Sarah Silverman and Matt Damon
She’s frequently annoying and Matt is a god. Good pair? You decide.
She’s frequently annoying and Matt is a god. Good pair? You decide.
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Earlier this week, the Indian government was having a tough time figuring out the correct protocol of dealing with a visiting head of state’s girlfriend. French president Nicolas Sarkozy was coming to town and the rumor had it that he was bringing his new found love, former supermodel, Carla Bruni. One moment she was coming, the next, not. And now apparently she is going but separately. This is less troublesome but still a spot of bother for the protocol keepers as the couple are planning to visit that old monument of love, the Taj Mahal.
The global media has been all over the Sarkozy-Bruni romance as it’s not often that we get to see heads of state in the same predicament as a Hilton or Spears (please, I beg you, let’s leave Bill Clinton out of this). Even the bastions of serious journalism, The New York Times, The BBC, and horror of horrors, The Wall Street Journal (Rupert Murdoch is already showing his true colors at the newspaper) had lengthy articles on the relationship.
Bruni is quite familiar with this sort of attention having dated a who’s who of bad boys (Eric Clapton, Sir Mick Jagger, Vincent Perez, and even Kevin Costner). She retired from a lucrative modeling career (apparently she appeared in around 250 magazine covers) at the age of 30 and is now trying her hand at singing when she’s not visiting ancient monuments with Sarkozy. Lovers of French cinema will probably know that Bruni is the sister of noted French actress, Valeria Bruni-Tedeschi. Today, the Journal even compared her to Norah Jones. Curious, I dug up a video of the woman singing on youtube and I have to admit, I am impressed (see below). Too bad the Sarkozy tie might actually hurt her singing career. Though, let’s hope not.
As the reality TV season gets well underway with new Sanjayas in American Idol and the tired antics of a bald billionaire in The Apprentice, there is a new kid in town. It’s called American Gladiators and I happened upon it while flipping channels the other day. The show is a revival of a not so hot show from the early 90s. It pits contestants against each other (two at a time - separate rounds for men and women) in a hard competition of strength and agility. En route, they have to also overcome the show’s real stars, the “gladiators.” The new (actually on its second season) show seems to be a big hit according to Nielsen despite (or maybe because of) its obvious cheesiness. The lovely Laila Ali (Muhammad’s offspring) and the hulking Hogan play genial hosts.
The show might be yawn inducing for the reality TV deniers (you know who you are). But I was hooked enough to watch a couple of episodes though not enough to Tivo the show. It’s not the competition or the contestants that intrigued me but the gladiators with exotic names concealing their real personae. With names like Wolf, Justice, Hellga, Mayhem, they try to stop the hapless contestants from completing their tasks. Among them stands out 25 year old Gina Carano aka Crush. She’s a Muay Thai fighter and will be equally at ease at the Playboy Mansion or an Ultimate Fighting event. The word kickass best describes this superwoman. The cheers are loudest when she faces a contestant on the show. One of the audience-held signs on a recent show declared a crush on Crush. It’s not too hard to feel a crush yourself.
As you have definitely heard by now, the man who made opera accessible to the masses, Luciano Pavarotti, died today morning in Italy. With his passing, we lost a larger than life legend. I have never been much into opera and (unfortunately) never been to a performance but I do have a few CDs of Pavarotti (notably his “Three Tenors” series with Placido Domingo and Jose Carreras).
The ever reliable Youtube obviously has many performances by Pavarotti for me to embed here but this one strikes me as particularly awe-inspiring… it’s a duet with the late great James Brown singing Brown’s “It’s a Man’s World.” May both men rest in peace.
Watch the wife clapping like the stuck-up Brit that she is.
Say what you’ll about the ’80s, it did spawn a few badass super cops in movies taking off from where Dirty Harry left off. Among them were Mel “I hate Jews” Gibson as Riggs in the Lethal Weapon franchise and Bruce Willis as John McClane in the Die Hard franchise. I previously talked about this year being a year of sequels in Hollywood and I especially mocked Willis for doing another Die Hard. He was always my favorite of the action superstars of the ’80s (others being Stallone, the Governator, Seagal, and Van Damme - let’s ignore the older Eastwood and Harrison Ford for now) but even so, I thought he shouldn’t have returned for yet another installment of this franchise. I am happy to say that I was wrong. A bruised and battered Bruce is back with a vengeance in the role that made him a superstar. And he’s looking good.
This is not a movie for who Hitchcock once referred to as “The Plausibles” — you know who you are. This is an old fashioned action movie with limited computer generated effects and some real Hong Kong style action (pre-”Crouching Tiger,” I mean). This is the best movie since the original. The plot is so ridiculous that it enhances the movie rather than diminish it. The chemistry between Willis and Justin Long (he’s the Mac in the famous Mac vs PC ads) is fun and we have a menacing villain in the form of the stunning Maggie Q. In my opinion, she should have been the main villain rather than the girlfriend slash henchperson of the real villain, played by Timothy Olyphant. The story line is not important; suffice it to say that none of it makes sense but you are in for a treat if you leave your brains in the lobby and go to enjoy some kickass stunts and things being blown apart. The cast also includes Kevin Smith (the director of movies like “Clerks”) and Cyril Raffaelli (the French stuntman who was responsible for the incredible French movie, “District B13“). As for Willis, he is at his minimalist best not seen since “The Sixth Sense.”
It’s good to have Bruce Willis back. Demi who?
Wolfman believes Paris Hilton was born to be wild. And free.
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Even if you won’t admit that you watch “American Idol” like 35 million other Americans, you must have still heard of the cult phenomenon who is Sanjaya Malakar. The 17 year old hula dancing, shaggy haired, half Indian, half Italian, effeminate dude who will single-handedly bring down the show if he wins it. A few weeks ago, such an eventuality would have been scoffed at (Simon Cowell famously quipped that he won’t be back if Sanjaya wins Idol this season) but now it’s not looking that unrealistic. He’s the underdog that has become a strong wild horse and not because he’s a fantastic belter of songs… far from it.
Due to the efforts of his many tween fans, Howard Stern, and the web site votefortheworst.com the erstwhile shy teenager has beat all odds to make it to the top 9. On the other side of the coin, this Darwin award potential is on a hunger strike till Sanjaya gets booted off. Of late, he has become emboldened and seems almost carefree while on stage. From causing young girls to bawl uncontrollably (original here; SNL spoof here) to confounding the judges, Sanjaya has brought life to an otherwise boring season. While he is no Frank Sinatra, I don’t think he’s William Hung either. He’s definitely better than your average Karaoke singer. And no matter what Simon Cowell thinks, Idol is not just a singing competition. It’s about the whole package.
I have never voted for a contestant on Idol before but I think this year, I am going to join Stern and the purveyors of votefortheworst.com and start calling in my votes for Sanjaya.
A whole new vocabulary has sprung around Sanjaya now: if you are his fan, you are a fanjaya; if you are his mom, you are momjaya; if you start copying his wacko hairstyles, then you have been sanjaya-ed; and now, if you are a supporter of him on rantlust, you are a rantjaya.
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