I found out my answer to that question the hard way last night, when I braved some seriously nasty weather to see Radiohead at Bristow, Virginia's Nissan Pavilion. (What, you thought I was kidding?) Torrential rains flooded the roads to the venue, so just getting there felt like an episode of Man Vs. Wild; once I arrived, I plunged calf-deep into several cold, muddy puddles on my way to my seat, where I was only partially sheltered from the freezing sheets of water pelting the poor folks who had spots on the lawn. Let's just say Thom Yorke's flawless falsetto wasn't the only thing making me shiver.
But you know what? It was so worth it! Those of us who made it into the theater on time were rewarded with a real prize of a set list. The band gave us spirited versions of O.G. fan favorites like "Lucky," "Paranoid Android" ("rain down," indeed), "Karma Police," and "Planet Telex" (the latter with a groovy rainbow-colored light show) — any one of which could have been the call-your-friend highlight of another show on its own. Thom repeatedly apologized to the sodden crowd; he even dedicated a touching "Fake Plastic Trees" to the fans who couldn't make it to the venue due to the storm. Oh, and the jokes. Thom introduced an encore of "Optimistic" by instructing chilly lawn-dwellers to "Find someone to cuddle up with, find out where they live, go home, get undressed, and turn the heat up." If that option didn't pan out, he suggested we "come backstage after the show, and we'll get you sorted out"... lingering pause... "with towels 'n' s---!" ("Old school rock 'n' roll," another band member — I believe it was Ed O'Brien — quipped after the punchline.) Talk about a crowd-pleasing performance!
"No one in novels watches TV," a character declares early in Jane Austen Book Club author Karen Joy Fowler's Wit's End, by way of explaining why she no longer thinks printed literature is a truly living medium. There are several levels of irony included in that casual dismissal: This character happens to be a wildly successful novelist herself, for one. And Wit's End happens to be a novel in which lots of people watch a lot of TV. Fowler's characters chat casually about Lost, Prison Break, 24, Star Trek: The Next Generation, Battlestar Galactica, Bones, and more. She really does capture what it's like to be a post-millennial pop-culture junkie without beating the theme into readers' heads, and that alone makes me respectfully differ with the solid B that Wit's End received in EW recently. I wolfed it down over the course of two recent plane flights, and I can't recommend it highly enough.
Wit's End has also gotten much attention for the way its plot turns on characters' use of Wikipedia, LiveJournal, and fanfic sites. The websites themselves come to life practically as vividly as some of Fowler's secondary characters. As io9's Annalee Newitz has put it, this makes the novel a kind of "science fiction in the present": "While there are no aliens here, or artificial intelligences who come to life, Wit's End
manages to skirt the edges of science fiction themes beautifully,
hinting at the ways our lives have become the stuff of science fiction
without us noticing." And these big, explicit nods to the world that Web 2.0 has wrought aren't so different from those incidental TV references, are they? In both, Fowler is playing with the communities created by a popular medium — the incredible collective experiences shared by people who watch a series or user-edit a website.
I think the reason I like Wit's End so much is because it fits into one of my favorite kinds of entertainment: pop culture about other kinds of pop culture. The Truman Show was a movie about TV; the fourth-season finale of Curb Your Enthusiasm was a TV episode about Broadway (Mel Brooks' The Producers). Have any of you out there read Wit's End? And even if not, do you have any other favorite cross-media works of art like this?
Yes, PEHDTSCKJMBA. It's pronounced "pesskah-jumbah," roughly, and, as Tom Waits explains in the transfixing press-conference clip below, it's an acronym for the cities he'll be playing on this summer's "Glitter and Doom" tour: Phoenix, El Paso, Houston, Dallas... PEHDTSCKJMBA can also stand for "People Envy Happiness; Dogs, Though, Sense Courage, Knowing Jubilation Means Better Assets," Waits informs us. Really, you should just watch the whole thing as soon as possible. (Make positively sure to stay through the end — it's only 4 minutes long.) Waits deconstructs the meet-the-press ritual with his typical oddball panache, leading to a Q&A session that's about as surreal as any of Dylan's in Don't Look Back.
So what do you think of this bit of performance art? Does it make you any more interested in Waits' tour? And perhaps most importantly, as a friend of mine asked after seeing this clip, which is stranger: This stunt or the fact that Scarlett Johansson is actually releasing an album of Waits covers in a couple weeks? PEHDTSCKJMBA!
In the past few months, I've personally witnessed everyone from Jay-Z to the Roots to Joanna Newsom interrupting their concerts to show Sen. Barack Obama some love — plus, of course, I've heard the billions of shout-outs that they and other musicians have offered him in interviews, songs, and videos. Now, just in time for the candidate's coronation by the punditocracy this week, we've got another musical endorsement on our hands. This one's from L.A. dreamer Ti$a, a.k.a. Taz Arnold of acclaimed left-of-center hip-hop collective Sa-Ra. And unlike many of the well-meaning tributes thrown Obama's way, Ti$a's "Vote Obama" is kinda fun regardless of your politics.
Not the song itself, necessarily. (It loops Ice Cube's "It Was A Good Day" over, and over, and over, pushing that classic sample to the brink of annoyance. There aren't much in the way of lyrics, either.) But check out that video (below)! It's a pure candy-colored psychedelic treat, featuring featuring lots of celeb cameos. (Kanye West, Chris Brown, um, Travis Barker...) I haven't seen such a weird and cool-looking piece of campaign propaganda since Mike Gravel's last viral opus.
So help me brainstorm here. What cabinet position do you think Taz deserves in January based on this fine piece of work? Undersecretary of Trippy Parades? Day-Glo Funkmaster General, perchance? I think even John McCain could agree on one of those...
Chi-town rapper/actor Common's very cool upcoming album, Invincible Summer, has a much more synth-based sound than his last couple efforts — shiny circuitry in place of organic soul, you might say. (More on this in EW's summer music preview coverage, in print later this month.) But don't tell that to the character he'll be playing on-screen in the new Terminator sequel. According to Variety, Com's just been cast in T4as a human "freedom fighter," working closely with John Connor (Christian Bale) to take down those evil, murderous machines... so, probably not a guy who listens to a lot of mechanistic electro-rap.
But word! This almost makes up for that Ghostface/Iron Man snub. In all seriousness, this sounds great to me. I'm a fan of his music, of course, but I also thought he showed surprising sensitivity in his few American Gangster scenes last year, where he played one of Denzel Washington's brothers. What do you say? Bale's a pretty intense dude to share a screen with — think Common can hold his own alongside him?
Several of you mentioned yesterday that you are determined to see Radiohead in concert at least once within your lifetimes. My own relationship with the Oxford rockers differs slightly: I have made it my personal mission to witness their live show as many times as possible before I croak. Now, they don't tour the U.S. all that often, and my dedication to this mission is limited by my simultaneous commitment to things like "not going broke" and "remaining employed," so I have actually seen the band on a comparatively paltry four occasions in the past eight years (plus one very cool set that Thom Yorke and Jonny Greenwood played on their own). The fourth was last night at West Palm Beach's Cruzan Amphitheatre, the very first stop on a 40-odd-date world tour. It was a show I'd been waiting to see for nearly two years — pretty much since I got home from the last Radiohead show I saw, a June 2006 date in Boston.
Back then, they were midway through playing a series of smallish venues, road-testing the new material that would eventually become last fall's In Rainbows. I don't believe they've ever played those songs for a crowd as huge as the one that packed the amphitheater last night, though, a sea of adoring fans stretching way back past the proper seats into a verdant field. The stage was minimally adorned — a few light columns and a video screen, all energy-saving LEDs, plus several Tibetan flags — so it was just the five of them and all 20,000 or so of us, no distractions, no cushion.
Well, apparently he's spinning because he's in a studio that's been engineered to slowly rotate through 360 degrees, like one of those gimmicky revolving restaurants. But that really doesn't even begin to answer the questions raised by the mesmerizing video that Mr. West posted on his consistently entertaining blog. I mean, is he trying to send us a cryptic hint about a top-secret musical project? (First we hear he's recording at a freak-folk-friendly Sacramento studio, now this.) Gnarls Barkley's "No Time Soon" plays throughout the clip as 'Ye silently putters on his laptop. So maybe he's working on some kind of remix for those dudes? Or he could just be showing off an absurdly over-the-top bit of luxury design, like all the other random prototypes he's always posting. Perhaps Kanye had this room commissioned because he does his best work when slightly dizzy.
Or this could all be a subliminal ad for the MacBook he's using. Or — wait! — is it some sort of elaborate Photoshop trick? I dunno, but that meaningful stare he gives the camera as the clip fades out is driving me crazy. What do you say?
Free shows, free single — Coldplay is just feeling sofree right now! Well, that single will only be free for another few days, so you'd better head to their website and snap it up while you still can. Of course, I filled out their form a couple days ago, twice, and I have yet to receive the magical email bearing "Violet Hill" in either my work or personal inbox... but assuming you can get your mitts on an MP3, what will you be getting into?
First off, Brian Eno's production has done these guys well. "Violet Hill" opens with a thin synth wash that's very Music for Airports, and proceeds from there to some droning, stabbing guitar textures that sound cooler than most any Coldplay tunes I can think of. Still, the songcraft itself feels lacking. The melody's fine, if nothing special; I can accept that Chris Martin may have spent up all his truly indelible melodies on the band's first few albums. But those lyrics! Surely even he knows how clunky the words he's singing these days are. (Forcing a slant-rhyme out of "December" and "cathedrals"? For real?)
Then again, Gwyneth thinks the whole album is "brilliant." And who am I to argue with her? You tell me — am I the only one left a little, er, cold by playing "Violet Hill"? And while we're at it, can anyone figure out what's up with that bizarre, Delacroix-jacking cover art?
Where would we be, as a nation, without Adam Chodikoff? Admittedly, the first question that springs to mind when you hear his name might be more like, "Adam Chodiwho?" But check out this fascinating profile that ran in the Washington Post yesterday (hat tip). Apparently Chodikoff's a top researcher/editor at The Daily Show; he's been there since they launched in 1996, which I think is longer than any of the current on-air talent. He's the guy who sifts through the news cycle's detritus every day, compiling video-clip reels that catch public figures in lies and inconsistencies. Those montages are the show's bread and butter — the thing that sets The Daily Show at its best apart from mere stand-up, however clever, and takes it closer to the realm of real journalism.
Actually, it sounds like Chodikoff might actually be more rigorous in his research methods than a lot of "real journalists." Executive producer David Javerbaum, who calls Chodikoff TDS's "unsung hero," doesn't pull his punches on this point: "We think all of these [TV networks] are really, really bad at what they do. My opinion is they suck at their jobs." That's no shock to a hardened media cynic like myself, but I'm impressed to see that point acknowledged (more or less) in as venerable a mainstream outlet as the Post.
Last night's ep was particularly strong, in my estimation; below is a funny/insightful clip about talking-head idiocy for which, I'm assuming, we can thank Chodikoff. Anyone else have a renewed appreciation for the research that goes into your nightly dose of Daily after reading that piece?
Forget Robert Downey Jr. Never mind that admittedly awesome trailer. The real reason I was looking forward to seeing Iron Man this weekend was, of course, Ghostface Killah's reported cameo. But word got out this week that the Wu-Tang rapper's character doesn't show up in the final cut.
Aw, man! Why'd they do Ghost like that? Seeing him and RDJ share "an exchange about lending each other yachts and Bentleys" whilst partying in Dubai would have meant so much to us fans. And Ghost really deserved this. By naming his first album Ironman and obsessively referring to himself as "Tony Starks" in song for the following decade, he singlehandedly made a second-string Marvel character cool again. (To a generation of kids who don't know from Sabbath, that is.)
And now, after a career's worth of pro bono product-placement work, Ghost gets bupkis. That SOHH story linked above says that director Jon Favreau made it up to him by commissioning an original Iron Man-themed rap song for the movie — which I guess could help salve the pain caused by his on-screen absence a little bit. In the meantime, I'll have to content myself with "We Made It" (below; lotsa NSFW language), a vintage Starks performance featuring what appears to be sampled dialogue from an old Iron Man cartoon. Anyone else wondering what a rapper's gotta do to score a cameo in a superhero movie?
I dunno about you, but I'm getting a little impatient for this spring's weather to turn a little spring-ier. Luckily for me, the Brooklyn Botanic Garden commissioned this gorgeous time-lapse video (below) of their cherry trees blossoming over the past week. (Hat tip.) And just like that, my mental climate has gone from "air conditioned cubicle-y" to "pleasantly floral"! That's more than enough to put this clip on my personal Must List — even if that so-called "original music" soundtrack is totally just a dude playing the riff from "Clocks" over and over again.
On that note, let's hear it. Which current TV shows/movies/music/books/games/websites make your Must
List this week? In the comments below, list up to three, and include
your e-mail address so we can contact you if we decide to use your
submission in the magazine. Deadline is tomorrow, Thursday, May 1, at
10 a.m. ET.
I was pretty upset when T.I. was caught in a federal gun sting last fall. Above all, my heart went out to a smart, personable artist who'd gotten himself into some major trouble — and on a purely selfish level, I worried that the 30-year prison term he was facing might cut the career of one of my favorite rappers way too short. But T.I. was able to strike an extraordinarily lenient plea bargain last month, and today he debuted his first post-arrest music. "No Matter What," the lead single from his new album Paper Trail (now bumped up to an August 12 release), is streaming on StreetCred.com; you can also check it out below. So how does T.I. sound these days?
Good news: This ordeal hasn't taken anything out of him, talent-wise. That's not to say he hasn't changed. The T.I. we knew was a stylish lyricist, a guy who grinned as he delivered boasts and death threats in a shower of mellifluous verse. Here he slows that quicksilver flow down to a reflective drawl that matches producer Nate "Danja" Hills' stately beat. He wants us to hear what he has to say. That includes words of genuine contrition: "Apologies to the fans, I hope you can understand it/Life can change
directions, even when you ain't plan it/All you can do is handle
it." It also includes some glimpses of defiant pride: "Pain's a small thing to a giant/I was born without a dime/Out the
gutter I climbed/Spoke my mind/And didn't stutter one time/Ali said
even the greatest have to suffer sometimes." Ultimately, he settles on a spirituality that recalls Tupac Shakur's most influential work: "I hope the picture's painted clear/If your heart's filled with faith, then you can't fear/Wonder how I faced years and I'm still chilling?/Easy: Let go and let God deal with it." There are more than a few contradictions and ambiguities packed into all that — and he never quite gets around to talking about what was going through his mind when he decided to buy up all those illegal weapons. Then again, it would have been very easy for T.I. to back away entirely from his inner turmoil and cut an impersonal club banger for his first single. I'm glad he chose to bare his (complicated) soul again instead. Aren't you?
All the snapshots I took at Foals' show last Thursday night at the Bowery Ballroom came out mad blurry. This is partly because I am a very poor photographer, and partly because I was being jostled constantly by the mosh-happy Britons in the crowd. But it's also because the Oxford five-piece -- my second-favorite artist of that description -- are a particularly jumpy band. They were bubbling with nervous energy: Frontman Yannis Philippakis executed a Thom Yorke-ish pace/flail dance early on, eventually settling into an intense staredown with his mic, facing stage left, while his bandmates were similarly spastic all night.
And who can blame them for being a little on edge? While their debut Antidotes is uniformly excellent, it's made up of the kind of fearlessly experimental indie rock that doesn't always endear itself to American audiences. I've been listening to Antidotes nonstop for a few weeks now, and even I had my doubts about how well Foals would be able to recreate its dark, layered studio sound in a sweaty club. Indeed, one mustachioed dude guesting on saxophone couldn't quite live up to the rich Afrobeat parts that the full horn section from Antibalas contributed to the album. But that hardly mattered. The core members turned those complex compositions into incredibly tight grooves. They're a young band still; in time they'll no doubt get even tighter. If they can hold on to that wild-eyed live passion at the same time, they've got nothing to worry about.
Anyone else seen Foals in concert recently, or enjoying their album? I recommend both experiences, for sure. In the meantime, the brand-new video for their great song "Red Socks Pugie" is below (hat tip) -- and you can click here for a live performance of the same tune from last fall, when they were even less practiced than they've become...
Usher's "Love in this Club" is easily one of the year's best pop or R&B singles to date. After weeks of constant TV/radio rotation, I still can't stop humming that pre-chorus hook (and no, I don't care whether or not producer Polow Da Don got those loops straight from GarageBand). But when one realizes, as Usher does, that one "want{s} to make love in this club," the real question is: With whom? That first version includes a decent guest verse from Young Jeezy; a semi-official remix added a welcome cameo from T.I., who put his slick "My Love" flow to good use yet again. But this week, Ush hit us with a special slow-jam sequel. "Love in This Club Part II" (below; some NSFW language) attempts to one-up its predecessors with all-new vocals from Beyoncé and Lil Wayne. And?
Well, Idolator’s already comparing it to R. Kelly's untouchably classic "Ignition Remix," which is just silly. If you ask me, the slower tempo does no favors to "Love in This Club," which was already a bit serious and gooey-sounding for a song about public sex. Now that it's become a straight-up quiet storm joint, Usher's can't-wait come-ons sound even more ridiculous and creepy. ("Don’t be shy, go on, let your boy get in," he croons, "So you can tell all of your friends you was on the remix.") As for Wayne, well, he's Wayne. For every moment of awe-inspiringlyricalgenius he's capable of, he seems to turn out a bonus burst of phoned-in drivel like this. He recycles lines and cadences from his own "Lollipop" and his popular remix of Mario's "Crying Out for Me"; all that's new is a particularly raspy vocal tone. The only real strong point in the whole song is Beyoncé, who's in great voice. It's nice to hear her on some new music, but what's she doing wasting her time on this subpar mess?
Then again, that's just my take; anyone out there like "Part II" as much as Usher's first try?
A couple weeks ago, EW's Missy Schwartz broke the news that Fergie had recorded a new song called "Labels or Love" for Sex and the City: The Movie. "It’s an entirely new song with lyrics," director Michael Patrick King promised, "but it has the Sex and the City theme as the DNA — on steroids."
I'm of a few minds here. The lyrics are a crass ode to conspicuous consumption; Fergie's imitated the very worst of SATC, replicating its designer-name-dropping surface with none of its heart. She might be aiming for a wink-wink, modern-day "Material Girl" vibe, but to me, the words of "Labels or Love" feel more like Gwen Stefani's loathsome "Luxurious," a song whose unironically materialistic attitude made me want to smash in the radio of the car wherein I first heard it. (And as Idolator points out, these hyper-commercial themes are also oddly out of step with our economically dismal times.) It's no great shakes musically, either. Why sample the SATC theme song only to waste it on dime-a-dozen synths instead of that signature piano twinkle?
But you know what? Somehow I don't hate "Labels or Love." I know I should, but I don't. "Love's like a runway..." — I couldn't disagree more, but that hook is just so catchy! I even enjoy the part where she tries to rap, somewhat tragically ("Gucci, Fendi, Prada purses, purchasing them finer things / Men, they come a dime a dozen, just give me them diamond rings"). Okay, okay: You win again, Fergie Ferg. I give up in the face of your ability to create pop gold out of the most ridiculous subject matter imaginable. Anyone else in the same boat?
How much do the owners of the Empire State Building charge for the right to tint it pretty colors? I ask only because I'm curious about how much Island Def Jam's marketing team is shelling out today, when the former tallest building in the world will be radiant in pink, lavender, and white to celebrate the solemn occasion of "the week after a Mariah Carey album comes out."
There are so many things I love about the press release that just showed up (twice!) in my inbox. For starters, Mariah is kicking off this wonderful event with a lighting ceremony planned for early this afternoon. That's right, she's lighting up the Empire State Building... in broad daylight. But not to worry. At this important ceremony, Mariah won't be illuminating the actual Empire State Building, but rather "flip{ping} the light switch on a scale model of the Empire State Building." A scale model! How Spinal Tap. Lastly, I'd just like to note that the building's color scheme is being altered to Mariah's tastes for the entirety of this weekend. I think that's longer than they give some major holidays!
Okay, okay, I'll go back to listening to the unstoppable earworm that is "Touch My Body" now. (All extravagant publicity grabs aside, I concede that E=MC2 is a pretty great album.) But I won't be able to stop myself from looking up in reverent awe / amused disbelief if I happen to be anywhere near 34th St. this weekend. Will you?
I am not a huge sports person (shocker, I know), but I
do greatly enjoy arcane disputes between rappers — and just in time for
the NBA playoffs, those two worlds have collided. As one of my less hopelessly dorky friends informed me at a convivial seder recently, Washington
Wizards shooting guard DeShawn Stevenson said last month that Cleveland Cavaliers small forward LeBron James was "overrated"; LeBron retorted that said insult was akin
to, say, Soulja Boy dissing Jay-Z; and just this past weekend, Soulja Boy himself chimed in to express his displeasure at being used as a synonym for
"wack rapper." (My NBA-savvy sources tell me that
Stevenson's the one who should really be miffed: He might not be in
shouting distance of LeBron's talent, but he is not an irritatingly
talentless nobody like Soulja Boy, whose greatest achievement to date is providing the raw material for a brilliant parody by blogger Jay Smooth.)
Point is, I see the makings of an epic musical battle shaping up. LeBron name-checked Jay-Z for a reason: He and the Jiggaman are good buddies. (Jay's even called LeBron an honorary "Roc member.") And we know that Jay's nursed his share of lyrical grudges in the past. Sure, he says he's older and wiser now — but he's been sounding more and more like his hungry old self lately. So could he defend his guy with some poisonous couplets aimed at Stevenson and/or Soulja Boy? The watch for a ruthless subliminal attack hidden inside Jay's next guest verse starts now.
Okay, maybe this is an unlikely scenario considering that neither Soulja Boy nor Stevenson have said anything at all negative about him — and since the whole point of LeBron's wisecrack was that someone as powerful as Jay would have no reason to swat back at an annoyance like Soulja Boy. Whatever! Let me have my dream! Alternately, Soulja
Boy also told the Cleveland Plain Dealer that he'd consider "a 2-on-2 basketball
game for charity between himself and Stevenson against James and
Jay-Z." Now that's a game I'd tune in for. In the meantime, have any of you been following this somewhat contrived war of words?
It was just this month that I sorted through a quarter-century worth of R.E.M. videos, from the ground-breakingly awesome to the embarrassingly lame. If only I'd waited a few more weeks! I'd definitely have included the brand-new clip they released this week for "Hollow Man." (Thanks to Stereogum for pointing us toward the embeddable version, below.)
This is one of the stronger tunes from their very solid new album — though, disappointingly, it is not a song about that Bacon-starring B movie as far as I can tell. Video directors Crush Inc. give it a playful treatment, splashing the lyrics on-screen in a way that reminds me of Jonas & François and So Me's collaborative effort on Kanye West's fantastic "Good Life" clip last year. Of course, this being R.E.M., those lyrics are more meditative than celebratory, and the images behind the colorful words are spare and lonely ones. But the clip as a whole has way more dynamic energy than I'd expect from a late-period R.E.M. video; it's miles ahead of the passable but forgettable promo for first single "Supernatural Superserious." All in all, definitely one for the "great" column, I think. Don't you?
Did anyone catch Radiohead on Late Night with Conan O'Brien last night? As I might have mentioned once or twice before, the Oxford quintet are my bar-none, all-time favorite band ever. No artist's music has meant more to me over the years. And yet, pathetically lame person that I am, I fell asleep well before their performance aired last night. Luckily, NBC is streaming it online today (below), so I got to see them play this morning. Their performance had been pre-recorded in London — the wisely enviro-conscious
band balked at the carbon-emissions cost of flying to Conan's studio — and it was great to see them jamming comfortably in their home element instead of squashed onto a TV soundstage. They did a sweet, low-key version of In Rainbows standout "House of Cards," complete with guitarist Ed O'Brien's faint but crucial backing vocals, something I always look forward to in Radiohead's live incarnation. Truly, a gorgeous performance.
But! I couldn't help noticing something about the band's very funny pre-song patter. Thom Yorke, in a mischievous mood, delivered a few well-chosen words on the green life — including a common British profanity used to describe President Bush, to whom he dedicated the song's "Denial, denial" chorus. (His exact wording, which I suppose makes the clip below somewhat NSFW: "That {expletive} who walked away from the Kyoto agreement, what was his name again?") Of course, I'm not offended in the least by such a fleeting instance of foul language directed at such a deserving target — in fact, it made me enjoy the band's segment even more! — but I was sorta surprised, considering how cautious the FCC's overzealous censorship has made the networks lately. Did NBC actually broadcast that word on national television? (If so, I say good for them!) Perhaps not; this YouTube clip suggests it was muted. So, at the admitted risk of making a mountain out of a very minor molehill, I'm still curious — did any live viewers notice whether NBC let that piquant phrase make it to the air? And if so, did you care?
In retrospect, I really shoulda known better. I'd clicked through the bottom-of-the-barrel Rotten Tomatoes rating, the variouseruditebloggers slamming it, and, of course, my esteemed cubicle-neighbor Adam Markovitz's scathing D-grade review. But still, it had Ben Stein! He was funny in Ferris Bueller! And me, I have a slight glutton-for-punishment streak. So I succumbed to the
relentless TV ad campaign earlier this week and went to see a matinee showing of
the anti-evolution documentary Expelled. Worst decision ever.
Aside from its loony-fringe politics and sheer stupidity — think, for a moment, about how dumb you'd have to be to subtitle your deadly serious pseudo-science film "No Intelligence Allowed" — this movie is just excruciatingly bad from an aesthetic perspective. Imagine if the grating schoolteacher Stein played in Bueller got a whole movie to himself, and it was a holier-than-thou culture-war diatribe instead of a fizzy teen comedy, and also Stein's character was revealed to be an ignorant creep with a penchant for wildly inappropriate Holocaust references. Now I understand why Ferris wanted that day off so desperately!
Anyone else sit through this monstrous excuse for a movie? I stuck around for the whole thing, and never have 90 minutes felt longer. I actually started groaning and muttering at the screen when Stein shamelessly exploited the memory of the millions whom Hitler murdered — which, apparently, was Charles Darwin's fault somehow?! (Seriously, what was Stein thinking with that?) I'd apologize to the audience members who were irritated by my involuntary heckling, but there were only like four of them, and they were people who had paid money to see Expelled, so I don't really feel too bad. Anyway, take it from me: Do not see this movie under any circumstances. Not ironically, not so you can mock it in the footnotes of your Ph.D dissertation on molecular biology, not even because you think it might make a funny "I saw it, so you don't have to" blog item. And if you already made the mistake I did and subjected yourself to this stinker, go ahead and vent your feelings below — and please accept my condolences...
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"No one in novels watches TV," a character declares early in Jane Austen Book Club author Karen Joy Fowler's 
Chi-town rapper/actor Common's very cool upcoming album, Invincible Summer, has a much more synth-based sound than his last couple efforts — shiny circuitry in place of organic soul, you might say. (More on this in EW's summer music preview coverage, in print later this month.) But don't tell that to the character he'll be playing on-screen in the new Terminator sequel. According to Variety, 
Several of you 
Free 
Forget Robert Downey Jr. Never mind that admittedly 
A couple weeks ago, EW's Missy Schwartz 
How much do the owners of the Empire State Building charge for the right to tint it pretty colors? I ask only because I'm curious about how much Island Def Jam's marketing team is shelling out today, when the former tallest building in the world will be radiant in pink, lavender, and white to celebrate the solemn occasion of "the week after a Mariah Carey album comes out."
I am not a huge sports person (shocker, I know), but I
do greatly enjoy arcane disputes between rappers — and just in time for
the NBA playoffs, those two worlds have collided. As one of my less hopelessly dorky friends informed me at a convivial seder recently, Washington
Wizards shooting guard DeShawn Stevenson 
In retrospect, I really shoulda known better. I'd clicked through the bottom-of-the-barrel 
