I forgot Kershner also directed Loving, one of the more obscure great dark George Segal comedies from back when those were a thing. One of those films I only know about from reading Pauline Kael, I think I saw it on TCM and it’s definitely worth keeping an eye out for.
“[Prince] doesn’t want us to react to a performance - he wants us to react to him, to his greatness. …[He] wants to overwhelm us. He’s trying to shortcut his way to artistic heights by a show of naked self-expression. (You see a lot of this in the work of the rock stars, such as Bruce Springsteen, that the rock press takes the most seriously.)”—Pauline Kael, reviewing Purple Rain.
Jason DeRulo, “What If” While anyone would want to turn back time if their girlfriend was hit by a car right before they were going to propose, I’m guessing Jason DeRulo is the only person who would go so far back that they never even date (did he decide emotional commitment was a fool’s game?). Best closing bit of dialogue I’ve seen in a video since forever.
Big Time Rush, “Til I Forget About You” I assumed these dipshits were an autotuned attempt to capture the appeal of fratboy a capella groups, but Wikipedia reveals they’re actually the stars of some nu-Monkees Nickelodeon show about a wanna-be boy band.
I’m watching VH1 Classic and they’re showing a clip of Robert Smith of the Cure and Robbie Williams singing Robbie’s swing number “Don’t Spend Your Cash On Me” together on a UK dancing contest show, backed by Smith’s reconstituted The Top line-up (Lol, Phil Thornalley, Andy Anderson) and a massive salsa orchestra not unlike the one found in the Cure’s “The 13th” video (the song, WHICH DOES NOT ACTUALLY EXIST - I googled to make sure - also resembled “The 13th”). Everyone’s wearing white suits, the aging Cure members look confused in their close-ups, Smith is really moving around the stage with his mic, diving in and out from behind the feather bearing chorus girls, hoofing up and down the stage steps, while Williams ironically keeps to a perch near the band.
I’ve had dreams that were more dramatic, more profound, more of a worthwhile message from the depths of my subconscious. But as far as dreams where my brain puts on a show I never had the slightest clue I wanted to see go…A+, brain, A+.
Two Things That Are Driving Me Crazy About The Harry Potter Movies
Why did everyone freak out so hard on RPattz dying in that triathlon he was taking part in when it was chock-full of life-threatening shit? When that girl failed the swimming part, Harry had to rescue her pal for her; there didn’t appear to be many safety nets or contingency plans to protect the participants (or their poor friends who were kidnapped and left at the bottom of the ocean!). I thought the whole point was that the contest was risky business.
THE EVILEST DUDE EVER IS FLOATING AROUND WANTING TO KILL THEM ALL! HOW CAN THEY KEEP GOING ON SUMMER VACAY!?!?!?!?! EVEN AFTER HARRY AND HIS COUSIN WERE ATTACKED IN MUGGLESVILLE???!!!! HOW DANGEROUS CAN LORD VALDY BE IF WE ONLY HAVE CLIMACTIC DRAMAS WITH HIM ONCE A YEAR, RIGHT BEFORE FINALS??? “I’ll get you next semester, Potter! Next semesterrrrrrr!!!!!”
Considering I just finished Order Of The Phoenix (the deal is for every Potter entry I see, Leila will see a horror movie, though we’re pushing through the HPs so we can see Deathly Hallows in theaters), it’s kind of impressive I can only think of two biggies so far. Killing Sirius might be another, though - watching Gary Oldman, David Thewlis and (especially) Alan Rickman play sweet, avuncular roles is the most enjoyable thing about these movies.
In order to get my mother-in-law a requested copy of his cover of “Can’t Help Falling In Love” (ain’t I swell?), I recently downloaded Bob Dylan’s infamous 1973 record Dylan, a hodge-podge of outtakes from his least popular album at the time (Self-Portrait), released out of spite by Columbia when he dared to (briefly) sign with another label. It’s pretty unlistenable - schmaltzy, over-arranged renditions of chestnuts like “Big Yellow Taxi” and “Mr. Bojangles” - but the closing number, “Spanish Is The Loving Tongue,” takes the cake. That’s really him.