NYCweboy

And The Lampshades Are On Fire

Didn't want to entirely pass this by - if nothing else, catch this great piece from Monday's Times Op-Ed page because it's great writing, as well as fairly scandalous. Apparently, you just can't fool iTunes (yet more reason to be a Mac).

Of course, you could wonder why it didn't make Arts & Leisure the first go round, but a day later.

Then marvel at how it made the front page of The Boston Globe the next day, with a word about their critic's review of Hatto's work.

This One's For The Girls

Like a number of non-controversies I've been following, but not quite commenting on, I find the debate over the Cervical Cancer vaccine at once amusing and appalling. 

I don't think the debate on this is all that hard - the vaccine prevents a virus that causes a serious cancer. Thousands of women will be heped by having it.  But of course, since it's about a sexualy transmitted disease, we (Americans, I mean) can't help, it seems, but make it more than it is.

There are several things tied up in this debate, and I'd like to  try and separate them:

Oscar 101: The Language Of Film Is Universal...If English Is Your Universe.

In the end, the problems with this year’s Oscars can be summed up in one sentence: Had Pan’s Labyrinth been nominated for Best Picture, it would have won.

Or put another way: the time is coming when “Best Foreign Film” just won’t cut it.

Of all the things wrong with this year’s show – it was long, it was dull, it underlined the “Hollywood Coastal” mindset, and not in a good way – the most glaring had to do with the quality of the nominees. Unlike the past few years, which seemed to be about energy moving in the direction of change, Oscar’s (or, rather, The Academy’s) worst impulses came out, and change was resisted pretty much as actively as possible.

How else to explain:

• That huggy Best Supporting Actor award to industry stalwart Alan Arkin over the career defining role of Eddie Murphy (who, clearly, did not help things with Norbit coming out in voting season; but still, for a minute, consider what it says that the industry’s most successful black comedian ever can’t win in his best performance ever.)
• That huggy Best Director award to Martin Scorsese (by the Grande Trio of Lucas, Spielberg and Coppola, no less; could the “we’re finally letting you in the Club” message be more blatant?) for a remake of a vastly superior film… while overlooking the obvious message in the other awards that Mexican cinema (Babel, 2 Oscars; Pan’s Labyrinth, 3 Oscars) had finally come of age?
• That in a year hailed as the “triumph of International Cinema” the writing awards went to two white men; the acting awards went to two African Americans, a British woman, and a white man; and the directing award went to another white man (like all the Directors in Academy history have been men, by the way)?

Any Port In A Storm

I got home about an hour ago - spent some time catching up on mail and stuff online - and I have several posts I will try to get up tonight (so please, scroll around).  One of them is a longer riff on the Oscars, but I wanted to get a few thoughts up while I finalize that piece:

• First, there was the amazing trek home - which we started during the midst of the "no big deal" snowstorm, which turned out to be a big deal: by about a mile outside the city, it was clear the roads were hopeless, and my thought of the hillls of Westchester made me too nervous to go on, so we wound up at a motel.  In Yonkers.  Very weird.  And then I got caught up - again - watching In Her Shoes, which I think may be one of the best movies I dismissed out of hand when it first came out.  I am so sorry.  You should see it.
• As for the Oscars themselves, Harry Knowles pretty much has the blow-by-blow I like best (though he's a Scorsese fan, and I'm not), and Go Fug Yourself catches the big dress mess-ups. 

Me?  I thought the show was long and dull, longer and duller than usual, and indeed excruciating by the end. Ellen was fine, but not exciting, and I think my friend Gina (hard G) summed it up best I think in saying that her act was swallowed up by the enormity of the Kodak Theater, which is just too big. My other thoughts:

• I don't know why God chose to punish movie fans with Al Gore, but whatever I did, I'm sorry. Dear God, I'm sorry. Just please take him away.
• Congratulations, Melissa Etheridge for a song most unlikely to make it into future Oscar medleys!
• Looking back on my picks, I was closer than I thought I had been while I was watching. Score one for me.  I should have seen the Alan Arkin thing coming.
• Those giant Oscar statues they use for decorating lately are very creepy and disconcerting.
• I want an iPhone.  That commercial was genius. :)
• Dresses?  The best in rough order: Rinko Kikuchi, Cate Blanchett, Reese Witherspoon, Diane Keaton, Celine Dion, Keisha Whitaker, Penelope Cruz.  The worst: Cameron Diaz, Nicole Kidman, Beyonce, Eddie Murphy's wife, Jennifer Lopez. 
• I liked them, but I understand why people didn't: Meryl Streep, Rachel Weisz, Jessica Biel, Jodie Foster, Anne Hathaway. I didn't like it, but it's personal: Gwyneth Paltrow. I didn't like it and I feel bad about that: Jennifer Hudson.
• The Departed?  Seriously... The Departed? You're kidding... right?

My Awards Show Has A First Name (It's O-S-C-A-R...)

Okay, time for the predix, as Variety would say.

I've always yearned to write this article - I used to envy the movie critics who got to do the Oscar write-up; now, with so many outlets and so much chatter (and all the dress craziness)), the bloom is off that rose.  But still, now is my time.

Let me start by saying that I think last year was only a so-so year for Oscar-worthy films.

My Box In A Box; My Dad In A Honda

A couple more funny clips: as I was pulling together the Candyman post, and trying to find the SNL "My D**k In A Box," I tripped over this hilarious answer video.  It's not just that they've done the "turnabout is fair play," angle, it's that they went to the length of writing a whole new song to demonstrate it (surely as sweet as any Britney or Christina track):

Meanwhile, via To Whom It May Concern, I found Joey and Dave today - check out their site. Here's a taste:

I think one of the great results of YouTube has been to free some great short form comedy video makers to strut their stuff.  Why don't these people wind up at SNL or Mad TV?

Fashion Notes: For The Lonely Spinster Who Wants To Dress Like A Space Alien

The Times provides its half-yearly fashion supplement today.  I've avoided it the past few years, partly because the Times has been retooling this "book" and its other "lifestyle" supplements (The Sophisticated Traveler, The Design and Architecture Supplement, and now one on Entertaining) into a "T" concept that's supposed to unite them but mostly seems silly. 

One unfortunate result is a sameness to the covers of the last three offerings of "Fashions of The Times" - a head and shoulders shot of a "who?" starlet (I noticed it beginning with Catherine Keener, followed by Penelope Cruz, and now Robin Wright Penn.  As I said, "who?"). It's worse than Vogue, even, because the outfits have not really been representative (or visible, even) of the season, and they're made up... like starlets, so who cares?

Inside, I suspect Jennifer will be mighty annoyed because the emphasis is on slick and arty, and not really on wearable; how this is supposed to help a Times reader pick clothes is beyond me. (Jennifer's also going to be a little ticked, I think, that she and Mary-Kate Olsen love the same Chanel bag.)

What ticks me is that there's an article in here that goes to my main annoyance with fashion writing: that no one states obvious, negative assessments of designers' work, for fear of alienating them.  Cathy Horyn dives into the challenges facing the house of Yves Saint Laurent, now designed by Stefano Pilati, and in doing so, finally manages to acknowledge something I said years ago: that Tom Ford's collections for the house were not very good.  She includes these thoughts:

Ford certainly had a new vision for the brand, as well as the attention of Wall Street and Hollywood, but his efforts were hindered by the global economic slump that followed the Sept. 11 attacks. It also didn’t help that Bergé continually derided Ford’s work. By the spring of 2004, though, both Ford and the Gucci chief executive Domenico De Sole were out, having lost control in a power struggle with the group’s French owner, Pinault-Printemps-Redoute (PPR).... Zambernardi of Prada told me, “So far, I like what Stefano is doing for YSL, and I never liked what Tom Ford did.”...Although Ford initially got on well with Bergé and Saint Laurent and based his first YSL show on Saint Laurent’s muse, Betty Catroux, he soon realized he could never hope to take YSL in a new direction if he allowed Bergé to be involved, as Bergé expected. This may account for Bergé’s scorn.

Or, it could be, as more than one person noted, Ford's work wasn't cutting it.

I did want to also note that last week's "Thursgay Styles" section elaborated on something hinted at in their earlier article on Anna Wintour - they finally went public with their criticism of the Marchesa dress line, designed by Keren Craig and Georgina Chapman... who, as it happens, is dating Harvey Weinstein. The Times tries to make this look as insider-y as possible (clearly, Harvey's presence is the only reason she's dressing Renee Zellwegger, for instance), but the shoe doesn't quite fit; much of the article makes Craig and Chapman look much more serious than many socialite gown designers (does anyone, for instance, remember Carolyne Roehm?).  Craig and Chapman are clearly hands-on, clearly devoted to the kind of opulent gown construction (sewn-in corsets, etc) that's required for true red carpet fashion, and not just in it for the attention.

And yes, I promise to follow up my New York report with a similar sum-up for Milan. 

He's A One Stop Shop With A Real Big...

Well, here's a handy quiz in how to, er, clean up your act (or at least look like it)... quick question: Is this Dirty?

Or... Is this?

And if nothing else, Bette Midler will certainly take note.

Hat tip to Towleroad, for clueing me into the tasty Candyman clip.... oh and, I almost forgot... as long as we're talking about one stop shopping, let's not forget that ode to holiday gift giving:

You're Uninspired Now, So What Are You Gonna Do?

Man, what a rough week.

I'm just stuck with not a lot of ideas to write about - or rather, few ideas when I have time, and lots of little ideas when I don't. 

The Oscars are coming but I don't feel like doing predictions until tomorrow (I'm hoping by tomorrow, that The Queen will miraculously come from behind to defeat The Departed, but I doubt it).

I could do a bit on Britney Spears, but it boils down to, "my God, people, get this woman some help."

Politics?  Don't get me started... oh, wait, that's been the political story all week: not getting started on Iraq, or Iran or the Presidential campaign.  Wale me when something happens.

Grey's Anatomy?  The way Red keeps giving me a hard time about it? No way. :)

So I'm just going to sign off for the night, travel to New York tomorrow, plan to blog late in the day or early in the evening and hope for the best.  Please bear with me, offer your own thoughts, or send any words of encouragement you can. Thanks for putting up with me, and hopefully you won't give up on me just yet.

A Question of Balance (A Kind Of Grey's Anatomy Blog, But Not Exactly)

I still haven't quite got my rhythm worked out on all of this (the blogging every day thing with a job, I mean)... which isn't surprising because I am a Pisces, and Mercury is retrograde.

Yes, I suppose now is as good a time as any to admit to my fascination with astrology.  My good friends know about it, Red and I even share a love of Rob Brezsny (who I think is a genius).  I'll get more into it later.

Anyway, my Piscean nature is shown in my being emotionally driven, and just about anything can distract me; those who seek someone who has it all together and organized will never really be able to count on me.  But I give great empathy and sympathy.

So no real blog for today, but as I go to bed, I thought it was a bit anticlimactic on Grey's tonight - I mean, when it's called Grey's Anatomy, you can't really kill of your main character, so it was hardly a surprise; but within that parameter, I thought we got a lot of good, interesting work - Sandra Oh could have an Emmy just on tonight alone, and I think the three episode arc was very good for Izzy (though Red, who has come to despise Izzy, will surely differ). 

In the middle of the episode, as we texted back and forth, Red said to me, "Cheese!" referring to the cheesiness of a death storyline.  Practical Virgo that she is (and suffering, far more than I, with this whole retrograde thing), she is, of course, right.  But mood sponge that I am, I'd say don't knock good cheese.  It's the stuff TV is made of.