Just Say No

You'd be hard pressed to find any positive reviews of Denise Richards: It's Complicated or Living Lohan. The most positive thing I've read is the opening from the San Diego Union Tribune: "As a study in fame-related psychosis, "Living Lohan" is actually pretty fascinating..."

So, I knew what I was getting into when I tuned in to this double dose of D-listers, but why does it still hurt so bad? I had to see for myself. Maybe you did, too.

It's a sad day when I'd rather follow the moral compass of Charlie Sheen, but Ms. Richards' show does nothing to advance her cause to prove she's just a regular ol' (wronged) single mom trying to find her way. She trots out her mother's tragic cancer death like some kind of trump card that might erase her evil, but instead, this show made me cringe more than as if I was watching Woody Allen attend a junior high school dance.

Gross.

And after subjecting myself to Living Lohan, mostly I felt like I needed to be de-loused after watching. Dina Lohan will tell anyone who'll listen how she doesn't crave attention.

Methinks you doth protest too loudly, you cheese infested plastic Barbie gone bad.

Parasitic Dina and her (probably underpaid) underlings relentlessly Google meal ticket Lindsay to see what's been written about her in the rags each day. Watching 14 year old Ali (who conceivably could've been 13 when this was filmed) peer over her mother's shoulder while she reviewed the latest sex scandal of her big sis? Disturbing on so many levels.

I'm trying to compare our upbringings: When I was 14, my mother would not let me wear a denim jacket to school because I would "look like a hood".

Let's just say I think I had the better deal.

My opinion of Dina Lohan? Joan Crawford and her wire hangers are better suited to parenting.

Missing in Action

*SPOILERS*

I'm not sure why I've written 'spoilers', because the truth is, this past week of finales was lacking much of anything to spoil.

First, though, even worse news: after a week of no American TV except an episode of 'Charmed' in French, I returned home from Paris to discover my cable box had fried and no shows had taped.

No shows had taped. NO SHOWS HAD TAPED. NO. SHOWS. HAD. TAPED!

After the emotional equivalent of breathing into a paper bag and reenacting the scene from Sex and the City when Miranda's TIVO stops working, I came to terms with my plight and tracked down most of the shows I had missed online, save for the American Idol finale (other than in pieces).








Whatever happened to cliffhangers???! How I Met Your Mother was ok, and sure, I guess Ted proposing and Barney secretly being in love with Robin seems exciting, but I just didn't have that "I cannnnnnnn't wait all summer" feelin'.

And then there's Grey's.

I just don't know that Grey's will ever be what it once was and that makes me sad. Yes, I thought Justin Chambers' Alex performance was a standout, and I look forward to buying the song they used toward the end ("The Quest" by Bryn Christopher) when it comes out June 9th.

But where are the weddings gone bad? The secret babies? The shootings?

Now that's what I really look forward to in MY finales, and I felt cheated. And that's another thing. Where's the cheatin' heart kind of love triangles? At least last week's ER finale blew up some stuff and possibly killed off a character or two. Now THAT's a finale.

Well, there's still Thursday. I just know I can find what's missing...on LOST.

An American Girl in Paris

It was already unthinkable.

I call myself a tv blogger and I plan a trip to Paris during finale week? mon Dieu!

At any rate, with croissants and wine on my mind (ok that and trying to figure out how I'm going to avoid news of the winner of American Idol until I get home), I thought it fitting that when I settled in to pack Friday night, TBS had on the Paris-based finale of Sex and the City.

And with Sex and the City: The Movie mania at a fever pitch, it was just another way for me to ramp up to the premiere.

But then...sacrebleu! Those greedy monsters at TBS had to cram in so many commercials that they Edward Scissor-handed the whole episode until it made no sense. Now granted, yes, I've seen it 800 times (and so have you) and it's not like I couldn't figure it out, but in principle, it left me outraged.

The TBS version (a.k.a. the Total Bull S*** version) had Carrie arriving in Paris, waiting till late for Aleksander to meet her for dinner...and then suddenly she's wondering what went wrong. No falling in Chanel. No wandering the streets of Paris trying to find herself. NO LOSING THE CARRIE NECKLACE!!

Maybe I'm overreacting. At least they didn't lose the famous "Go get our girl" line. That would've been a BIG mistake.

Now, as for American girls in...well, America, don't forget, ABC's got the premiere of The Bachelorette Monday at 9pm.

Meanwhile, those nice folks at ABC are waiting till next week when I'm back to run the LOST finale.

OK, it actually has nothing to do with me. I can pretend, right? It is fittingly called "There's No Place Like Home". Hmmm...you wizards of Oz and elsewhere...chew on the significance of THAT.

Au revoir!

Gone Baby Gone

Upfront week continues, and today it's ABC who has unveiled their fall plans.

NOT making the cut:



October Road: So, just as I had feared, we'll never find out if Nick is Sam's father. Or if Hannah will marry Big Cat. Or if the networks ever give a show with potential time to build an audience.












Cashmere Mafia: Sorry girls, NBC's Lipstick Jungle reigned supreme in this matchup. Pack up your knives Manolos and go.










Oprah's Big Give: I guess she gave enough at the office. Show's over.

Inexplicably, According to Jim comes back midseason. Oh goodie. I can't wait.

On the new front, King of Quirky David E. Kelley's got another show coming at ya. Life on Mars is about a detective who is transported to the 1970's. And Opportunity Knocks is an Ashton Kutcher reality show where producers show up on your doorstep and you have a chance to win prizes.

Opportunity Knocks is NOT, apparently, the feeling execs had for Big Shots. That show's gone buh-bye, too. Sorry, DYLAN MCDERMOTT, time to hit up big shot boss David E. Kelley for a new job.

Everything Old is New Again

It's upfront week, and NBC has announced their new fall lineup. There's not a lot of new shows here....and the ones that are new? Well, let's just say I'm feeling a bit like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day.

Desperate to try and steal ABC's viewers of LOST, this fall NBC offers Crusoe, based on the novel from...1719. Also coming soon: Moby Dick, the series. Just kidding, ANIMAL PLANET!!!!! Don't get any ideas.

Also, on NBC, perhaps learning nothing from the Bionic failure of The Bionic Woman, Knight Rider is set to make a comeback, but it doesn't look like David Hasselhoff has much of a role, if any.

I don't know about this...I would not hassle the Hoff!

My Own Worst Enemy is a new spy drama starring Christian Slater and the perfect title if the series were written by his ex-girlfriends where he plays two dudes in one; one lives in the suburbs and the other is a spy, yet they are both in the same body. Which I guess means "Schizo-Spy" wasn't available as a title. It does seem worth checking out, but what IS it about Christian Slater these days that makes him seem...so...oily?

Lastly, ER is coming back for its 15th and final season. Will they lure Clooney back? Will Mark Greene rise from the dead? Will John Stamos continue to look hot?

Stay tuned. And hopefully, we won't find out it was all just some kind of dream...elsewhere.

Back to the Future

So, a lot of you have opinions about who should end up on Scott Baio's new show. Since the series has an eye toward reviving the careers of former teen idols, I've got a few casting suggestions, VH1...with a little help from my friends:

Christopher Atkins: These days he supposedly owns an outdoor sports company and also has patented his own fishing lure. That's a long way from the Lagoon. Surely you can reel him in.






Ralph Macchio: The Karate Kid seems to get a kick out of poking fun at himself. Or, if he won't do it, why not call up Billy Zabka? Best remembered as Johnny, the bully who tried to "Sweep The Leg", recently he's been taking a shot at stretching out his Karate Kid success.
I'm guessing he's available.


Jason Cerbone: Once the enormously popular but ill-fated Jackie Aprile, Jr. on The Sopranos, he is now, according to IMDB, about to star in...Mafioso II. The cast also includes (STILL ALIVE!) Abe Vigoda, Angie Everhart, and Justin Guarini.

I. Cannot. Make. This. Stuff. Up.

Please, VH1, help him. He needs the kind of hit that doesn't involve the mafia.

Glory Daze

According to Entertainment Weekly my boyfriend Scott Baio is hosting a new series for VH1 where a bunch of washed up teen hearthrobs live in a house and figure out if they should try and become famous again or follow some other path, all with the help of a life coach.

Life coaches are sooooooo trendy.








Anyhoo, I am of course, thrilled, and am betting my bottom dollar they are RIGHT NOW begging Michael Schoeffling to be a part of it. Michael Schoeffling was, of course, the dreamy Jake in Sixteen Candles, the movie that launched a million teen-girl fantasies of being lifted from social obscurity into cool-clique love.

And, as the legend goes, Schoeffling fled Hollywood shortly after this film to become Aidan Shaw a furniture maker in PA. Everyone wants to find him. But, so far, no one has lured him back into the spotlight.


I, for one, am hopeful that they get him or at least guys like 'em. Please, please, please, VH1, no Corey's need apply.

Oh, and here's a tip as you go on your search to fill the former hearthrob slots: I'm pretty sure Patrick Dempsey's already pretty all set with resurrecting HIS career.

Weeding out the Finalists

*SPOILERS*

Don't let the door hit you in the dreads on the way out.

Sorry, Jason Castro fans, that was the feeling I had when he was finally sent packing in the most anti-climactic American Idol elimination...EVER.

Other random thoughts as I watched the producers stretch out Jason's final hour before he could hit the bong again the rest of the night:

-How is it possible that A) Über-dork Maroon 5 dude Adam Levine has allegedly bagged Jessica Simpson and Maria Sharapova? and B) if HE was one of the contestants, well...let's just say he SO would've been voted off the island...oh wait, wrong show. Well, you know what I mean!

-Bo Bice sure looks a lot like those guys in my high school that used to linger in the parking lot by their Camaro's at lunch to smoke a cigarette.

-Weirdest non-drug induced flashback moment: That opening American Idol number to "Reelin' in the Years" and The Brady Bunch number "Sunshine Day" - freakishly similar choreography...or is it JUST ME?

Sex, Lies and Videotape

It's coming.

Sex and the City: The Movie is going to come roaring into theaters at the end of the month, and millions of women just like me will race to the theater to drink up every drop.

Until then, though, we hungrily await each little tidbit, each morsel, each teeny weeny bit of info the carefully poised marketing team feeds us.

First, it was the "leaked" trailer on the internet. Well played, New Line Cinema. Stage One of your multi-layered strategy to drum up interest was brilliant.

Now, little by little, each new trailer eeks out just a scene or two more. OMG, Is Carrie running out on her wedding? Is Charlotte preggers?

I have watched and studied the trailer more times than the FBI watched the Zapruder film. And while conspiracy theorists (or maybe even New Line marketing execs) would have you believe that Big is going to bite the dust, trust me...it ain't EVER gonna happen.

My prediction? Kim Cattrall's Samantha is going down.

Maybe I could choose my words better for that one. Ahem.

What I mean is, by now it's no secret that something BIG (no pun intended) happens at the wedding. But, if you'll notice, there are 2 revealing shots in the trailer: one contains ALL FOUR girls going up the stairs at the wedding; the other has THE THREE GIRLS (BUT NOT SAMANTHA) rushing out of the church. So, I'm guessing that the wedding is disrupted by something Samantha-related...mayyyybe having to do with her cancer?

Whatever it is, Samantha will triumphantly attend the wedding, in just the kind of scene-stealing move Kim Cattrall demanded in her contract before signing on drama we have come to know and love on SATC.

But, don't take my word for it. I also predicted Adriana would return from the dead on the Sopranos.

Hey, it still could happen! Well...in Sopranos: The Movie.

Brotherly Love

*SPOILERS*

On ABC's Brothers & Sisters, the latest storyline involves Justin falling for...his sister, Rebecca. Now before your gag reflex totally kicks in, like, relax. She's not really his sister. But, all season Justin and Rebecca thought they were both chips off the same dead guy's block, until the arrival of that dude from Thirtysomething who is ACTUALLY her dad. Follow?

Anyhoo, they now have scientific proof that they are indeed, NOT related, and all signs point to these two swapping spit next week, and NOT for a DNA test.

All I can say is...GROSS!!!! Related or not, they thought they were brother and sister for like a year! It's...ICKY!

Which led me to recall some other somewhat uncomfortable brother and sister acts over the years:

Marcia & Greg: Sure, on TV it was all unicorns and rainbows. Offscreen, they were gettin' down to a different type of groovy.


Donny and Marie: She's a little bit country. He's a little bit rock and roll. Opposites attract. Discuss.












Ross and Monica: Sure, they've slept with each other's best friends. But, these two give new meaning to "gettin' jiggy with it".

Dance Fever

*SPOILERS*

I've got a bit of dance on the brain, and not just cuz EVERY network seems to have a dance show: Dancing with the Stars, America's Best Dance Crew, So You Think You Can Dance, Your Mama Don't Dance and of course, Step It Up and Dance.

It's important you say that last one as botoxed zombie host Elizabeth Berkley says it, Step it up ANNNNNNNNNND Dance. (Do you even KNOW how much will power it took for me to take the high road and not post a Showgirls pic??)

I have dance on the brain because I saw A Chorus Line for the first time this weekend (with Mario Lopez, natch) and realized Step it up and Dance is basically (duh) kind of just a weekly real life version of this very show. Ok, a reality show real life, but real-iSH.

And I felt the same heartbreak when the fictional auditioners in A Chorus Line got cut as I did when I watched real life Oscar get eliminated this week because the producers kept Michael for drama on Step it up and Dance. I mean, ANNNNND Dance.

Now, I have already mentioned in the interest of full disclosure that I have met Oscar, but, bias aside...there were some sketchy machinations going on. Like, what a co-WINK-ee-dink that the 4 dancers on the winning team went boy girl boy girl...just as the dance number required.

And I appreciate that Jason Alexander has this whole other dance-related life unrelated to Seinfeld, but A) let's be honest, the whole time you were watching you kept thinking, WHAT is George Costanza doing here? and B) if he was not there in a voting capacity then why have him?

Finally, while I continue to cry FOUL at the Damn Yankees challenge that sent dear Oscar home, on the Bravo site, you can vote for who YOU think should've gone home. Now, I admit my computer is so old, it's practically the one from the 1984 Apple commercial, but when I tried to vote for Michael as the loser...it didn't work.

Bravo web people, now it's time for YOU to do some fancy footwork.

Run for your Life

My Ipod is about as schizo as it gets. Sharing the same drive space you'll find Ray Charles, Eminem, and Springsteen right next to Whitney, Madonna and Elton.

But my heart just belongs to those sugary ballads. I admit it. Even better when they're the 'rock' power ballads.

This has not changed much since I was aching over unrequited love in high school to "Every Rose Has its Thorn". This song is sooooooo true, adolescent me would lament, pre-blog (hell, pre-computer) days, in my diary.

What's even more embarrassing is that when running at the gym, I sometimes listen to these songs, too. Sure, I also load up with a fair amount of Big Beat driven cheese (who DOESN'T embrace a little Britney when trying to kick it up 'hills' on the treadmill), but while the hot dude next to me has likely got a little Kanye in his ear, it's just as likely I am running full steam to some ridiculously sad song...aching over unrequited love (well, that and my knees...running is hard.).

And now those damn American Idol jerks have chosen to not make my latest inspiration for dorkiness, David Cook's oh-so-romantic reinvention of Neil Diamond's song, All I Really Need is You, available for purchase on Itunes...unless you want the VIDEO.

I am a loser, but not THAT bad.

So now I'm stuck, tethered to YouTube to listen to this song, until someone comes to their senses. C'mon, Itunes + American Idol co-marketers, I need me some David Cook to cool down to!

Please add my song. There are miles of schmaltz to go before I sleep.

The Moppet Shows

Remember in the 80's when the solution to any show's sagging ratings was adding a cute kid? Like that bowl-cutted one on Family Ties? (Remember how he aged from zygote to 5 year old in like 1 season? That was big in the 80's, too.)

How come shows don't do this anymore? Like, maybe the new Bionic Woman would've had a Season 2 if they'd added a Bionic Baby. Or a Bionic 5 Year old.



What about that kid Fonzie adopted at the end of Happy Days? Was that super weird or just me?











And then there's Raven Symoné. Before she was SO Raven, she was so Olivia, the cute new kid on Cosby. Raven's done a tad better than the Happy Days kid. Wikipedia claims she made 400 million from That's So Raven merchandise.

Take THAT Miley Cyrus.

Raven used to shoot on the same lot where I worked a few years ago. I kinda wish I'd gotten to know her and her 400 million bucks. Especially since I just charged cheese.

Wow. 400 Million. It's A Different World where I come from...