July's Book of the Month

I love books. They're fun, educational, and occasionally you'll find $20 in them.

(This actually happened to me when I checked out Prep from the local library. Ah, that was a good day.)

I'll admit that I had reservations about The Chris Farley Show, namely that it was co-written by his older brother, Tom Farley Jr. How objective can a biography be if your brother is one of the authors?

But I picked up an advanced reader's copy at work and plowed through it in about three days. I then lent it to my brother, the comedy writer, who loved it. The reason is that it paints the portrait of a ferociously talented comedian whose love of excess and need for acceptance fed a fatal drug addiction. Farley Jr. and writer Tanner Colby don't hold back, showing in painful detail how Farley never got back on track. It's a tragic, relentlessly readable character study disguised as a celebrity biography.

The neat part of this oral biography is that while the authors don't sugar coat Farley's problems, they show what a decent human being he was as well as his evolution as a comedian. Reading the book, I was hopelessly rooting for Farley to find some salvation. The book's 150 interviews with childhood friends, family members, and loads of SNL alum (David Spade, Lorne Michaels, Tim Meadows) help immeasurably in painting that portrait.

Simply put, this is one of the best biographies I've read in recent years. Another book is coming in August, folks. Get your reading glasses ready.

Mistakes and Oversights, Negotiations & Love Songs

Hey, everybody. Sorry it's been such a long time between posts but it's been really busy in this neck of the woods. July is the time of weddings, birthdays, and other joyous happenings that require me to spend big. "Congratulations on your nuptials, Brenda. Enjoy your $20.00 gift certificate to the Ground Round."

I've been doing this blog for a few months, so I figured it's time to see where I went wrong. I know newspapers and magazines hire an ombudsman for this kind of thing, but I can barely afford a Metrocard, so it's all me. Two mistakes come to mind.

*In my review of Maid of Honor I made the point that a scene where Michele Monaghan tries on lingerie for best friend Patrick Dempsey was based in no kind of reality. In making that point, my brother Dave, suggested that it sounded like I had never kissed a girl.

I assure you that I have. A list of references is available upon request.

*In the June 18 blog posting, I referred to Jancee Dunn's husband as Tom Newmark. It's actually Tom Vanderbilt. WIW apologizes for the error, especially since Ms. Dunn has been nothing but super nice to us.

One of the reasons for the delay on the blog, is that I just finished transcribing Jancee's interview, which wound up at around 3,500 words. Yikes. By the way, the interview will be posted very soon. By the way, please by her new book, Don't You Forget About Me. It's great.

*In mid-June, Pete Croatto, the writer of WIW, bought a medium coffee and everything bagle on a packed 4 train in New York City. This isn't related to film in any way, but we just thought you'd enjoy the image of Mr. Croatto's breakfast balancing act. What a maroon!

As for what's coming up in future weeks:

--The July book of the month!

--Reviews, reviews, reviews!

--An amusing encounter at the Sony screening room!

--And much, much more!

Jancee Dunn Responds to Her Miniscule Literary Honor

On Saturday, I interviewed writer and New Jersey native Jancee Dunn for Primetime A&E. Jancee was a dream interview--candid, funny, and without an ounce of pretension. In case you're curious, the interview, which ties into the release of her new novel, should run in August and will also appear on this blog.

Before I fired away on my questions, we chatted for about 10 minutes. (I had interviewed her for mediabistro.com last year, and we've kept in touch.) I mentioned, almost as a joke, that I featured her memoir But Enough About Me as the blog's book of the month for June.

I thought I'd get a pleasant, "Gee, thanks, an honor on a blog no one reads" or "Very cool, now can we get this started?" I don't use the phrase "over the moon" very often, but Jancee's reaction was just that. You would have thought I told her she had won a Pultizer Prize covered in milk chocolate. And the cool part was, the reaction was completely genuine. She was touched.

As for her new book, the debut novel Don't You Forget About Me? It's first-rate, plow through the fatigue readable fiction. You can buy it in stores July 29, the same day her husband Tom Newmark's book (Traffic Signals) is released.

"I'm Picking Up on Your Sarcasm..."

As a veteran of the service industry, I know how much these jobs suck. Trust me. I've worked at four bookstores and one movie theater. The pay is awful, the hours are as inconsistent as the weather (oh, the joy of working a closing shift and then opening the next day), and you never know what situation you'll encounter.

Examples: As a cashier at a multiplex, I had the honor of giving my 10th grade crush a ticket while dressed in my nerd uniform of sweater vest and clip-on tie. When I worked at Borders--a job I loved, by the way--a customer once threatened to "take it outside" after I allegedly bumped into him. The latter scenario didn't become a scene from Road House.

However, the key to surviving a job like this is to have a good attitude. I know it sounds cliche, but it's the truth. When customers are given the impression that the person helping them is competent and can speak in complete sentences, interactions go smoothly 90 percent of the time. The other 10 percent leads to some terrific stories.

This brings me to last Sunday. I went to a 10 a.m. screening of The Happening. It wasn't because I needed to see the movie right away, but because the AMC in my area offers $6.00 tickets for late morning shows.

The theater had two guys working the ticket desks, both very professional and polished, a shock considering the early hour. However, the ticket taker was another story entirely. I went up to him, gave my ticket. He asked how I was, and I asked him. The reply: "Just fantastic," in a voice so rich in sarcasm, you could hear the drops falling on the floor.

I was stunned into silence. Look, I'm not asking for a handshake and a cold drink, but c'mon, man. Don't talk to me like an asshole. First, I'm making an effort to be nice, so I shouldn't be shot down for it. Second, how do you know that I won't beat the absolute snot out of you, or the next guy you decide to take that attitude with? (God forbid he tried that with my Dad. Remember Alec Baldwin verbally intimidating the real estate agents in Glengarry Glen Ross? Multiply that by five.)

Honestly, the next time this happens, I'll probably say something like, "Well, that's great, young man. If you don't mind, I'm going to see this movie, get paid for it, and pursue my dream. Meanwhile, I hope you enjoy standing for hours on end in your little costume while girls laugh at you and your resentment for your life and the people in it builds. Good luck on Monday's calc test, by the way."

Eh, maybe not. It would take too long and I'd probably miss the previews.

Review of Charlie Bartlett

At the end of the month, I plan to do a mid-year report of what I've seen so far. There's an excellent chance this makes my "low five."

This review was originally published in Home Media Magazine. Many thanks to my editor John Latchem for making it the lead review of the week. Very cool, indeed.

By the way, happy birthday, Dave.

Charlie Bartlett grossed only about $4 million when it was released in January, but sometimes quirky high-school movies take a while to find their audience. Witness Dazed and Confused and Donnie Darko.

Those movies, however, brimmed with originality.

The same cannot be said of Charlie Bartlett. After he’s thrown out of another prep school, scheming teen Charlie (Yelchin of Alpha Dog and the upcoming Star Trek revival film) heads to public high school. Starved for popularity, he achieves it by giving advice and drugs as a makeshift psychiatrist, using the boys bathroom as his office and the school bully (Hilton of Walk the Line) as his pharmacist. Charlie makes a difference while making the moves on his principal’s daughter (Dennings of The 40-Year-Old Virgin).

Despite the presence of pros Davis (Charlie’s loopy mom) and Downey Jr. (Charlie’s boozy principal nemesis), Charlie Bartlett is a lazy compilation of teen movie greatest hits, from the clique smashing of The Breakfast Club to the scheming entrepreneurship of Risky Business. The movie features an annoying lead character who solves problems by doling out pop psychology and treats adults as short-sighted buffoons. It is crammed with contrived problems and easy solutions.

Teens should relate to the movie’s positive attitude and adult hijinks, if they haven’t seen any teen comedies released in the past 25 years.

The DVD extras add little to the experience. The commentary with first-time director Jon Poll and writer Gustin Nash contains some interesting behind-the-scenes tidbits: Nash’s script was originally darker; Poll got to select Dennings’ nail polish from 35 colors. The other pointless commentary featuring Poll, Yelchin, and Dennings consists primarily of the young actors swooning over their co-stars and giggling. The DVD also has a music video from Spiral Beach and lame “Bathroom Confessionals” from the cast and crew.

Ahh... Anne Hathaway

Get Smart opens this Friday, and I'm excited to see it if only because it gives Anne Hathaway ample screen time. Why do I like her so much? First, look at her. Second, and more importantly, she can act. My column from The Ellenville Journal, written after seeing Hathaway in Becoming Jane, explains it all.

Last time, I expressed my objection over recent GQ cover stories on Jessica Alba and Jessica Biel, two actresses with more physical talent than acting chops. In the process, I offered a redefinition of the sex symbol. Looks counted, of course, but the person had to have acting ability.

I even included a list of candidates. For reasons that escape me, Anne Hathaway was not on that list. That’s my mistake, because after seeing her in Becoming Jane (opening nationwide this Friday), she fits the new definition perfectly.

The movie stars Hathaway as a young Jane Austen (circa 1795) before she became a literary titan. Independent, feisty, and steadfast in her belief to marry out of love, not financial comfort, Austen begins a lengthy, fruitful flirtation with rogue Irish lawyer Tom Lefroy (James McAvoy, The Last King of Scotland). Even if you’d rather read a car manual in Hebrew than plow through Austen’s novels, Becoming Jane isn’t stuffy and doesn’t require a major effort to follow. Its light, lyrical tone, complete with a welcome cynical bite, makes it a perfect remedy for those groggy from summer blockbuster excess. And there are worse choices for a date movie.

For the movie’s romantic charm to work, the acting has to be first-rate, which it is. Hathaway has the most glamorous, but toughest role. Austen is alternately luminous, principled, and cheeky. She’s a whip-smart 20-year-old who hasn’t been molded by the forces that turn young men and women into adults; she’s still brimming with idealism. And when Austen meets Lefroy, she’s forced to test those ideals in the real world.

Hathaway nails the role, transitioning between each emotion with ease and without announcing these shifts, something a lesser actress couldn’t do. Her English accent, perfect by the way, isn’t thrown in the audience’s face. She gives a terrific performance, understated and satisfying, and one that keeps you involved in the story without focusing on the actress playing the role.

Jane Austen is the latest in a recent line of adult roles for Hathaway, including solid work in Brokeback Mountain and The Devil Wears Prada. Becoming Jane is the first of these performances where she has to carry the load, where there are no distractions. Brokeback Mountain had a controversial concept, a topless Hathaway (kind of jarring considering her Princess Diaries past), and a terrific cast. In Prada, she took a back seat to the boss-from-hell concept and the presence of Meryl Streep. Now, it’s official: Hathaway is on her own and she’s the real thing.

Just Call Me "Scoop"

Thought you all might be curious about some recent non-movie related articles I've written. Below are links to two recent works that are dear to my heart.

The first link is an article I wrote for TCNJ Magazine on alums involved in the television industry. It was a lot of fun to write, and the people couldn't have been nicer. Plus, guess who got a snazzy bio and photo?

Go to: http://www.tcnjmagazine.com/?p=293

The second link is to an article I wrote for Deadspin.com, the great sports blog edited by Will Leitch. Will, who's leaving soon to take an editor's job at New York, let me write a piece on whether there can be a vegetarian home run hitter. I loved writing and researching it, and I'm thrilled it's on a site with 10 millions hits a month.

http://deadspin.com/5016228/so-is-vegetarianism-really-hurting-prince-fielder

Some of the comments are pretty funny, and I get razzed! It's like having dinner with the family all over again.