for people to talk to each other. To interact, as I said earlier. Advertising/marketing people still haven't figured that out.

Again, think of it like a party. If you were at a great party, deep in the middle of a fascinating conversation, would you want someone spewing about their latest product at you? No. It would spoil the vibe, wouldn't it? Twitter should be, and is, like that, too.

9. DO talk about politics and religion. Everywhere else, these items are avoided like the plague. But on Twitter, I have found the most educated, enlightened, actively seeking minds I've found anywhere. I feel blessed to have them in my Twitter stream. Mind you, I only have the folks who espouse the same things I believe in. One woman started getting on my case about my sexuality, espousing her "Christian" values at me, and I can't tell you how quickly I blocked her. The block button is bliss. Use it often.

The other great advantage about this is that you'll hear when things happen. I heard about the strife in various Mideast countries on Twitter WAY before mainstream media even covered it. So maybe it's a party with giant screens all around the room with current news flashes suddenly on the Jumbotron. If there's an earthquake, you'll hear about it on Twitter (as everyone on the East Coast now knows).

10. Don't be bored. If, once you've added your successful party guest roster, you find you are still bored with people's comments, add more people. Maybe, at this point, add a celeb or two (judiciously). For me, there isn't a day that I'm on Twitter that I don't get a new piece of information, a new way to look at things, and some uplifting inspiration from my Twitter stream. That's how yours should be, too.

Have at least 100 people that you are following. A good conversation is the sign of a really good party.

Add me: @michebella on Twitter.

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Lounging with the High-Tech Hoboes

Like most people, living through this recession has been a challenge. Finding yourself in places and circumstances you never expected because the cash flow you had counted on suddenly stops (for whatever reason).

For me, my life on the streets (or as close as I want to get to it) began a few months ago (and has, oh so thankfully ended--at least for now, anyway. Who knows what tomorrow holds?).

I'm a tech baby. My hands have been attached to a keyboard for decades now. The cell phone/smart phone got added somewhere in there, and eyes are often glued to some cable program or another. That's how I lived. I couldn't imagine life without these creature comforts.

Living without them helped me to realize just how much I need them, and why.

So walk with me, for a minute, won't you? Down into my path of hell?

Mind you, I know there are many who have it worse, much worse. People who, for whatever reason (and yes, their numbers do seem to be increasing of late) find it completely ok to sleep right there on the street. In church doorways, or near highway overpasses. Whereever there is a quiet place to lie their head.

It's a strange sight, seeing someone in a doorway, with a cardboard box covering their heads. Guess it's to keep the morning light out. Still not sure about that one.

But these guys (not too many homeless women, I've noted), at least not lying in doorways, anyway... these guys people have been aware of for decades, since a few recessions ago, at least.

What I've noticed on my new journey into poverty is the step up from that, the high-tech hobo.

So let me take you back a bit in my life (a few months ago). As I said, in my normal life, I am constantly online. I write, I blog, I have a podcast, I'm a regular (as in daily) Twitter poster. Online is pretty much where I live. So, to me, to be suddenly without online access was as close as I want to get to being homeless.

But, I still had my laptop and my phone, and I knew there was wifi to be had. I just had to find it. War-driving, isn't it? I was gonna go out and find some.

First, the easy ones. All these coffee shops and cafes offering "Free Wi-Fi." One close to my house. Thought I was home free. Sadly, these places don't much take to someone camping out and using said Free Wifi for hours at a time and only purchasing a coffee. Or at least the one near me didn't. After a few weeks of regular use, they cut me off. Couldn't access the Net anymore at all. Sad.

So, I sought out other avenues. Libraries! They have wifi. Sadly, they also have very minimal hours. In the time that I was doing this, they were closed on both Sunday and Monday! Two whole days with NO access? My God, how inhuman.

Plus, I'm very much a night person. I get most of my best work done in the wee hours of the morning. Libraries were just closing shop when I was getting going (the latest one open until 8 pm). So, they were kind of out, too.

But there are some places that are open 24 hours and have wifi. I won't tell you the places I found, to protect the innocent, but there are places to be had. And this is what you'll see there. If you go to 24-hour places all around the city of Los Angeles, you'll find men with laptops. At first (like around 9 pm), they are indeed, pounding keys, and looking like they are doing something.

By midnight and onward, you will find them asleep at their laptops all over town. I call them the high-tech hoboes. Don't know for sure that they're homeless, but they definitely have no Internet access.

I started frequenting one particular place. I am thankful that it was available to me during my times of difficulty. In theory, I should've been paying for the priviledge. I am grateful to the kind-hearted staff who let these people just be overnight. But I, like the ten or so others who frequented it (and I mean every night), were just surfing the wifi because it was there. Some folks brought snacks. Some folks watched videos or movies. Some actually worked.

One who particularly intrigued me was a preacher. He was always attired in suit and tie, like he had somewhere important to go. Guess in LA, it's all about what you're wearing.

Early in the evening (between 9 pm and midnight), he would busy himself with religious videos. Someone preaching this or that. Round about 2 or 3 am, when he thought no one was listening, the porn videos would come out. Cracked me up.

The funniest thing about the preacher was that he would often chat up other black folks who happened in there. His theory was that the white folks are planning to "round up the blacks and put them in concentration camps." That he was going to hightail it to South Africa before that happened. Meanwhile, of course, he's spending his nights in this same place, watching his videos. Very strange.

I didn't mention to him, hey, this is a largely white establishment here, and they are kind enough to let you sleep in here, you should really be grateful to them, not dissing them like that. But I didn't. Just let him babble on. Once he got to the part about the aliens, I sorta checked out.

Some parts of me wished I had turned to him, white girl that I am, and said, Hey brotha, it's not about white-black anymore, not even white-Hispanics. It's all about RICH and poor. Haven't you noticed that? It's the rich who are oppressing us. And better to stay here and fight than run away, don't you think? But I kept my silence.

Lotsa people who came in there, and there would often be new ones, acted like they owned the place. Guess entitlement runs hard in LA.

It was a very strange thing to me, hanging out in this place.  But I did come to realize that anywhere you go at 3 am in this town, if it has wifi, you're going to find at least one person there with a laptop, and asleep. This is our new reality.

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Why Comedy Podcasts Are Really Booming. And MSM just doesn't get it.

Oh Mainstream Media (MSM) how we love you! And how you get it so very wrong sometimes.

Assumptions people make. Like that everyone works 9-5. In this day and age, it's simply not true. All types of people work all kinds of shifts, in every part of the country.

Read an article in the latest Entertainment Weekly (an article not on their website, btw): MSM: FAIL. about the growth in "comedy podcasts." Specifically featuring one of its biggest success stories: Marc Maron, and his "comedy podcast" known as "WTF!"

Here is the error in EW's logic: that only "comedy afficionados" are seeking out this podcast. That people are flocking to it because comedians are largely the ones being interviewed. Those comedy afficionados number 400,000 strong PER WEEK. Really, EW?

This logic didn't seem just slightly flawed to you?

Here, sad MSM, let's reframe the reality for you a bit.

Podcasts, comedy and otherwise, have been growing steadily since they surged on the scene in about 2005. There are THOUSANDS of them. Many video, most are audio.

Now it is true that some people known for being funny (Marc Maron, Kevin Pollak, Chris Hardwick, among others) have created some great podcasts that are worth listening to. But it's not because of the funniness, or the "comedy" aspect.

Here is the draw of audio podcasts, all of them: they remove the bullshit that MSM throws at us.

WTF! with Marc Maron is mostly phenomenally successful because he has an engaging personality, yes, but because he's having a conversation, no holds barred, with people you don't usually hear from. It's honest, it's open, it's REAL. That's why people are flocking to podcasts. More than any other reason.

EW, thick in its MSM morass and myopia, doesn't get that fundamental thing. They are compelling, in the way that honesty is. Refreshing to hear people talking about things they don't normally talk about: Drew Carey on The Nerdist podcast, chatting about his avatar in Second Life; Paget Brewster on Kevin Pollak's Chat Show about how she and Jon Hamm used to be known as "pilot killers"; and Louis CK on "WTF" somewhat chatting about comedy, but mostly "repairing a friendship."

It's much more listenable than any reality show. It's really truly real.

If you haven't listened, what are you waiting for? Get on that!

Miche's Favorite Podcasts (Comedy and Otherwise)
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1. Diggnation (video)
2. WTF with Marc Maron (audio)
3. Kevin Pollak's Chat Show (video)
4. The Nerdist (audio)
5. Keith & the Girl (audio, some video)
6. Beach Walks with Rox (video)
7. This Week in Tech (audio)
8. This Week in Media (audio)
9. More Hip Than Hippie (audio)
10. Zaldor's World (audio)

(and of course, don't forget to check out MY podcast, MicheBelz Hollywood. Thanks.)

MicheBelz Hollywood podcast

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Link to Chris Hardwick's book

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Sweet Heavens! The Oscars Are Coming!

TWO DAYS BEFORE OSCAR (FEB. 25)
Just going to work. Get off the subway as usual. See the usual Oscar melee. Note the even more increased security than yesterday. Each one scrutinizing each person that goes by. (Good luck with that...) Pass the (on our side) black curtain hanging along this mock wall. Notice when I get to the other side that three cops are there, cause you can see through their side. Cops are talking amongst themselves about each person that goes by, noting who is a troublemaker and who isn't. (This is not even a block from getting off the subway.)

Keep trying to go to work. Take a couple of pictures, because there is some huge press conference going on. It looks like it's some kind of walk through for journalists about what to expect on Sunday. There was one guy I saw on the other side. His laminate read: "International." He looked very lost. Most people's laminates around me read: "Production." And indeed, there they are, laying cable. Putting those plastic things securely over the cable so no one trips over the cable.

This guy's putting pink, yes, pink tape at four spots along the cable line. Interesting. I would've asked him what it was for, but he looked very busy. That and two other guys were over his shoulder, observing and talking to him.

I continue, acting like I know what I'm doing (always the way to get through such situations, FYI). I make it as far as the dreaded alley (the one I walk through every single day to get to work, usually no one is there). Today in addition to their regular command post, and the massive crane trucks nearby to disturb the view, today there is a stop at the end of the way. I just knew someone would be sitting there, checking badges.

This one is a stickler, too. "I work over there." "Where?" I tell her. "What place?" I repeat it again. I even tell her the address, which I've now memorized since Monday's interrogation. She is nonplussed. She gets on her walkie. (I'm not making this up.) I tell her, "No really, the security down there knows me." I'm looking frantically for my security guy. There is a phlanx of guys in yellow coats, but I don't see Cary. She walkies. "Um, got a girl here, says she works down there."

Finally I see a security guy I know come out of the madness. I wave. Smile. He tells her it's ok, and I'm able to walk down the alley.

WHEW.

When I get to work finally and grab my morning coffee, I look out the window and see WHY they are being so crazy with the security. Picture one of those space movies where your hero is on a hill and sees nothing but blackness. Then he crests the hill, and suddenly, a whole village of activity he had no idea was there. It was like that.

All week the parking lot next to Kimmel had been mostly empty. Some activity, which I photographed. Nothing much. Holy crap. You should see it now. (I have pictures, I'll post later.) The entire nearly block-long parking lot is FILLED with TV trucks. With satellite hookups. Must be a dozen, at least. Big old generators to power them. And lots of cable going into the Kimmel building, no doubt for extra power. Unbelievable, truly.

They have their own lunch truck out there. Even a couple of star trailers. (For news anchors? Wow. Who knew?)

The Oscars, baby. Are on!

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Oscars As We Know It Takes Shape

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FOUR DAYS BEFORE OSCAR (FEB. 24)
The red carpet is now in place.

One might wonder, why on Earth do they need to have the red carpet down four days before the event? With rains scheduled?

Here's why. The other biggest addition behind the scenes, visible throughout the alley command center and all around: satellite linkups. News trucks from all over are starting to wander in, for that "Here we are as they prepare the Oscars" story on the red carpet. I swear I saw Chris Harrison out there this morning. Everyone is testing their mics and taking position. Cameras are lining up shots and testing their electricity.

The (what has to be the) credentials booth appears to be made of really strong tenting material, maybe even leather. It has DOORS. Doors with hinges on it. It's pretty much the first thing you see when your limo arrives at the corner of Hollywood and Highland.

What also seems to be happening (subtley) is that the perimeter of their control is pushing further and further out as the days go on. Today (Thursday), you simply cannot go through the alley without a credential and/or being asked for one. There are security lookouts every ten feet. No chance anyone is going to wander somewhere without someone noticing. Although it does bring up the question: what about 3 in the morning? Is someone still out here, guarding things? I suspect yes.

The massive prone Oscars from yesterday have been removed from the command tent, and no doubt put in place. The four smaller statues are also gone. Their place has been filled by news trucks, at this point, mostly from ABC and/or Channel 7. One has to think that ABC owning so much of this block already has to help allow them to do all this. The other merchants are paid handsomely for the inconvenience.

One parking lot, for example, is normally home to a car rental business. The rental cars are lined up throughout the parking lot, and people rent them and drive away. ALL of that is now taken up by the command tents. This person's business is GONE during Oscar week.

So far, you can still get to restaurants in Hollywood & Highland, but man, is it difficult. The elevator is what I normally take. It was subsumed by people laying red carpet, and people taking pictures of the guy laying the red carpet. By tomorrow, it's going to be impossible. The cupcake shop just as you walk in is completely inaccessible too. They must be paid off for this, too.

As you walk on Hollywood Blvd., nearly half of the people you see have laminates with various levels of access on them. Normally, it's 80% tourists, taking pictures. Tourists do not seem as abundant today.

There are also traffic guards, to direct traffic away away away from the Kodak. Don't even THINK of parking on adjoining streets. You will not be able to move until Monday. Actually, if you are driving, at this point, you would be well advised to stay far away from Hollywood and Highland until Monday. It's not going to be pretty for you.

For the rest of us, though, it's beautiful. Look at that big Oscar statue, towering above everything! And the tents to keep everything dry. A walkway for press that doesn't normally even exist is high above Hollywood Blvd. Stunning.

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More Lockdown at the Kodak

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SIX DAYS BEFORE OSCAR (FEB. 22)
The biggest change is tents. Tents everywhere.

Also, the entire block of Hollywood Blvd. (from Highland to Orange) is now shut down. Traffic rerouted. Big trucks fill the streets with names like party favors on them. Unclear what they are unloading, but they keep coming all day.

Security at every station. Trying to get to work (through the alley) involves a burly security guy asking me for my laminate. Sorry, I just work here. What's the address? It's a temp job. You expect me to remember the address that I've never needed before (since the first day six months ago)? Luckily, another security guard in the alley who knows me vouches for me, and I'm allowed to pass. I give a silent thanks for the fact that I'm constantly friendly to the various security guards I pass.

There is a big sign on the corner of Hollywood & Highland, which loudly proclaims: "OSCAR!" right next to a huge picture of a gold Oscar. And by huge, I mean multiple stories tall. Both of these images will feature prominently in tracking shots on every station. You will see them constantly, trust me.

In an upcoming post, I'm going to try to include some of the pics I've been taking on the scene. Trust me, it's not easy. I just bury myself in gaggles of Japanese tourists. (They always have cameras.)

FIVE DAYS BEFORE OSCAR (FEB. 23)
Getting to work is even more of a nightmare.  One of the two alleys back is completely closed off. He does let me get through the other one. I see WHY this one is closed off, later, when I get to work.

Looking through our upstairs windows (pictures forthcoming), I see giant Oscars laying in the middle of this parking lot (probably being burnished with extra gold paint). Whereever they have giant Oscars along the red carpet, they are going to originally come from this staging area.

Another notable fixture of today is all the cameras and microphones being tested at various spots along the red carpet route. There are always cameras on Hollywood Blvd, but these are the expensive high-tech kind. TV cameras.

I'm going to try to get up to my favorite restaurant on the balcony to see how much of that is closed down, and what pictures I can get for lunch today. Back later.

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Lockdown at the Kodak

I never really thought about it, frankly. The level of security it would take to keep the Kodak Theatre safe for the Oscars. But since I work close, I thought I'd blog about the transformation as it goes along.

TEN DAYS BEFORE OSCARCAST (FEB. 17)
*Bleachers have been erected. Signs are posted on them: "No public access without permission." Seriously? They shut down ALL of the businesses around here? Well, that was my first thought. Upon further examination, it seems that they have guards at each entry point to block access, but with much maneuvering, you can get around.

*Jimmy Kimmel Live has offices across the street from the Oscarcast/Kodak. Under normal circumstances, he uses the parking lot directly behind his offices to put on lavish concert spectacles for his shows. The stage set there is HUGE, nearly two floors high. Spotlights at every angle on six different scaffolds. Public access, of course, is blocked on all sides. Getting off work usually involves fighting through the crowds who are standing in line in the alley, waiting to see the show.

On this day, the entire beautiful massive stage set is being dismantled. In the six months that I've worked in the area, I've only seen it get more and more elaborate and added to. Crews are out there, tearing each piece meticulously down.

NINE DAYS BEFORE OSCARCAST (FEB. 18)
*The parking lot where the massive stage had stood is now, actually, a parking lot. With cars. Nothing but cars and empty spaces as far as the eye can see. Weird.

*The parking lot NEXT to this one, that Kimmel had been using for their parking lot, has now become command central. It looks like a movie set. Trailers ring the periphery. Guards at every level. Big signs, saying, basically: Don't even THINK about trying to come through here. Big signs in the alley saying: if you think about parking here, even for a minute, you will be towed. (Where were they a few days ago? Big-ass trucks always block this alley.)

*The normal parade of Elvises, fake cops, Mary Poppins, Spiderman, Darth Vader and such that throng Hollywood Blvd. are gone, daddy, gone. Not a one in sight, which is quite jarring, actually. The only thing left is the musicians trying to hawk their CDs for $5.

*Getting into Hollywood & Highland for a sandwich is actually still possible. But right in the middle... damn my memory... it seemed like there was a fountain or a stone structure of some kind right in the middle. Huge. People used to sit on it. Whatever the hell it was, it's completely GONE now. A big white spot on the floor where it used to be. So the whole entryway is open. Big open space. Crazy. And there are three times the amount of cops there used to be. NINE DAYS BEFORE THE OSCARS.

*Other people I know who live in the area have complained about parking problems, even those living blocks away. Parking's always bad around here, but now, they are just absconding with whatever spaces they feel they need. I'm happy, cause I have all that beat. I take the subway.

Fliers on subway: "Hollywood & Highland Stop will be CLOSED the day of the Oscars." Metro Red Line trains will bypass the station. Street closures around the area prompt four bus line changes. Wow.

Can't wait to see how this evolves over the next week. I'll keep you posted.

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The Golden Globes and the Glory of Ryan Seacrest

It's hard out there for a red-carpet interviewer.

Frankly, most people suck at this job. The newbies, still green behind the ears (I'm looking at you, Ben Lyons) tend to wax synchophantic and get all swoony over the celebs. (Although with the way that E!'s Giuliana Ransic was creaming her jeans over Brad and Angie waving at her, you'd be hard-pressed to remember she's been around awhile.)

Most tend to fall into the vapid vat of "ooh, celebrities, aren't they pretty?" with an occasional twinge of "how does this help my career?" thrown in (Ross Matthews). Which is where the whole "What are you wearing?" debacle originated. When in doubt, ask about their dress.

We can thank (or hate forever) Joan Rivers for that. Rivers, easily the worst red-carpet interviewer in history, who in addition to being vengeful and spiteful and mean, had the annoying habit of forgetting who these damn people were, what they'd been in, what relevance they had to anything, and being long schooled in the comedy of "talk about what you know" started asking about the dresses.

Now, that's all anyone gloms on to. Props in this awards season so far go to Melissa Leo. "What are you wearing?" "My tux," she said non-plussed. I loved her for that.

No, it's a very difficult balance a red-carpet interviewer must walk. If you don't care, you're Joan Rivers. If you care too much, you're Star Jones, and asking everyone to come on The View or ogle her wedding plans.

Truthfully, the red carpet has not been a safe place to walk since Steve Kmetko and Jules Asner held court. Now, THEY knew how to ask the right questions. They knew how to keep the celebritydom in check. Since they've been gone, we've had a vast wasteland of interviewers, most caught up in dress mania, few giving anything of substance at all.

Sam Rubin must be commended as a good interim host. He asks good questions, but even he tends to the fake and air-kissy.

What a surprise, a revelation, even, it was this weekend to see the "my God, this man is everywhere!" host, Ryan Seacrest doing a bang-up job on the red carpet for the Globes. After awhile, I had the unusual sensation of thinking, I really want to hear what Ryan asks this one. Never a comment out of place, never a synchophantic note. All was in order.

He not only appropriately juggled each celebrity (apologizing to Natalie Portman for making a pregnant woman walk up some stairs), he made the most of every moment: bringing Jimmy Fallon and Jason Segal up to sing a song. He knew people's credits (whether because he actually knew, or because he had a great producer whispering in his ear, I don't care—he was on it). It felt real.

I realized when watching him that Ryan Seacrest on the red carpet is the new breed of celebrity interviewer. He made them feel comfortable, being asked inane questions. He even got interesting answers out of them. Because of that, he made us feel comfortable watching, instead of wanting to throw something at the TV. I was grateful to him for that.

Whatever the tenuous balance is: between curiosity about things that are none of our business, and learning more about upcoming projects, and asking how someone is feeling at that moment, Seacrest was really the best in a very long time. In fact, during awards shows, I am normally a maniac with the remote, madly switching back and forth between E! and TVGuide and NBC and whoever else is covering it, because none of them are doing it very well.

Seacrest changed all that. The social-media-friendly celeb interviewer really is on to something here with the tenor and caliber of his interviewing, and I'm truly looking forward to his SAG and Oscar coverage.

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On Obsolescence

The world changed for me around this moment. It was at a tech conference, probably Seybold, probably Boston, around 1993 or '94. The creator of Netscape had just showed us our first spinning globe, and had tried to explain the power in front of us, this new thing called the Internet.


There was talk, even then, about content creation. Rather than take in the majesty of being able to chat with someone easily on the other side of the world that Marc Andreessen was so enamoured of, everyone, even then, was trying to figure out how to make money on this thing.


One advertising schmuck steps up to the mic during question time and asks simply: "Why would anyone want to create their own content?"


That was the moment for me. The moment that held in the question all the ignorance and arrogance of old media that caused it to completely fall in the time from then to now. I could tell in hearing the question that it was the wrong question to be asking. I could also tell that old media and advertising types thought the question perfectly reasonable. In that moment, I couldn't tell why the question sat so oddly with me.


Let's look deeper.


At that moment in time, old media (MSM) had been spoonfeeding us what they considered important: books, TV shows, movies, records, newspaper stories, advertising campaigns. We, the big monoliths, know better than you. We will only give you what we see fit, and you will like it. Yeah, I can't imagine why anyone would want to change THAT status quo.


Their fault wasn't that they didn't see the importance of the Internet at that moment, they certainly did. They just never conceived (and truthfully many big companies STILL don't) that this new way of doing things made them irrelevant.


So when you ask yourself what must it have been like, when that buggy maker first heard about this newfangled "automobile" thing, I can tell you. The reaction, very likely, was the same. It doesn't matter. We're still going to be around. Everyone's always going to need buggies. Um, right?


That moment was nearly 20 years ago now. Here's what's changed, in case you missed it. Newspapers have died, most people get their news from Twitter and The Daily Show. Terrestrial radio has been replaced by Internet radio, Pandora and listening to downloaded music. People watch more TV on their computer or their DVR than what's actually broadcast in real time. Magazines, god love 'em, are still publishing, nearly all of them at a loss. Books have been replaced by ebooks and self-publishing. More people watch movies in the comfort of their home than in a multiplex.


And to that ad guy's next question: How are we gonna make money on this thing? Streams of Internet revenue now surpass every other medium. Last year, in the thick of the Recession, every other media stream lost money. Internet revenue was up.


This, then, is what's really going on. Millions of people lost their jobs in recent years. Those jobs aren't coming back. The world has changed completely.


Many of us, who trained in those industries, look around and see our skills as totally worthless. That's what's scary. Who needs a buggymaker anymore? Or a blacksmith? Typesetters? Printers? Worthless.


All of this was set off for me when I installed the new Mac OS, which comes with the new "App Store." There, among the shiny new apps, was one called "The Print Shop." My life flashed before my eyes. All those hours of creating business cards and letterheads and things that other people didn't want to bother with: there it is in one little app, for $50. Postcards, labels, banners, calendars, CD cases—any one of which we would've charged at least $50 to create for ya. There they were. Just pick your template, and boom!


So the answer, Mr. Advertising Guy, to your world-changing question: Why would anyone want to create their own content? BECAUSE THEY CAN.


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Barney is So Self-Indulgent

For the first half hour of "Barney's Version," I wanted to walk out. I found it extremely unfunny, irritating, obnoxious and a waste of my time. Part of the problem for this is that the descriptions of this movie fall in the nebulous category, where publicists don't know what the heck to write about it. "Barney's cranky, and this is his life," is about as far as they'd get.

And indeed, there's Paul Giamatti, irrascible, puffing cigars and drinking booze from the first frame. Making crank calls to his ex-wife at 3 am. Fun stuff. Why the HELL do I want to get involved in this schmuck's life, one asks?

Here's why. To me, it's the story of TRUE LOVE. How true love hits someone and doesn't let go. And how, even when you have true love, you might just mess it up. That's what makes it worth seeing.

Barney's first marriage happens when his bride becomes pregnant. He does the honorable thing, and marries her. Then finds out it wasn't even his kid. That one doesn't end so well.

His dad (Dustin Hoffman) sets him up with his next lovely lady. And Minnie Driver is indeed lovely. And rich. What's not to like? Well, the incessant talking, perhaps...

So, there he is, at his second wedding, surrounded by many of her relatives, everyone getting smashingly drunk. Barney most of all, pounding back the shots. When suddenly through his drunken stupor, he looks across the room and sees her. Not his freshly-minted wife. His true love. And it hits him like an oncoming train.

He ventures closer and starts talking to her. She sees he is drunk. But they do hit it off. He abruptly leaves his own wedding to chase her to the train heading back to New York. And so it begins.

So there was the reason that made me sit in my seat for the rest of the movie, and be rewarded. How can this schlub of a man find true love with such a beautiful woman? But there it is, clear as day.

The film is based on the writings of Mordecai Richler. The film is dedicated to him.

It is packed with a cast of many stunning acting talents. Scott Speedman, for example, looks like sunshine made real as the charming playboy in Italy.

But the revelation, not surprisingly, since she's been the revelation of several movies of late (Made in Dagenham notably this season, and An Education last) is Rosamund Pike. She is gorgeous, refined, wonderful as a counterpoint to Barney.

It's sad and kind of tragic that Barney chose to live his life the way he wanted to: drinking, smoking big cigars and watching hockey games with the boys at the local bar. The love of his life chose to grow and evolve. But it's very interesting to see how all these pieces fall into place.

So trust me. The beginning may be annoying, but all in all, Barney's Version is a good ride through someone's life. I really do wanna see "Miriam's Version" next, though.

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On Not Getting It versus Insight

Two recent examples of this phenomenon crossed my view stream recently, and I wanted to comment upon them.

The phenomenon, visible all around you (especially if you look at Republicans and Democrats these days) is that of people who stubbornly, blindly, furiously, simply DON'T GET IT. You tell them or give them the information, and they do not or cannot see it. They persist in their stubbornness in seeing only their way, the right way. They blather on about their way, having totally and completely missed the actual point.

BLACK SWAN SPOILER BELOW

The two glaring examples of this that crossed my desk have to do with some (male) reviewers watching my favorite film of the year, "Black Swan," and a female reporter interviewing John Lennon and Yoko Ono.

Let's examine "Black Swan" first. I acknowledge that all art is subjective. People see what they want to see, based on their own set of experiences and life paths. The problem in the translation of "Black Swan," IMHO, has to do with the maleness versus the femaleness.

My perception of "Black Swan" is very much encased in the female mindset. I see it as a dream. Nina dreams of being the best ballerina ever. She shares this with her mother (who perhaps at one time had similar dreams). She sees the path to this dream resting in her ability to conquer perfection. So she studies technique, and becomes the best technical ballerina she can be.

But her male director tells her, NO! To really conquer the "Black Swan"/dark side of your personality/shadow side, you have to release the perfection. You have to be willing to risk, to feel, to experience life, in all its imperfection.

I think everyone is pretty much down with the story through these parts (male and female). But increasingly toward the end, the movie takes on flights of fancy/dream sequences/explorations of the creative mind. This is where many male reviewers seem to fall off. They resort to trying to take this movie literally.

Oh my God, she's turning into a swan. Oh my God, she kills herself at the end! Well, yes and no.

The way I saw it, from the middle of the movie on, she is still a little girl with dreams, trying to experience her own dark side. She is still trying to attain the perfection that she started out trying to attain. And if the director tells her she must be more sexual, she endeavors to do that.

Is it really a "lesbian sex scene" with Mila Kunis as one male reviewer crassly puts it? Or is it actually the bubbling of her subconscious? Her femaleness laid bare in trying to conquer her own sexuality? Did the experience with Kunis really happen? The director leaves you to wondering. THAT is the beauty of it.

Was she, in the end, enticed by Kunis? Enraptured by her? Wanting to sleep with her? Or was Kunis just the free spirit part of herself that she was trying to catch? Was she then, in essence, sleeping with herself, as the director had instructed her to do? Capturing through fantasy what she perhaps couldn't really capture?

And the end of the movie, that so horrified several male critics, who again WRONGLY take it literally, isn't really her dying. At least, that's not how I see it. It was the ballerina on the music box falling off. It was the end of "Swan Lake," as it's supposed to be. It was the grand spectacle of "la petit mort" writ large. Orgasm, the finale, "it was perfect." The end.

And it had to end in a big bloody spectacle, because life is imperfect, and bloody and messy. Life and love and passion and creativity. That's what I saw there.

So what that tells me is that the "Black Swan" haters need to have more orgasms and connect to their passions.

In the other subject, I confess, when I was younger, I was swayed by the tenor of the times, and my father. John Lennon and Yoko Ono were just wacky and crazy with this "Bed In" thing and preaching about peace. Nuts. Off their rockers.

I saw this in the frustrated questioning of the (I think BBC) reporter. She seemed to be perceiving Lennon and Ono as either complete nutcases, or fantasists wasting her time. She kept arguing about the seriousness of people dying in various wars, and they kept talking about how if people really thought about peace, peace could happen.

Yoko made quite an eloquent argument about "how can you shoot someone when you're smiling?" She was actually arguing quite complex spiritual principles. If you embody love, you cannot simultaneously embody hate. Hate is what causes killing. Hatred and fear. So if you choose love, if you choose peace, consciously, we would have no more war.

I understand that now. I sure didn't understand that then. Neither did the frustrated BBC reporter, who actually got up and stormed off at this point. She reacted as though Yoko were completely wasting her time, when in fact, they were both just trying to get her to understand.

And what will it take, as we have an insane stonewalling Congress on the horizon, for people to put down their arms and their stubbornness and finally listen and hear?

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Love and Other Drugs Goes Cold Turkey

Amid the crush of holiday releases and Oscar hopefuls, there are many many great pictures out right now. "Love and Other Drugs" is not one of them. The more I think about it, the more it bugs me.

Jake Gyllenhaal plays a brash handsome manipulator who beds women, uses them, spits them out (the usual). Anne Hathaway plays someone who's seen it all. She's been on the receiving end of such men, and as such, she's hardened, crass, cynical, guarded.

Both of these characters, for reasons described, are annoying and not fun to watch. He's thinking of ways to use people (easier, better, faster). She's thinking of witty comebacks to cut them down to size. Did I mention that this is not fun? This, despite the fact that both of them get naked a lot. Really. It's boring.

Who can he bed to sell his products? How can she avoid commitment? Wackiness ensues. No, not really. Boredom ensues.

SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER

The supposed serious part of this is the increase in pharmacological assistance through depression drugs like Zoloft and Prozac, the salesmen who hawk them, and it all comes complete with a splashy song and dance number. And when Gyllenhaal's company (Pfizer) comes out with Viagara... well, you can imagine what that does to Lothario's drug sales.

The wrench in all this is that Hathaway has Parkinson's disease (note shaky hand a couple of times). This is why she knows all the drug salesmen. And comes the speech: "You're not gonna love me cause I have a disease!" (*pouts* *stomps feet*) She's way too self-deprecating in this movie. Mean to herself and others.

He has received a horror story of the progression of the disease from someone at a conference, so suddenly it's "Nope, I'm shallow. I don't love you. Bye."

Blech. At this point, who cares? She's shrill, pouty and annoying. He's still glib, uses sex to get his way. Who cares?

The fact that anyone anywhere mentions this dreadful movie in the context of Oscars is sad. No one in this movie (though I do love director Edward Zwick and actor Oliver Platt, but seriously...) deserves anything that has the word Oscar attached to it.

Really hated it. Don't waste your time. Many other great movies out there instead.

Creative fever dream Swans into Best Picture

Reviewers who write about movies for a living, who have to slog through every paint-by-numbers adaptation, seem to have difficulty with two things: spirituality in movies, and the creative process in movies. Mind you, there aren't that many movies about either of those two things because they are also ephemeral streaks of lightning to capture in the film bottle.

What I had read about "Black Swan" prior to seeing it fluctuated on the spectrum from horror flick to Grand Guignol theatre to thriller to scary movie. In short, I really didn't know what to expect. Perhaps it will be one or some of those things to you, too.

How I perceived "Black Swan" was more like a dream. The dream, the central focus for this ballerina, is to be perfect. And she studies and she plies and she does everything she thinks she's supposed to do.

But when the company leader decides to do "Swan Lake," he presents her with this challenge: "You'd be great as the White Swan." But, essentially, she doesn't have enough of a dark side to do the Black Swan justice. (This lead character in the ballet performs both sides of a complex persona.)

"Black Swan," then, is about this striving-for-perfection ballerina figuring out what it takes to reach her own "dark side." What she discovers is that passion and the thrill of life often lie in its imperfections. As we travel with her on her journey, we also discover what is at the heart of the creative process, how far someone can push themselves for their art.

It is a stunning bravura performance. Prior to seeing the film, I posited on my podcast that Natalie Portman was going to take every award in sight this Oscar season. I think so even moreso after seeing the film. Like Christoph Waltz and Mo'Nique last year, every other Best Actress contender this year can just sit down. It's Natalie Portman's year. Her work in this movie is stunning. In fact, I can't remember the last time an actress was so stunning and superb and affecting. Brilliant work.

Her supporting cast is also affecting and may glean some supporting nominations: Vincent Cassel as the ballet company director, Barbara Hershey as her mom, Mila Kunis as a fellow dancer. Winona Ryder takes an especially inspired turn, making a droll commentary on her own life, that elicited laughs in our industry screening.

People have also made reference to an "All About Eve" subtext. That is only there in as much as fearing other people taking roles you covet is part of the creative process. It's really and truly not about that.

In fact, I think where reviewers get into trouble with this role, and even the screening I saw this at, the questioner had the same problem--is dissecting it too much. Think of it as a dream. Roll around with the images, go with the flights of fancy. True creativity isn't that far from the dream state, and true creativity borders on that part of the brain near psychosis too. But don't let that analysis hinder you.

As Nina had to learn, with sex, with dreaming, with life, sometimes you just have to let it flow over you and become part of you. So, too, with "Black Swan."

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Made in Dagenham: Let's hear it for the women!

(Note: The director, Nigel Cole, informed us that it's pronounced roughly equivalent to "diggin him.")

Sometimes, with all the demonizing hate-filled Republican propaganda that fills our airwaves, sometimes one wonders why it is again that unions are relevant. They have been portrayed as terrible things that are ruining our lives. (Just don't look at the big corporations that are pulling the strings to make those statements...)

How far have we gotten from the struggles for the 40-hour week? Or the hard-fought-for half hour lunches and ten-minute breaks, legal by law, yet in this new corporate world where everyone is doing five people's jobs, hardly still maintained. Does anyone even remember that it was the unions that fought for these things? For these rights for us working stiffs?

Or has this bad word "socialism" (since that other trumped-up bad word, "communism" doesn't really work anymore, appearing hopelessly dated) really colored everything for so many? So many who voted their corporate keepers back into power, though they decried the influence of the big bad banks? Just makes ya sick, sometimes.

Well, here's an antidote to the corporate-cash big money Tea Party election we just stomached. Here's a pleasant reminder of exactly what unions can do, and why we need them so, in these crazy times. "Made in Dagenham" takes place in England, in the mid-60s. It's a true story.

Sallie Hawkins, a sure Oscar contender, is one of the strike leaders. Miranda Richardson has a noble turn herself. (Both were in attendance at the AFI screening.) This film is easily one of my favorites of the year.

Women, working at a Ford plant as machinists, start out the movie wanting to be the same pay grade as men, to be classed as "skilled," rather than "unskilled." Simple enough. Fair enough.

They encounter many obstacles along the way, not the least of which is that they aren't taken seriously because they are "just women," after all. We won't even talk about the other shop violations which they don't even talk about in the movie: the water pouring down on the workplace, the fact that many women work in their bras because it's too hot in the shop (those rights are things American workers fought for, and are still enforced).

But the big battle for the women ultimately becomes: "Equal pay for equal work." That is what they fight for. Don't wanna spoil the movie. I'll just say that it had a positive ending in Britain, and many other countries because of the women of Dagenham.

It made me uncomfortably squeamish, though, to realize that here in America in 2010, women still make only 74% of what men make for the same job. Oh yeah. That's why we need those "socialist" unions. I remember now.

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The King's Speech and Blue Valentine

The company I work for is responsible for promoting The King's Speech, The Company Men, Nowhere Boy and Blue Valentine, so although I'm sure they'll be Oscar contenders, I feel that reviewing them would be a conflict of interest. Sorry, guys.

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Endurance Cinema: Conviction, The Way Back and 127 Hours

One of my pet theories is that leading Oscar contenders reflect a current mode of our times. Last year's "Up In the Air," for instance, hit hard on the layoffs that touched so many. This year's theme, it seems, is enduring, despite overwhelming odds against you.

In the wonderful "Conviction," Hillary Swank's character battles for years to free her innocent brother from prison. You see her battle setback after setback. And still she hangs on. Believing that she can do it.

In the beautiful "The Way Back," we have prisoners from a Soviet concentration camp, first exiled to Siberia. Then some of them decide they've had enough, and endeavor to escape (all of this being in the trailer, I'm spoiling nothing; also this happens in the beginning of the film). They do escape, and begin their trek. I suppose they are heading toward that nebulous "freedom." Their path seems to go from Siberia to Mongolia to Tibet to India. On foot.

Needless to say, of the ones who start on the journey, not all of them make it, for various reasons. But it's a battle. A struggle to survive. A struggle to make it to the other side. A struggle to be free.

It seems that many of us, with millions of Americans unemployed, are struggling just to survive, too. Hanging on. Trying to make that meager unemployment check last just a little bit longer. Piecing together rent with odd jobs, believing, against all odds that that next job is somewhere around the corner. I really believe that hanging on and believing you'll make it is the new American dream.

No more streets paved with gold, we'd be happy to get a paycheck regularly. And this "endurance cinema" reflects that. Hang on, hang on, hang on, just a little bit longer.

"The Way Back" isn't quite as bleak and despairing as last year's "The Road," but it's a tough go. The ending brought tears to my eyes, but boy! was it a long slog to get there. Mind you, I do love Peter Weir as a director. His "Dead Poet's Society" remains one of my favorite films. And visually (thank you, Russell Boyd), "The Way Back" is stunning to look at. Vast landscapes that include icy snow-covered peaks, as well as vast deserts.

In "Conviction," though, it was clear what the motive and struggle was. In "The Way Back," they put themselves though lots of dangerous situations, and it's kind of unclear why exactly. They talk at the beginning about how "there's a bounty on your heads," from neighboring villagers, but this threat is never bourne out, or even hinted at, once they escape.

It's enough of a stretch to believe that people one day just say, "Hey! Let's walk across Mongolia!" but that they do it without ANY help from villagers along the way strains credulity a bit.*

I watch "Survivor" pretty much every week since it started (a few missed seasons here and there). The parts I love the most are the way people interact with each other (there is much of that in this movie). The parts I REALLY dislike vehemently (OK, I admit, I'm a city girl, and I'd never survive in the wild) are the parts where chicken's heads are lopped off, or animals are otherwise killed for food. Sadly, there is also a lot of that in this movie.

Sure, I understand, they are starving, they need to eat. Do I really need to watch it, though?

Another endurance movie is looming on the horizon, one that I am distinctly NOT going to see: "127 Hours." People in our office this week spoke again of people fainting at screenings. Know this, anyone who plans to go see this one: the hiker goes by himself into the wild, and ends up CHOPPING OFF HIS OWN ARM. And they show it. GRAPHICALLY. Why are people surprised about this? Every screening has someone fainting.

I don't intend to faint. I don't intend to see it, Oscar-worthy or not. I've had enough of endurance films for this season.

ADDENDUM: * I know it's based on a true story. I know people actually did this. Still...

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