Realize that this is coming from the perspective of a blue-blooded, board certified “geek”. I love comics. I would probably have sex with one if it were feasible (DAKOTA NORTH #4, if you are wondering). Granted I kind of burned out on X-Men around Uncanny #213, but I like hardcore mutant-on-mutant action as much as anybody. But I got to see it at the Marvel Comics employee screening last night, and it was…meh.
I don’t think it’s director Brett Ratner’s fault, either. A lot of fans complained when the man behind the RUSH HOUR franchise ended up subbing for Brian Singer, when the latter bolted to direct ultra-hunky Brandon Routh in SUPERMAN RETUNS. Like me, for example. But the man can put together a fight scene, and there were some nice little set pieces (including a great one with Jamie Madrox, aka Multiple Man). The problem was the script.
It is no secret the the production was rushed like crazy in order to beat the aforementioned SUPER-flick to the box office, partially as a screw-you to the departed Singer. And it shows. Hey, what happens when you try to cram the Marauders, the Morlocks, Sentinels, a mutant cure and the Dark Phoenix saga into one, supposedly last, story? A freaking mess, that’s what. Every element ends up getting compromised and we are left with a confusing muddle of a story and a dissatisfying finale. Not to mention the fact that witnessing the utter disregard for the comics’ continuity was like Chinese water torture for my inner nerd.* But hey, at least Chris Claremont was in it.
You like watching stuff get blown up and not have to think too much about it? Want to see Kelsey Grammer in a furry blue costume and physics-defying girdle? Then go see this movie. And stay after the credits, if you do. Myself, I will be downloading last night’s LOST season finale so I can watch it at work. Until then, the mezzanine is closed!
*Juggernaut is not a mutant. He got his powers from the mystic Crimson Ruby of Cyttorak. I mean, come on.
This weekend began the four-show run at Hammerstein of Guns ‘N Roses. While each show was sold out in minutes, and a barrage of press hyped the triumphant return of this generations greatest rock band, it was unclear if Axl and company could reclaim their previously held stature. After GNR 2.0 in ‘02 ended in disaster, much was at stake as the curtain lifted on Friday night.
And did they perform up to the standards of greatness? Yes. What we saw was a vintage rock show - an amazing performance by an iconic frontman, backed by an incredibley skilled band playing geniusly crafted songs. Was it the Guns ‘N Roses that we came to know, love, and sometimes hate? Not at all. As with many fallen dynasties, the differences are in the subtitles. Guns ‘N Roses (the original), was so appealing because they captured the essence of every great act since the invention of the distortion pedal. From Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath, to Deep Purple, Aerosmith, and Guns ‘N Roses, it was a formula of their bluesy guitar playing and loose rhythms that made these larger-than-life bands more than the sum of their parts. Axl’s decision to replace the ever melodic Slash’s with the more technically proficient Buckethead, (and now Ron Thal), and the loose feel of original drummers Steven Adler and Matt Sorum with the more punchy and cerebral Brian ‘Brain’ Manita of Primus has erased the bluesy-throwback aesthetic which was the impetus for the original lineup’s superstardom.
Fear not, Guns fans, for an alternative exists to Axl’s cover band. Mr. Brownstone, who, unlike Axl, actually claim to be exactly what they are: a Guns ‘ N Roses tribute band. At new LES hotspot Fontana’s on Saturday night, this collection of clowns recreated what I’m sure every GNR fan hopes to see: a drunken rock mess that both delights, entertains, and leaves you with a wicked hangover. Be sure to see them at Bowery on Sat June 10th!
It sounds like an episode of Law and Order. Sweeney Todd’s young and beautiful wife catches the eye of a prominent judge, who in order to ‘have her’ has Todd exiled to Australia. The judge tricks Todd’s wife into sleeping with him and many of his wealthy friends. After her shame leads her to suicide, the judge takes custody of Sweeney Todd’s daughter.
And all this happens before the play even starts.
Sweeney Todd is a macabre tale of a barber who returns to extract revenge on the man that ruined his family, but along the way develops a little blood lust of his own. Think Soylent Green meets Oliver.
This particular production, at the Eugene O’Neil Theatre, stars Michael Cerveris and Patti LuPone (who you may know from Life Goes On). Cerveris should win the Tony for his portrayal of the demon barber of Fleet Street. His bald shaved head and sunken eyes convey the intensity of a good man turned bad by the evil around him (plus he’s super creepy). The entire cast is impressive not only for their acting ability but also because the play their own instruments — and stay in character while doing so. As if it’s not hard enough for actors out there, now you can’t get a job unless you can play the cello or the accordion?
The staging is unique in that the set is very bare and simple; the actors are all on stage the entire time, the only colors are black and white (with the exception of the blood red of Sweeney Todd’s victims) and almost all the scenes are played to the front. So instead of talking directly to each other, the actors talk to each other out to the audience. It’s a direction that I hadn’t seen before, but I liked it because it really focuses the audience on the few non-musical scenes.
Tickets are expensive, but you might be able to get a student rush seat ($35, 2 hours before showtime with ID), or find a discount online (try checking BroadwayBox). Patti LuPone is only contracted until July 2nd, but I have a feeling it will be very popular after the Tonys on June 11th, so try to go before then.
The day before it’s release on Subpop records Eugene Mirman decided to stage a protest of En Garde Society. Why was he protesting? That’s a good question, considering En Garde Society is Mirman’s own comedy CD.
This protest was arranged because it seemed like the perfect way to promote Mirman’s absurdest comedy. The plan was to start in Union Square and march down 14th street to The Beauty Bar where there would be a screening of the DVD. However, the event was half-assed at best. I don’t think any of the organizers thought they would get away with it, so they were much more concerned with getting in and out quickly than letting the crowd know what was going on. The result was a lot of loyal fans standing around with signs not knowing what to do with themselves. I overheard more than one person say, “Should we chant or something?”
After handing out all of his anti-Eugene placards, Mirman stood in front of the crowd with a loudspeaker and started protesting himself. About two minutes in, he admitted to the crowd that he was surprised the cops hadn’t stopped him yet. After 5 minutes and a round of “Boo-gene, Fuck you-gene” he led the crowd to the bar, where everyone piled in and started drinking. The whole protest had only taken fifteen minutes.
I was at Pianos in Oct 2005 when this album was recorded [review], and really liked it. I even think the protest/publicity stunt could’ve been a lot of fun; but it wasn’t, it was kind-of ‘eh’. I hate to say it, but I don’t think Mirman had the balls to pull this off. He should have been much louder, stayed there much longer, and taken it much further. However, I do think you should buy the CD and go see him in a regular venue, cause he’s usually funny as hell.
“What ground-up herb does Tim love?” my teammates asked me as we stood outside the York St. station in DUMBO. We looked for a sign that would answer our question, we spoke with the guy in the MTA booth (are you Tim?), we even asked a cop standing nearby if he knew. Finally when we were ready to walk away, I saw the answer. “Thyme! Tim loves Thyme!” It had been written in the cement, in plain view of the doorway, but you could walk over it everyday and never notice it. At least, not unless you were taking place in Metro Metro’s annual scavenger hunt.
Started by three guys, Bo, Brady and Will, in 2002, Metro Metro has hosted trivia nights, spy games and fake office parties, but what they are best known for is their ability to encourage a bunch of well mannered New Yorkers to don matching t-shirts/masks/wigs and run around the city making fools of themselves. On Saturday, I was one such fool.
From now on when I think of the boy in the bubble, I will think of David Blaine and his latest stunt. He has sealed himself in a giant ball filled with water in front of Lincoln Center in his latest attempt at fame and fortune. Fancying himself a modern day Houdini, Blaine has previously been buried alive for seven days, frozen himself in ice, stood on a small platform at the top of a 100 foot high pole for 35 hours, and lived in a Plexiglas box for 44 days without food.
This newest endurance test has him living in the water-filled sphere for a week at the end of which he will hold his breath for 9 minutes, hoping to beat the world record.
Upon first glance, one can’t help but think of Daryl Hannah in Splash; you know, that scene where she’s been captured and she’s stuck in the tiny tank in the lab. But I’ll admit that there is something magical in walking up to a giant blue bubble with a person floating in it. This sort of ‘hurry hurry hurry, step-right-up-and-see-it’ carnival atmosphere — for free — is unusual and fun. It’s because of these crowd gathering, large scale spectacles that Blaine often gets compared to Houdini. But the similarities stop there. Houdini would escape from a straight jacket while suspended upside down. Blane is sitting in water, and later, he’s gonna hold his breath.
The choice of location seems really odd to me as well. This is Lincoln Center, a cultural institution — home of the Metropolitan Opera House and Julliard. It speaks volumes to the dumbing down of America that it is also now the site of ABC’s newest ratings stunt.
I can spend 6 hours in my bathtub. Can I have a TV show?
I understand the need to push the limits of human endurance. It’s what allows mankind to climb mountains, explore the deepest oceans, even venture into space. But the way Blane is doing it isn’t clever or useful. A two-year-old could come up with this idea, “Oh yeah, well I’m gonna hold my breath til I turn blue”. I would be much more impressed if Blane continued to work on his illusions– an art form I hold in high respect — and stayed away from the stupid human tricks.
It’s been burning since 5:30 this morning and my clothes still stink of smoke even though I was across the river. The 10-Alarm fire in Greenpoint, Brooklyn is being called the worst fire since 9/11. The flames seem to be contained and mostly it’s just smoke at this point, but firefighters still say it’ll be another 24-hours before it’s out completely. No one is quite sure how it started, although there is talk of arson.
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From now on when I think of the boy in the bubble, I will think of 
