Seven days ago, I asked the cosmos to grant me my wish of hearing a mash-up of the new singles from Kanye West and Radiohead (both artists are allowing fans to remix their master recordings). And lo, something like six hours later, somebody going by the name of DJ Earworm posted up a remix that met the criteria in the comments section. Since I am a blogger of my word, and I promised the first person who met my challenge a shout-out, here it is: Congrats to DJ Earworm, the first and only remixer to respond to my request, and good looks on the speed! Now, I'm not one to talk — you should hear (or rather, you shouldn't hear) the fiasco that resulted when I attempted to meet my own challenge in GarageBand over the weekend — but I did notice that Earworm's first attempt was a little rough. So I was pleased when he or she returned a few days later and posted a new, improved remix which integrated the two tracks much more smoothly. Hear DJ Earworm's final submission here. Dope! This is something I could really see entering rotation in my iTunes. I don't know much (or anything) about Earworm's other work, but he or she's got skills, don't you think?
If you know me at all, you must have guessed that I'd be irresistibly compelled to write about two developments in the world of music last week. First my #1 faves, Radiohead, encouraged fans to remix their new single "Reckoner" by putting its constituent "stems" for sale on iTunes. (This means fans can buy up to six isolated parts taken from the master recording of "Reckoner" — one with only percussion, one with only guitar, one with only lead vocals, and so on — and then splice, recombine, and otherwise manipulate those parts however they want to create a new piece of music. Radiohead did the same thing earlier this year for "Nude.") Then Kanye West put up the stems of his new single, "Love Lockdown," for free on his own website, letting the public in on his creative process yet again. Stems, stems, as far as the ear can hear!
Radiohead has set up a special website where you can upload your own remix or sift through the hundreds of accumulating entries and vote for the best. (Well-known DJs Cadence Weapon and Diplo have already kicked in predictably dope takes; I'm also partial to vlogger Jay Smooth's Prince mashup.) And there are plenty of cool "Love Lockdown" remixes floating around online, too. (I recommend Teen Wolf's glitched-out attempt and the Perez Hilton-approved T-Minus 321 mix, for starters.)
But here's what I'm wondering. How has no one created a super-remix fusing the stems from both "Love Lockdown" and "Reckoner" yet? The two songs' tempos, feels, and so on aren't totally dissimilar, so I'm pretty sure this would be possible. Whether it would be advisable is a whole other question. But come on! Someone's gotta try, right? I'm hereby throwing down the gauntlet: The first person to mix "Reckoner" and "Love Lockdown" together and post a link in the comments below wins my undying respect, a shout-out of some sort, and probably a lot of clicks from the people at Digg.com. Mega bonus points if your Frankenmix actually sounds any good. I'm giving you a week to pull this off, Internets. (And by all means, let me know if I've somehow missed someone who's already done this...) In the meantime, are there any other new Radiohead or Kanye remixes out there that you're liking?
I was thinking yesterday about suspending my blogging to deal with the mortgage meltdown, but instead I'll just continue making snarky observations about pop culture while the very soul of capitalism spontaneously combusts or whatever. Like this: I've been wondering for a couple weeks now how all the insanity on Wall Street will affect Money Never Sleeps,that misbegotten Wall Street sequel that was supposedly in the works last year. And guess what? Some actual "journalists" have gone ahead and given us all a sneak peak of how Money might play, by cornering Michael Douglas and requesting some sort of in-character comment as Gordon Gekko about the financial crisis. Yes, not one but several professional reporters seem to have followed Douglas to a U.N. event where he was speaking about nuclear test bans, all so they could ask him insightful questions like: "Are you saying, Gordon, that greed is not good?" Hoo boy. Who cares about limiting nukes when that kind of Pulitzer-worthy scoop is within reach?
Douglas, to his credit, refused to take that reporter's bait, adding, "My name is not Gordon. He's a character I played 20 years ago." You can watch the whole sorry spectacle below. And I'm heartened to hear Douglas' reply. Does this mean maybe he's no longer on board to play Gekko in that sequel, as was reported last year? More importantly, now that the clever little Woodwards at that press conference have gotten this out of the way, can we please agree as a nation to stop trying to get Michael Douglas to say sentences that include the words "greed" and "good" from now on? This meme must die! Or, hey, maybe Douglas should give up and agree to take John McCain's place at the debate tonight. What do you say?
Brooks & Dunn have a nifty hit single out now called “Put a Girl in it,” and I only wish the country music industry would take that advice more often. I thought about it as the nominees for the 42nd annual CMA Awards were announced today. Country insiders often bemoan the fact that female artists seem to generally have a tougher time of it at radio than male artists do, or that they at least seem to have fewer slots open to them. That is perennially reflected in the nominations for the CMAs’ highly coveted Entertainer of the Year prize. How long has it been since a woman was even nominated in the category? Here’s a clue: The last female nominee was the then-superstar/now-pariah Dixie Chicks! (You can find a historical list of nominees dating back to 1967 here.) So I was stunned and amazed today when into this reliably vagina-free zone walked Sugarland, who would initially seem, on the face of it, to be half-ineligible. It is no secret by now that the duo are an EW-Approved ™ Country Act (their biggest fan, Whitney Pastorek, found new ways to advocate Sugarland in this very space just yesterday), and thus no surprise that we would endorse this encouraging development on all sorts of levels. Go, “Stay"...etc.
Yet you know I wouldn’t be posting if I hadn’t found some reason to carp, and so here we go: Where is Taylor Swift? If you are an average reader or fan, you are echoing me at this moment and saying, “Yeah, where is Taylor Swift?” If you are in any way connected with the country music industry, you are saying, “Willman, we knew you were an imbecile, but must you so flagrantly trumpet your complete and utter ignorance of the way the world works?” So let me assure you that I had every understanding going in that Swift’s chances of picking up an Entertainer of the Year nomination were roughly less than zero. The category really doesn’t have anything to do with who had a particularly artistic year; it’s largely an ongoing Career Achievement award for performers who are still active superstars. You have to “earn” your way into the category through years of headlining amphitheaters and arenas — I get that, even if I don’t agree with it. And yet, year after year, when Kenny Chesney wins the award (as he will again this time), he comes back to the press room afterward and talks about how good it feels to get the trophy that the industry bestows upon the guy who has been the best or most visible ambassador of country music to the outside world. If that’s really the standard, then, with all due respect to Chesney’s unparalleled live drawing power, wasn’t Swift undeniably country’s Ambassador of the Year in 2008?
Willman's case for Taylor Swift as Entertainer of the Year, after the jump...
I'd been blissfully unaware of Nicolas Cage's new release, Bangkok Dangerous, until this morning, when I was optically assaulted by the photo of him accompanying Josh Rich's Box Office Preview.
STOP WITH THE LONG HAIR, NICOLAS CAGE. Rich may estimate that your Hong Kong action remake will debut at No. 1, but you won't even get me to watch the trailer. I know that you're dedicated to your craft, and that you have a history of controversial hairdos assumed for various roles, but I need to ask you to let this one go.
Sign our petition below, if you agree. If another bad hairdo has ever stopped you from seeing a film, feel free to sound off on it as well. (Our old Cruelest Cuts gallery is full of inspiration.)
Back in 2005, when EW listed the 30 best sports movies on DVD, I interviewed writer-director Ron Shelton (Bull Durham, Tin Cup) about the package's MVP, Kevin Costner. At the time, Shelton said, "Kevin and I are always talking about making a movie. Finding the ones we agree on and the time in his schedule and mine is always the trick, but we've both said many times we'd like to do some more work together."
It's time to make that happen, gentlemen. I don't care if the movie is about curling (pictured). I want Costner speaking Shelton's sharp, smart dialogue, and I want it now. I say this not as someone actually qualified to give career advice to an Oscar winner, but as someone who coveted her sister's Crash Davis poster for years, who saw Waterworld in theaters (twice), who just sat through Swing Vote. My love for you, Kevin, clearly knows no bounds — as long as you still look good in khakis — but you've got to give me something to work with. Occasionally. Reteam with Ron. For me. Pretty please?
I went to see Iron Man this weekend, and liked it a lot more than I expected. One big reason? It didn't have just laughs and comic-geek thrills, but real, first-rate, non-F/X... acting! When Robert Downey Jr. as Tony Stark, pulls Gwyneth Paltrow's Pepper Potts out onto the dancefloor for a little dipping and cooing, the rom-com byplay is superb.
Which made me connect a few movie-industry dots. Hey, remember the whining about the last Oscar telecast, with its low-wattage star vehicles and lower ratings, and all the hand-wringing the media, including EW, did over how to improve the Oscars? Here's a thought. Hey, Hollywood and the Motion Picture Academy: Take a closer squint at the big summer movies. Take them, ahem, seriously. As far as I'm concerned, Downey's performance should go on any short list that anyone draws up of potential Oscar nominees.
Oh, and another thought. Iron Man at my multiplex was preceded by a trailer for The Dark Knight. And if Heath Ledger's performance as the Joker is as good as these clips suggest — and my brain starts popping every time I see his deliriously committed, smeared-makeup personification of pure, nut-job Evilness — then we've got a potential Best Supporting Actor nominee that will be much more than just a sentimental gesture to a cherished, departed actor.
Iron Man and The Dark Knight as Oscar-worthy — think about it... seriously.
Last night's Oscar telecast was a most enjoyable affair. The acceptance speeches were short and heartfelt (I don't think I heard a single interminable list of names!), the clips packages were nifty, and host Jon Stewart was both funny and classy (recalling Markéta Irglová to the stage for her acceptance speech was the kind of unexpected treat that makes a three-and-a-half hour telecast entirely bearable).
On the other hand, the evening's low point had to be yet another shameless plug for Jerry Seinfeld's Bee Movie. Oh, how I hoped a giant flyswatter would come thwacking down when that overhyped black-and-yellow beast took his spot atop the Oscar podium. I mean, Bee Movie wasn't among the nominees for Best Animated Feature, so why didn't the Academy give eventual winner Ratatouille the "animated presenter" spot instead? Or even one of those surfing penguins? When I can't get a chuckle from reliving Matthew Broderick's painful Electionsting, then something is definitely rotten on the Oscar stage.
So who's going to join me in signing the PopWatch petition to stop the deadly swarm of promotion that Seinfeld is likely planning to prepare for March 11 DVD release? If you need some encouragement, then I've got three words for you: Bee. Movie. Juniors. Oh yeah, I went there!
As I sat last night in the auditorium of Manhattan's Symphony Space, laughing wildly at the stand-up routine that Daily Show correspondent John Oliver was taping for an upcoming Comedy Central special, one question kept nagging me: When exactly did he write all this side-splitting stuff? Could Oliver's barbs been penned...gasp...during the late writers' strike? So I breathed a sigh of relief when Oliver mentioned in passing that his material was actually written for him by a 10-year-old boy in Indonesia. "He lives and works at a factory," Oliver said of the presumably non-Guild scribe. "Works, mostly. He's a real worker." He then whipped out the child's "blood-spattered notebook" to share some more observational bits about "the man hitting me with a stick."
That's Oliver's style in a nutshell: viciously political, with a smirking meta edge (plus an excellent Oxbridge accent). Like Jon Stewart in his prime, he metes out caustic political judgments on topics like religion, war, colonialism, and global economics — barely bothering to act like he's kidding. Yet like Stephen Colbert, he'll also slip at times into an elaborately ironic persona, eviscerating right-wing excess by pretending to embrace it. At one point, he played an excerpt of President Bush's 2008 State of the Union address over Bette Midler's "Wind Beneath My Wings," kneeling in humble admiration. "What's your solution, Jon Stewart?" he shouted righteously.
Oliver was at his best last night when he was playing off of pre-recorded videos like that, or when he got to interact with special guest Andy Zaltzman. In other words, it all amounted to a 90-minute episode of The Daily Show or The Colbert Report as hosted by Oliver — one hell of an audition. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Comedy Central needs to give Oliver his own regular show, stat. (In the meantime, you can tune in to his stand-up special on the auspicious date of April 20.) Who's with me?
In these vexing times for the music industry, I guess it's not a surprise to discover a highly talented act that's getting shut out or ignored by the system. That doesn't make it any less frustrating. Take Hercules & Love Affair, a project masterminded by Brooklyn DJ Andy Butler. Hercules' fantastically catchy neo-disco has been painting the blogosphere red for months now, and it's been on permanent repeat on my iTunes lately. On March 10, a full-length debut will go on sale everywhere in the world — except in the U.S., where Hercules has yet to secure a distribution deal. C'mon, American record-biz people, I'm begging you! This state of Affairs is pathetic!
Luckily, there's plenty of awesome music from Hercules & Love Affair for you to explore online while I go sit in the corner and smack my head against the wall. For my money, the obvious standout is the lead single, "Blind," in which guest vocalist Antony Hegarty (of Antony & the Johnsons) is reborn as a dancefloor deity. It's a real revelation: Antony's rich, mournful
voice always works wonders on sad ballads, but I for one had no idea it'd sound this perfect over a driving, brassy beat. Check it out for yourself by playing the song's European video (below), a not-quite-NSFW orgiastic dream sequence straight out of a Fellini film or Kubrick's Eyes Wide Shut. And if you love "Blind" as much as I do, go ahead and use the comments section to pledge you'll buy Hercules & Love Affair's album when (or if) it's finally available at non-import prices!
Man, was I psyched to hear about Hayden Panettiere's next movie. Not because I have especially strong feelings about Panettiere's work. Not even because the Hollywood Reporter is hyping it as "an intellectual comedy a la Juno and Election," two movies that I enjoy very much. No, I'm jumping for joy because of the new flick's title: Daydream Nation.
Perhaps this merits additional explanation. As a major Sonic Youth fan, I can't read that title without hearing the opening chords of their 1988 masterpiece of the same name. Now, I was sorta bummed when I saw Juno's Juno lash out at Sonic Youth on screen, calling one of my favorite bands "just a lot of noise." I knew that writer Diablo Cody probably wasn't wholeheartedly endorsing Juno's spur-of-the-moment diss — and I'm big enough to admit that a random SY album plucked off a Best Buy shelf might strike the unprepared listener as an abrasive mess. (I think Thurston, Kim, and gang would proudly agree.) But the implication stood: In Juno's world, Sonic Youth is the kind of band that creepy midlife-crisis dudes rock out to in their terminally pathetic basements. Have we really reached the point where counterculture kids see Sonic Youth as music for old fogeys? There wouldn't be any bands to blog about if it weren't for Daydream Nation, for cryin' out loud! (On this point, if perhaps no other, I am in agreement with constitutionally cranky Chicago Sun-Times critic Jim DeRogatis.)
PopWatch wanted to pretend that we never read about Jessica Simpson's plans to release a country album in 2008, but news is so slow today that we're actually gonna discuss it.
Simpson recently told Billboard.com that, "I am a country girl. I grew up in Texas, and country music was what I listened to. I always wanted to make a country album, but I wanted to wait until the time was right." A couple thoughts:
1) Is the time "right" because her pop career has flatlined and her movie career will likely follow suit?
2) Country music fans typically don't take kindly to someone using their airwaves as a last resort. They need to believe you mean it. Speaking for myself: I accept Kid Rock because Hank Williams Jr. does. Jon Bon Jovi earned cred by dueting with Sugarland's Jennifer Nettles, and teaming for one of CMT's best Crossroads concerts. Kelly Clarkson is BFFs with her duet partner, Reba McEntire, and can sing the hell out of any Reba tune, and Reba knows it.
Jessica Simpson flubbing idol Dolly Parton's "9 to 5" at the taping of the 2006 Kennedy Center Honors just does not sound promising. And yes, Simpson is pals with Willie Nelson, but I saw Dukes of Hazzard, and it sucked so that connection is null and void.
Who— besides deejays wanting the opportunity to ogle Simpson in person—is eager to hear this album? And how can we stop it from happening?
Say you're hanging around in your office at, oh, 7:30 a.m., and you look up to notice that the one and only Mary J. Blige is like three feet away from you, going to town on her new jam "Just Fine" with a full band and a pair of sassy backup singers. What are you gonna do? Stand there silently and focus on your work? No way! If you're someone who I respect in any way as a human being, you're gonna groove at least a little tiny bit. NBC White House correspondent David Gregory certainly did when he found himself in this very situation during yesterday morning's Today Show:
And yet some curmudgeonly people are getting on Gregory's case! The Huffington Post is all, "David Gregory Sets White People Back 60 Years" and "Watch him bust an awkward and uncomfortable move." I beg to differ: The hands-in-the-air shimmying move that Gregory busted is nothing if not indubitably comfortable. The HuffPo crew also accuses Gregory of getting down to a Chris Brown tune last summer — which, of course, he did (check him out around 3:08) — as if they never so much as bobbed their head to "Run It"?!
Full disclosure: I might have a slight bias in this matter, as a dorky white journalist who will totally dance to some Mary J (or Chris Brown) given the opportunity. But I hereby call for a formal apology to David Gregory by anyone who slighted his spontaneous dancing. And I so hope that he finds a way to work those moves into the next White House press conference. Don't you, P-Dubs?
I need a castle, preferably someplace in Eastern Europe. Nice living quarters, natch. Central air is a must. But it absolutely needs a spiffy Frankensteinian electric rig in the attic — because I want to bring stuff back to life. (And I'd love it if said castle were in black and white. I'm a purist, what can I say?)
Specifically, I want to bring some long-dead TV shows back from the dead. But the electric mojo will only work on programs that were taken before their time, snuffed just as they were revealing their true potential. In a world where there's no TCA press tour because there aren't really gonna be any new shows, reaching into the abyss and yanking back some gems is a perfectly valid dream.
And, since it's my dream, here are the shows I want back:
Monday nights are meant for two things: Journeyman and crying.
Yes, Journeyman.
You know, the awesome show the whole world is ignoring, even though it's on right after Heroes. It doesn't make sense to me that people aren't tuning in each week to see how time-traveling reporter Dan Vassar (Kevin McKidd, pictured) is going to deal with his long-suffering wife (Gretchen Egolf), his job (which always seems to be on the line), his son (who likes his "magic trick"), his ex-fiancée (who we recently found out is also a decade-jumper and really lives/d in 1948), his prying brother (who's a cop), and what happens when you pull things back with you from the past (like money, wine, and guns). Did I mention that I cry at the end of practically every episode? What about the fact that the soundtrack adheres perfectly (and beautifully) to the years Dan "visits"? And that the show is absolutely nothing like Quantum Leap?!
Are you intrigued yet? You should be, despite the fact that NBC isn't showing Journeyman any love. The network just announced episode orders for Chuck and Life, but left our time-traveler out in the cold. And here I thought Life was just a board game. I'll be busted up if Journeyman gets canceled, but I'm used to early deaths for my cult favorites. I can only hope that if NBC scraps the show, they give it a fair ending, like the final episode of Surface. Mmmm...water and sea-creatures.
Tell me PopWatchers, should we start the petition on behalf of Journeyman right now? Or are there other shows whose fates concern you more?
It's been less than 48 hours since Robert Goulet shuffled off this mortal coil, and already the Associated Press is working overtime to honor his memory...by publishing a story about the fact that he might have possibly flubbed the lyrics to "The Star-Spangled Banner" when he performed it before Muhammad Ali and Sonny Liston's 1965 title fight.
Let me be the first to ask: Huh?! Was this really the best time to dig up some random, picayune pseudo-scandal from four decades ago? (Or, as the AP put it, "more than 30 years ago." Ahem.) Besides, the alleged mistakes — "dawn's early night" and "gave proof through the fight" — aren't exactly Borat-scale, as desecrations of the national anthem go. They're barely even Lupe-sized. And Goulet apparently denied that he screwed up those lines at all!
All in all, I gotta wonder who thought this non-news story was a good idea and what they were thinking. Any suggestions?
I'm not sure why, but I could not have been less enthusiastic when I first heard The CW had added a sitcom called Aliens in America to its fall slate. And my opinion didn't change much when I learned the show was about a quirky Midwestern family who welcomes a Pakistani Muslim exchange student into its home. But all that changed after I watched the show's pilot episode over the weekend. Where I was expecting crass, thudding setups and borderline offensive punch lines, I instead found smart, subtle humor and terrific performances, including Caroline in the City's Amy Pietz as the family's paranoid (but thankfully not one-dimensional) mom. And I'm not the only one who likes it; the show is an official "EW Pick" in our Fall TV Preview (currently on newsstands).
Anyhow, check out a sneak peek of the show for yourself, after the jump, although I must warn you that the delightful Patrick Breen has apparently been replaced by Gilmore Girls vet Scott Patterson in the role of the family patriarch. The other bad news is that Aliens airs Mondays at 8:30, opposite my other new crush, NBC's Chuck. But that's why God created DVRs, no? What I'm trying to say is, don't let Aliens in America go the way of Aliens in the Family. In other words, ch-ch-check it out!
As someone who hate-hate-hated the fact that Carrie ended up with Mr. Big in the series finale of Sex and the City, you'd probably think I'd be thrilled by the joke/rumor leaked by Chris Noth (pictured, with Sarah Jessica Parker) to New York magazine that his character dies of a heart attack in the proposed opening scene of the SATC movie. But quite the contrary, I feel like Big's death would let Carrie off the hook way too easily, giving her freedom from a man who's totally wrong for her — without allowing her to make the brave choice to kick him to the curb once and for all.
In my mind, the brilliance of Sex and the City (at least up until its final episode) was that it celebrated women's singledom as a viable — even desirable — choice in a world where we're constantly told the only happy ending for a princess (whether she's British, animated, or played by Drew Barrymore) is to climb into some dude's horse-drawn carriage and ride off into the sunset. And no episode showcased SATC's philosophy better than "A Woman's Right to Shoes," in which Carrie's designer heels get pilfered at the new-baby party of a self-absorbed pal (brilliantly played by Tatum O'Neal). I can still remember wanting to stand up and cheer after Sarah Jessica Parker delivered her rousing little phone message: "Hi! It's Carrie Bradshaw. I wanted to let you know that I'm getting married. To myself. Oh, and I'm registered at Manolo Blahnik. So thanks. Bye!"
When SATC finally hits the big screen, I'm hoping the film's opening scene finds Carrie giving Big a peck on the cheek, and saying something like, "Hey, we had some great times. Best of luck to you," before she strides down Madison Avenue for some further adventures in love and shopping. Are you with me, or do you side with the scads of SATC fans who feel like Carrie would be more likely to swear off Tasti D-Lite than gave up Mr. Big? Check out a must-see YouTube excerpt after the jump, then state your position in the comments section below.
So this Orlando Sentinel story that Nicollette Sheridan is slated to make an "amazing" appearance on the season premiere of Desperate Housewives gave me an idea: Wouldn't it be awesome if Edie — who appeared to take her own life in the third-season finale — returned as the show's new narrator? You've got to admit, anything would be better than another 22 episodes of Brenda Strong's sing-songy Mary Alice voice-overs, which are always my cue to tune out and begin a raging internal debate about whether or not I deserve a Sunday-night, post-dinner snack. "Sooo-san Myyyyy-er had a problem…" NO!
Seriously, though, imagine those narrations with a little sass, and an actual point of view. The fact that Edie has a prickly relationship with almost every resident of Wisteria Lane would allow her to go where Mary Alice dare not tread — poking fun at Susan's romantic follies, Lynette's heinous children, and Bree's obsession with perfection. After all, nobody likes a holier-than-thou gossip. If you're with me, then lobby for Edie as narrator in the comments section below. And if you're not, then perhaps you could school me as to why I am wrong.
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Seven days ago, I asked the cosmos to grant me my wish of hearing a mash-up of the new singles from Kanye West and Radiohead (both artists are allowing fans to remix their master recordings). And lo, something like six hours later, somebody going by the name of DJ Earworm posted up a remix that met the criteria in the comments section. Since I am a blogger of my word, and I promised the first person who met my challenge a shout-out, here it is: Congrats to DJ Earworm, the first and only remixer to respond to my request, and good looks on the speed! Now, I'm not one to talk — you should hear (or rather, you shouldn't hear) the fiasco that resulted when I attempted to meet my own challenge in GarageBand over the weekend — but I did notice that Earworm's first attempt was a little rough. So I was pleased when he or she returned a few days later and posted a new, improved remix which integrated the two tracks much more smoothly. Hear DJ Earworm's final submission here. Dope! This is something I could really see entering rotation in my iTunes. I don't know much (or anything) about Earworm's other work, but he or she's got skills, don't you think?
Radiohead has set up 
Brooks & Dunn have a nifty hit single out now called “Put a Girl in it,” and I only wish the country music industry would take that advice more often. I thought about it as the 
I'd been blissfully unaware of Nicolas Cage's new release, Bangkok Dangerous, until this morning, when I was optically assaulted by the photo of him accompanying Josh Rich's 
Back in 2005, when EW listed 
I went to see Iron Man this weekend, and liked it a lot more than I expected. One big reason? It didn't have just laughs and comic-geek thrills, but real, first-rate, non-F/X... acting! When Robert Downey Jr. as Tony Stark, pulls Gwyneth Paltrow's Pepper Potts out onto the dancefloor for a little dipping and cooing, the rom-com byplay is superb. 
Last night's Oscar telecast was a most enjoyable affair. The acceptance speeches were short and heartfelt (I don't think I heard a single interminable list of names!), the clips packages were nifty, and host Jon Stewart was both funny and classy (
As I sat last night in the auditorium of Manhattan's Symphony Space, laughing wildly at the stand-up routine that Daily Show correspondent John Oliver was taping for an upcoming Comedy Central special, one question kept nagging me: When exactly did he write all this side-splitting stuff? Could Oliver's barbs been penned...gasp...during the late writers' strike? So I breathed a sigh of relief when Oliver mentioned in passing that his material was actually written for him by a 10-year-old boy in Indonesia. "He lives and works at a factory," Oliver said of the presumably non-Guild scribe. "Works, mostly. He's a real worker." He then whipped out the child's "blood-spattered notebook" to share some more observational bits about "the man hitting me with a stick."
Man, was I psyched to hear about 
PopWatch wanted to pretend that we never read about Jessica Simpson's 
Monday nights are meant for two things: 
It's been less than 48 hours since Robert Goulet shuffled off this mortal coil, and already the Associated Press is working overtime to honor his memory...by publishing 
I'm not sure why, but I could not have been less enthusiastic when I first heard The CW had added a sitcom called Aliens in America to its fall slate. And my opinion didn't change much when I learned the show was about a quirky Midwestern family who welcomes a Pakistani Muslim exchange student into its home. But all that changed after I watched the show's pilot episode over the weekend. Where I was expecting crass, thudding setups and borderline offensive punch lines, I instead found smart, subtle humor and terrific performances, including Caroline in the City's Amy Pietz as the family's paranoid (but thankfully not one-dimensional) mom. And I'm not the only one who likes it; the show is an official "EW Pick" in our Fall TV Preview (currently on newsstands). 
As someone who hate-hate-hated the fact that Carrie ended up with Mr. Big in the series finale of Sex and the City, you'd probably think I'd be thrilled by the 
So 
