A Moment Like This

*Spoilers*

Damn you American Idol! You are costing me money AND turning me into a blubbering idiot.

When American Idol announced that people could download performances on Itunes, I thought, "What idiot would do that when you can watch it on the internet for free?" Um, apparently, this one. When David Archuleta performed "Imagine", not only did I buy it for my Ipod but I am completely horrified that I like this dorky kid that seems more destined for Disney than rock star greatness. Who AM I?

But what can you expect from someone who actually owns MORE THAN ONE Vonda Shephard CD.

Now, if that little young thing David made me misty, well then seeing Alaina Whitaker get kicked off turned the waterworks full throttle. See, if you don't watch AI, they kick you off, then cruelly make "new loser you" sing. And you think to yourself, "how do they do this? How come they don't like throw up?" but they always bust it out.

Instead, Alaina did what I would do - froze up, then burst into tears and declared "I can't sing!" And those producers milked that moment perfectly, cutting to every teary-eyed person in the room. Cue the Paula pep talk, more tears, and then the non-loser girls gathered round to help her out and she, of course, in live-tv-gold fashion, sang her little heart out.

Which is why Alaina Whitaker is was on American Idol...and I am not.

PS. On a lighter note, Simon quote of the week: "Last week was boring. This week was awkward and ordinary". I will surely be stealing this to describe future bad dates.

Dreamboat

So I know you're trying to forget the most boring telecast in history, the Oscars, but I couldn't let this go unsaid.





When I saw Colin Farrell on the red carpet, I was immediately transported to another time. Did anyone else take one look at the (sudden?) patch of gray in his hair and get reminded of that girl in Nightmare on Elm St??? Remember? She's so tortured and aged by her nightmares that overnight she awakens with a gray streak in her hair?

Come to think of it, they kind of look alike. Especially in the eyebrows.

Anyway, getting old just sucks. Poor Colin. Remember the good 'ol days when he was squiring around Britney Spears and they were both hot and not a punchline? Sigh.


And yes, of course as soon as I thought of this I had to IMDB Heather Langenkamp (aka the girl from Nightmare on Elm St.) and no, she's not up to much...except somehow I missed (or maybe I forgot) that she played Nancy Kerrigan in possibly the most serendipitous case of pure look-alike-ness landing someone a part since Christine Taylor landed the role of Marcia Brady.

Mysteries of Happy Days

There is a Happy Days coverup going on, and I'm here to expose it.

The Today Show is running a series this week getting together casts of old shows and kicked it off with most of the cast from Happy Days. I have no idea why Scott Baio was not a part of it, especially since he was on Regis & Kelly an hour later. A booking error... or a conspiracy to have every channel become ALL HAPPY DAYS, ALL THE TIME? You decide!

Just kidding, this is not the mystery.

And no, I'm not talking about Chuck.

Everyone who ever talks about the end of Happy Days refers to the Joanie & Chachi wedding, topped off with Mr. C's final farewell. That certainly does SEEM LIKE the logical last episode. Hell, I even posted this clip just the other day.

But it's lies! All lies! There were FIVE more episodes after that 'finale'. This campaign of misinformation must stop NOW. Am I the ONLY ONE who remembers the episode that was a thinly veiled ripoff of the Stephen King movie, "Christine"? Fonzie with the old '55 Chevy? C'mon, people, I know you saw it. Now, it's not a classic (talking about the episode, not the car) like, say, when Fonzie goes blind or meets Mork, but it's out there and it was AFTER that damn Joanie loves Chachi wedding. Ayyyyyyyyyyyyy!

I mean, annnnnnnyway, I'll tell you something that is NOT a mystery. Poor, poor Erin Moran. Little Joanie wants so badly to be famous again it's hearbreaking. Every time that girl is ever on camera, she just says over and over again "I loooooooved it" about her time on Happy Days, like if she keeps saying it over and over, someone will let her play Joanie again. She's definitely pissed those Brady bitches got that variety show.

Well, her prayers have been answered...sort of. Sources tell me she's headed to Celebrity Fit Club on VH1. Now, I don't think she actually needs to lose weight but if it got her mug on tv....well, let's just say she's probably at Arnold's RIGHT NOW downing some cheeseburgers....

I Don't See Dead People

"There Will Be Blood": title for an award winning movie or the thought that women around the world would have about the prospect of meeting George Clooney's girlfriend in a dark alley? Discuss.












I wanted Julie Christie to win but I'm sorta glad that French chick won for Splash La Vie en Rose only because, well, upsets are fun.















Katherine Heigl's tool-ness grows exponentially every time I hear her speak. She was a presenter and announced that we should forgive her because she was 'really nervous'. Um, relax you phony, there are no Oscars in your future for "27 Dresses".


So my pet peeve with the dead people montage THIS YEAR had to be the music choice. Did they really need to build to a triumphant crescendo on Heath Ledger? I'm not sure what was more inappropriate: that or the glaring omissions. What was worse was that they put DATES after the In Memoriam (do they usually do this?) as if to say, "If you inconveniently die after our Jan 31st deadline, ROY SCHEIDER, we are NOT gonna re-edit this montage for you." This gets them off the hook for Roy, but Brad Renfro totally made the dead people deadline so I'm not sure what's up.

Memo to producers for next year: double check the obits and stick to the somber Forrest Gump theme for your montages. No need to get creative when it comes to the dead.

Go Diablo Cody...from Blogger to Oscar winner!

Can't Help Falling in Love

I wanted to send you all a snarky recap of the American Idol results show, but let's be honest: I fast forwarded to see who got voted off and the subsequent sappy going home video.

It's when that video came on that the trouble started.

You see, I am what you might call a music marketer's dream. You can pretty much put any angsty TV couple or general TV tale of woe to music and I am going to find that song and buy it on Itunes within 30 minutes...as in faster than the delivery time of Domino's Pizza.

(Ok, even I don't really eat Domino's Pizza, but you get the gist:
Heart-on-her-sleeve sap + music montages on TV=BIG BUCKS for Itunes)


Ross and Rachel do it at the museum!
Wicked Game by Chris Isaak

Click.








Izzy's fiancé dies/Will Meredith choose Derek or Finn?
Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol

Click.





Joanie freaking marries Chachi.
Can't Help Falling In Love by Elvis;
Memories by...well duh, still Elvis

Click.
Click.



And so I'm sorry. No snark. No recap. I'm busy re-watching the going home montage...which is set to Best Days by Graham Colton.

Click.

Who's Watching the Kids?

Ok, I promise I won't rant about this every time I talk about American Idol but I have, like, a full time job and FIVE hours a week for one show? That sure is A LOT to ask for a show that in no way shape or form includes George Clooney.

I'm just sayin'...how do you people find the time?

Ok, on with the show. Girls Night.

I still think that nanny, Brooke White, is going far in this competition. She elicited the biggest response from ME, anyway, and it's mainly because when I look at her I can't help but think all of these things...in no particular order:
-She (or at least her hair) looks suspiciously like the model that's on the box of some crimping/curling iron thing I used to do my hair for my semi-formal in 1987.
-She is going to milk this "I'm an innocent nanny" thing [not so hidden subtext: I'll turn naughty for you] for as long as she can.
-Are the twins she's supposed to be nannying in day care now?
-Is nannying a word?
-Will Ethan Hawke and Jude Law vote for her?

Other random thoughts:

Isn't Alaina Whitaker & Carrie Underwood the same person?





Though I liked her initially, based on Wednesday's performance, that girl (Kristy Lee Cook) that sold her horse to get to Hollywood might need it to get home.

Oh well. Giddyup! It's Thursday and time for LOST.

Boys Will Be Boys

I'm trying to get into American Idol this season. Really, I am. Unfortunately, my commitment tends to mimic my gym-going habits: I start out strong, but eventually my attention wanes and I blow it off. This freaking thing is on THREE times this week? I promise you that's more times then I will do cardio. So, I guess the moral to the story is...ok there is no moral, but a few months from now I'll be fat with no new music.

Anyhoo, I'm giving it a shot, and I watched the boy's (men's?) night on Tuesday where they sang 60's songs. I thought mostly it was filled with a bunch of Tiger Beat-ish boys that I guess could steal Clay Aiken's fans, but very few I could get excited about. Mostly because I am over 18.

But, speaking of age, American Idol is totally having an identity crisis. Admittedly, I haven't paid attention to A.I. in a long time, but besides the preponderance of (seemingly) prepubescent youth, there were TWO guys that said they were 29. When did they raise the age limit? And isn't it sort of horrifying to be 29 and participating in a group called the Top 12 Boys? [By the way, I'm talkin' to YOU, New Kids on the Block reunion.]

Now, it wasn't all bad. On the opposite spectrum from the pre-teen hearthrobs, I thought Luke-the-carpet-cleaner-guy (totally his name going forward) was very hot even though he looked like he just came from work...at his carpet cleaning job. At what point in this competition do these kids get a stylist?







Also, kinda into the future-Bret-Michaels guy (as he will forevermore be referred to by me), Robbie Carrico.

Other thoughts? I can only hope that the voters will get rid of that Jason Yeager kid immediately for ruining Moon River for me forever. That song should stay immortalized the way it's supposed to.

No, NOT as the theme song from Breakfast at Tiffany's. For me, it's the "Big is leaving New York" song from Sex and the City.

It's my blog and I'll write that if I want to...

Down 'n Dirty

Bret Michaels HAS to be sitting around going, "I can't believe I get paid to do this".

This week's episode of "Rock of Love" featured the remaining whores girls competing in mud football which is basically female mud wrestling...but with a football. The 'winner' then got to have dinner with Bret...IN A LINGERIE STORE.

God bless the American Dream. Or at least, Bret Michaels' American Dream.

I continue to be perplexed by the casting of these girls, however. I imagine that slutty fake-boobed, big haired chicks aren't too hard to um, come by in L.A. But let's be real, most of these girls are NOT CUTE.

On the bright side, at least some of their not-cuteness is in a retro sort of way and takes me back to some good 'ol 80's fun.

Like Catherine. One of the other girls actually called her Peggy Bundy and I certainly can't improve upon that. Also, at least I can say God bless VH1 for not dealing in ageism cuz this chick is 45, which in the dog years of most bachelor-type reality shows is like 100. Hell, they may as well throw that old chick from Titanic into the mix.










And then there's Peyton. Oh Peyton. What is it about you that just immediately conjures up Marlboro Reds and Aqua Net? And you just KNOW her perfume is like, Love's Baby Soft or something. Do they still make that?

But mostly, when I look at Peyton, something else springs to mind: Leather Tuscadero from Happy Days.

Is it JUST me?

Either way, with Leather Tuscadero on the brain, it reminds me that I miss Happy Days. I especially miss Happy Days' VERY SPECIAL EPISODES...and actually, I miss VERY SPECIAL episodes in general.

Oh well, maybe they'll come back someday...just hopefully not on Rock of Love.

Well Played

*Spoilers*

When your show is called "Scott Baio is 46...and Pregnant", it surely presents a problem when cameras aren't allowed in the delivery room. In Sunday night's episode, Renee finally gives birth, but other than a few moments of waiting around, largely, the climactic birth scene occurs off camera.

Surprising? Maybe. And I'm not sure if this was dictated by the situation (hospitals often have filming clauses that kick out cameras if births become of the operating room-variety). It's hard to know if this was pre-planned or not. Maybe Scott Baio actually had a change of heart about revealing too much.

Unfortunately, this season, not-revealing-too-much has actually been a problem. Though I was a huge fan of season 1, as anyone who reads this blog knows, this season has felt largely contrived thus far, like Baio and friends were still playing along with the concept of the show but only on their terms. Other than what-I-hope-weren't-fake tears when Scott visited a church, it's been a little...soulless.

But, by NOT allowing cameras into the delivery room, something far better was revealed.

Behind all the silliness, when this show is good, it has heart. Through intimate photos and audio from the delivery room, a montage set to The Pretenders' "Hymn to Her" told the emotional story. They went for the sappy jugular and they got me. Sue me.

(Now, before you roll your eyes at my complete and utter descent into schmaltz-ville, I will say that the cynical side of me can almost hear VH1 screaming, "What do you mean you don't have the F-ing birth on camera?!!!!")

That aside, something else fun happened. I realized that this show has been quietly and effectively digging up a lot of great (mostly 80's) music worth checking out.

Until this episode, I'd never heard of Hymn to Her, a 1986 Pretenders song (uh, have you?).

And I bet sentimental freaks just like me are running all over the internet to find this song as we speak.

It was also nice to see Aha's song The Sun Always Shines on TV get some new life. Damn, once an 80's girl, always an 80's girl.

But don't worry, in case you think I've totally gotten sucked into some kind of overly emotional vortex, I also liked the Def Leppard's Pour Some Sugar on Me/car wash combo to convey that Renee and Scott were going to pretend for the cameras to fill a plot hole have sex.

In case you missed this episode, go to VH1.com for more airings. It IS VH1, so there's like, alot.

Jungle Boogie

Last week, when Lipstick Jungle premiered I definitely thought it was D.O.A., but last night's episode surprised me. While I'm not exactly upgrading this show to Season Pass status, I'm going to hang in and give it a chance.

My thoughts on the episode:

First, THE GOOD:
The addition of Lorraine Bracco as Brooke Shield's adversary was a great call. I loved her nastiness. The icy condescension that oozed from her lips everytime she called Brooke's character "hun" was a testament to Lorraine's genius as an actress. And when she told Brooke "You must have me confused with your shrink"...well now THAT's a testament to the writers. I can't wait to see what's next for Lorraine's character...though I do wish she didn't look like she'd jumped into some speed-up-the-aging time machine and a little bit like Kirstie Alley's long lost sister.

Now, THE BAD:
This episode opened with a fax machine spitting out box office numbers. I know, this is supposed to telegraph for me, as a viewer, that Brooke Shields's character Wendy is a busy executive that works all the time, even when she's home. Sure she does. And that's why those numbers would be emailed to her Blackberry. The last time I recall a fax machine delivering significant plot-hinging info was in [pre-crazy Tom Cruise's] The Firm....in 1993.

Welcome to the new Millennium, Lipstick Jungle!

...and THE UGLY
Seriously, what is going on with Brooke Shields?! They have made her look so bad on this show it's embarrassing. And not in a deliberate "This-character-is-going-through-a-hard-time-so-we're-going-to-make-her-look-fake-haggard" kind of way. No, this is in a "Fire Your Makeup Artist" (and while you're at it, the Lighting person, too) kind of way.
Damn, if they can't make freakin' BROOKE SHIELDS look good, well, let's just say I would run for the hills if I ever saw Lipstick Jungle cameras comin' my way!








Oh, and THE RANDOM
The storyline about Victory Ford's (Lindsay Price) quest for an old hat was stupid, BUT I am starting to catch a teeny weeny fever for an Andrew McCarthy comeback.

What about Prom, Blaine?!!!!

Relationships Worse Than Yours

In honor of bringing all of the Valentine's Day celebrating to a close, I bring you this bonus post.

Feeling blue that your partner couldn't even manage to buy you carnations from your local deli? Does your romantic night out involve the phrase "Do you wanna supersize that?" [I'm talking dinner. Get your mind out of the gutter. Or don't. No judgments.]

Buck up little campers! It could be worse. You could be one half of one of THESE couples...

Jack and Kate on LOST. Ok, technically they're not a couple. But, whoever ends up with this dude has a built-in future that involves him growing a gross beard, being drunk all the time and wanting to jump off a bridge. Not fun.




Ross and Rachel on FRIENDS. 'On a break' my ass. Cheater.

















Kelly & Dylan, Kelly & Brandon on 90210. Three words of caution to would-be Kelly suitors: "I choose me".






Izzy & Denny on GREY'S ANATOMY. Whenever a defibrillator figures heavily into your courtship, it can't be good.



Enjoy your overpriced dinner tonight!
Mwah!

Idol Chatter

It's not really even fair that I'm writing about American Idol. I've never watched consistently, EXCEPT during the Clay Aiken season where I actually voted (alot) for some hairdresser from Connecticut. (Speaking of which, oh dear Julia DeMato. Where did it all go wrong? Your Wikipedia profile has relegated you to a sadly cliche 'where are they now?' scrap heap.)

I do love that this aforementioned bio describes Julia as an "American professional cosmetologist and singer". I'm pretty sure anytime someone has to insert the word "professional" before your job title, you're um...not. Even if you are, in fact, American.

Regardless, since the Clay vs. Ruben year, I haven't really paid attention.

It's not that I haven't followed what's been going on. The fall and rise of Jennifer Hudson was a great human interest story. It's pretty cool that she won the Oscar and that she's going to ruin be in the Sex and the City movie. Sanjaya's hair is apparently worth mentioning.

But I'm just not a die-hard. (Not like a certain well-known tv personality who once upon a time sent me on a very Devil Wears Prada-esque errand to hunt him down a copy of an Idol episode before he got on a flight...but I digress.) And it's not that I don't understand the phenomenon...I just can't commit so many hours to ONE show!

Again this week, perhaps a parallel to my dating life. Damn Valentine's Day Hallmark commercials got me crazy. Focus, Krista. Focus!

That long ass preamble aside, I've checked out some of the early auditions, and I'll say this: I'm no music exec, but they made a big mistake sending home Angela Martin. Besides the easy part - girl can sing - the story sells itself! Pregnant in high school, now her kid is sick, and a new development after her first audition...her father just died. Hello? America loves a good sob story. What were they thinking?

Plus, I thought the holidays were over, but apparently not, so let me sing it for you: You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch...

Stop Draggin' My Heart Around

It's hard to commit to a new show. Your time is limited, your DVR is packed, but don't you just love it when you find your 'new' Sopranos? Or Sex and the City? I've tried to help over the past year, championing a few long shots that are worth your while, but frankly, sometimes it's a losing battle and it leaves me heartbroken. Call me a hopeless romantic, but I'm ready to fall in love...with some new shows. It's just so hard when you want the newbies to be good and they're just...not.

This is starting to sound like alot of my relationships.

Remember "What about Brian"? It started out as a promising tale of unrequited love and ended in a mishmash of random characters from 90210. (I mean that figuratively AND literally. Tiffani Amber Theissen was brought on late in the game to sex it up.)

And where are you, VH1's The Agency? We had some good times. I thought for sure there would be a season 2. Was it something I said?

And then there's those other shows...the ones that leave you totally hangin' with no closure. As cheesy as it was, I am still bitter that Fox pulled the plug on Reunion before revealing the killer back in '05.

I'll never know why Peter Horton joined the cast of Six Degrees.

And now, I have a funny feeling I will never know the identity of Sam's father on October Road. I know, you're thinking "But I don't watch October Road". And you're probably not going to, but I have been hanging onto that show like it's date 3 with a sorta cute (ok, boring) guy who I agree to go out with again because I'm 36 I'm still optimistic there's potential.

The most recent episode was just so desperate feeling. Not only was there a requisite cringe-inducing montage to Kiss' Rock & Roll All Night (note to TV producers in general: ENOUGH with the montages! Even MTV doesn't play music videos!) but now poor desperate October Road is just pulling out all the stops. A mysterious guest star (hi random casting, it's me, october road...is Armand Assante available?)! The dad has cancer! It's a secret!

I want October Road to be what it set out to be: the weekly updated version of the movie Beautiful Girls. Sadly, it's not. I feel so misled, and I've said it before: I'm just not that into you.

I hate freakin' Valentine's Day.

PS. Welcome back, TV writers! We've missed you. Now, please write me some new shows!

Mytunes

I hadn't actually planned to watch the Grammy Awards this year.

It's not that I don't love music. In fact, I'm your typical Ipod drone who is lucky not to get hit by a car each morning, walking to the subway absorbed in my current "new year's resolution mix" (or whatever cheesy mix title I have decided on for the week). It's just that I am a little out of touch with all of the hipsters of the top 40. In fact, most of the songs that end up in my Itunes "Just for you" cart (recommendations based on my purchases) are of the Classic Rock variety...ok, and one recent really embarrassing Hannah Montana recommendation, but I digress.

But, I'm so glad I watched.

I got to see Alicia Keys kick things off with her Frank Sinatra (video) duet and it was awesome. Awesome enough that my dad called and asked "who is this Alicia Keys?" And then I felt like the hipster. How 'bout that? (I still can't get him to understand what Itunes is, but...baby steps.)

And that's what the Grammy's are supposed to do...bring old and new generations of music lovers together, and there was lots of that.

Now, ON THE OTHER HAND, I'm not sure the world was waiting for a "The Time" reunion, but it was fun seeing MC Hammer Morris Day performing again in that gold suit.

Also, I still don't know the difference between Album of the Year, Song of the Year and Record of the Year.

Only two weeks until the Oscars!

Judging a Book by its Cover

When word first spread that both Lipstick Jungle AND Cashmere Mafia were to premiere this season, the media was abuzz with Sex and the City comparisons. But it also set off a tsunami of shameless gossip that it was war between Candace Bushnell and Darren Star.

All was well when they were both making Sex: Candace was the writer of the book Sex and the City was based on; Darren was the executive producer of this and many other soap-sational series. We all loved Sex and the City. Plenty of glory for everybody. But now on opposite sides, we were all left to wonder....was there still enough love to go around?

Going into this, I thought Lipstick might have the edge. With Candace attached, it certainly looked good on paper. Brooke Shields is a big name. How could it go wrong?

But boy was I wrong. Back in August, I became concerned on this here blog that in the promos of Lipstick, the characters were made up to look like dowdy caricatures. That was just the tip of the iceberg.

And when I say iceberg, I mean, as in...up ahead.

You see, I don't mind if my shows are realistic, for the most part. I even enjoy a little fluff and fantasy. Even when people were bitching about Sarah Jessica Parker's over the top outfits on Sex and the City, I was the girl running out to buy a (ridiculously oversized) flower to pin to my lapel. So, over on Cashmere Mafia, the characters are super shiny and glossy and it's pure pop, but that's ok...they have costume designer legend Pat Field and it shows. That is clearly one of their aces in the hole. Not so coincidentally it was Ms. Field who put SJP in those defining outfits on SATC. And quite frankly, for an hour each week, I'll gladly escape into these rich ladies' problems and occasionally fantasize that someday I can afford a Birkin bag.

But Lipstick Jungle? It's more Maybelline than La Mer..and I mean that literally. Maybelline was a sponsor urging YOU to get "the Lipstick Jungle look".

Um, no thanks. They actually found a way to make Brooke Shields look bad. Her drab makeup made her look sadly blah, and it seemed like in every scene she was wearing the same suit I wore on my job interview at Calvin Klein nearly ten years ago. I, too, thought I looked fashionable, but whereas Banana Republic might've been the (only) choice for me on my poverty-induced budget, Brooke Shields' character is supposed to be president of a movie studio? Even her cell phone was irritating! They couldn't even get a Blackberry or Iphone? No bluetooth?

But the most egregious offense for me was the sloppy editing. Or should I blame the bad shooting? (There was a shot left in where the camera was literally shaking as what-I-can-only assume was a bus went by. Or maybe it was a fighter plane.) This was film school bad. I stopped counting all of the mistakes about 30 minutes in but some of the highlights were Andrew McCarthy laughing and then they'd cut to a close up and PRESTO-CHANGO he's suddenly serious. My favorite? In one particular scene Brooke Shields' line is dubbed in...but her lips are...not...moving! I don't want to be harsh. Maybe it wasn't dubbed. Maybe Brooke's become a ventriloquist in her spare time.

Despite the hype, neither show is really a Sex ripoff. Yes, they're all about women in NYC but honestly LOST and Gilligan's Island are both about castaways and no one is trying to shove those two shows in the same category. Now, I've had more of a chance to warm up to Cashmere Mafia since I've seen more episodes and in truth I didn't love that first one either. So, I'm going to keep watching both, but so far this ain't exactly close.

Verdict: Cashmere covers Lipstick.