If Lou Reed is the drunk uncle that ruins your Thanksgiving, then Tom Waits is the uncle to whom you offer another glass -- in the off chance he may pull one of these in your backyard.
The songsmith turned to director Jesse Dylan, media exec and son of Bob, to helm this off-the-cuff black-and-white clip. It features a sweating Waits pointing his "gun" and scratching an itchy belly as he stomps around the dirt in front of a tree and a fence. That's it. Really.
The song is culled from "Bad As Me," the Anti- artist's latest and first top 10 set, and features steady hands from those like Marc Ribot on guitar, Les Claypool on bass, son Casey Waits on drums and a little stank from Keith Richards. In part, that's why Waits tips his hat to the Rolling Stones: they claim they can't get no satisfaction, but as he sings, "I will have satisfaction / I will be satisfied."
If you need a few moment of wank material, here's nine-and-a-half minutes for free, though not commercial-free.
Duran Duran unleashed their extremely expensive Jonas Åkerlund-directed music video for new single "Girl Panic" and, boy, are there girls. Lots of them. And they're all models, kissing each other, pretending to be hung-over, air-humping, drinking champagne RIGHT FROM THE BOTTLE (!!!), brushing their bed-head from their faces and walking around the hallways perhaps in search of some diet soda or a cigarette.
The figureheads of the video are Duran Duran, played by super models Naomi Campbell as lead singer Simon Le Bon, Cindy Crawford as bassist John Taylor, Eva Herzigova as keyboardist Nick Rhodes ("as the only blonde in the band" [!!]), Helena Christensen as drummer Roger Taylor and Simon's wife Yasmin Le Bon as "the anonymous guitarist" (ouch). They dryly talk about their stardom, address former allegations like addiction, and explain why the band is "still at it" after 30 years, in bondage unis. This "encomassing humour" is funny because super models are trying be rock stars. Isn't that hilarious?
Duran Duran meta-note that they were among the first bands to use models in the videos, because nobody would have ever thought of that. And if the models-as-rock-stars metaphor is to extended, then it appears the guys and their crew spend all their downtime just making out with each other.
But to be fair, some of the shots are head-rushingly beautiful, and the fashion is sometimes on fire. I'm still not so wild about the song, which sounds outdated, and I'm so damn sweaty and exhausted by the end, I don't have it in me to give it another go, to play a fun game of "name that designer."
Duran Duran fans who live to support this single, however, will love this.
After bowing at AFI Fest just a few days ago, Clint Eastwood's "J. Edgar" is set for release nationwide later this week. And with it comes a pair of performances, from Armie Hammer and particularly Leonardo DiCaprio, that could spark up Oscar consideration as the season moves forward.
Eastwood has often been called an actor's director, and indeed, actors love working with him. He trusts them to find their way into a performance quickly. He does few takes and doesn't even call "action." It's an organic process and by most accounts, actors feel at ease under his direction. With 32 films under his belt, it's no wonder he knows what he wants and how to get it, even if the quality of the outcome can so frequently be up for debate.
With that in mind, it seemed like a good opportunity to dedicate an installment of The Lists to the greatest performances Eastwood has ushered to the screen. With 32 films come plenty of possibilities, and the cream of that crop does indeed make for a list of highly accomplished portrayals, I think.
It really isn't any mystery what the big story of the morning is. Well, it was the big story of all day yesterday, actually, but I saved it for this space. Brett Ratner, you've probably heard, decided to make a joke and say "rehearsal's for fags" at a recent "Tower Heist" Q&A. This after the Oscarcast producer has made public remarks about his sexual encounters with Lindsay Lohan and Olivia Munn. Not that anyone expected Ratner to come in and class up the Academy Awards, but it goes without saying, this got people talking. And it was Mark Harris quick on the draw calling for Ratner's head on a platter...well, calling for an AMPAS pink slip, in any case. [Grantland]
What I love most about the housewives of Beverly Hills is that they're not shy about pumping their faces full of plastic and Botox and possibly drain cleaner in their quest to remain young and (sometimes) creepy looking. Take, for example, tonight's big event: Paul's Night of Beauty. Paul, as we know, is Adrienne's plastic surgeon husband, and he's inviting all of the housewives over for snacks and free treatments. It's like a spa day, except with numbing cream and pain! While most of the girls are lining up for Botox and fillers, Kyle is bravely taking on having her "love handles" (she thinks calling them that is cute, but I can't get the image of a fat, middle-aged man out of my head) warmed off. Or I think it's warming it off. It looks like she's being slowly roasted under a fast food heat lamp, but I'm sure it's much, much fancier than that.
I’ve been plenty hard on “Terra Nova” these past few months. I don’t regret it, but I’m running out of finding new ways to tell you the same reasons it doesn’t work. Because by and large, each episode is a variation on one of the systemic problems that keep this show from at least being entertaining. (I’m not sure it will ever get to “good,” but the masochist in me keeps hope alive.) No show with time travel, dinosaurs, and conspiracies that cross both centuries and realities should be this pedestrian. Yet, here we are. “Nightfall” was probably the best episode since the pilot, but saying that is damning it with faint praise.
But rather than have me tell you why it’s faint praise, I chose to follow the lead of the show and lean on my inside man to tell you what went down tonight. That’s right: it’s not only the Sixers that have a double agent in their midst. Me? I got my buddy Nyko on the scene to give you all the insider perspective. Who is Nyko? He’s a nykoraptor, of course: a fictional dinosaur made up for the show in case any remaining velociraptors might sue for defamation. (OK, fine: that’s probably not the real reason. But I like the idea of velociraptors and cavemen hanging out, both complaining about stereotypes perpetrated against them by modern pop culture.)
I asked Nyko to give me an up close and personal view of life in his homeland since Taylor and Company burst through the portal and set up camp. Take it away, Nyko!
We're down to the final five couples, and, with the exception of Ricki and J.R., this was not the line-up I expected to see. Nancy Grace? Rob Kardashian? I'm hoping that Hope Solo manages to reach her potential this week, because otherwise the final three is going to be a case of "which one of these things is not like the others?"
It seems longer ago than August that the movie-blog fraternity was getting worked up about Andy Serkis's digitally-enabled performance in "Rise of the Planet of the Apes," with many getting prematurely irate about the awards attention he would inevitably not receive.
I wrote my two cents about it then, arguing that, skilful as his work is, "much of the critical praise for Serkis’s Caesar hinges on a undeniable expressiveness that has nonetheless been enhanced beyond the actor’s own means." Whether that qualifies for acting awards or not is in the eye of the beholder.
For my part, I don't find the perfectly nifty finished performance interesting enough to merit consideration, so it's a moot point. Personally, I find Serkis's second motion-capture creation of 2011 -- the sozzled Scottish seadog Captain Haddock in "The Adventures of Tintin" -- the more rewarding turn, and I wouldn't throw statuettes at that one either. I appreciate I may be in a minority here.
During my vacation, I was poking around Twitter late one night and talking to Sasha Stone, owner and operator of Awards Daily. We were talking about Fox Searchlight's upcoming release of "Shame" and the NC-17 that the film was awarded.
She mentioned the full-frontal nudity by Carey Mulligan in an early scene in the film and how she was convinced that was one of the reasons for the most restrictive rating, and I told her I was fairly sure that was not the case. Our conversation was blunt, with frank terminology used as a sort of shorthand, and one of my Twitter followers told me that a woman next to him on the train was actively offended by the terminology we were using. That made me laugh because (A) the woman was reading his Twitter feed and (B) adults who get worked up over words they don't like are funny.
While it's easy to let a conversation about the functional insanity that defines what is or isn't appropriate for a sixteen-year-old versus a seventeen-year-old lapse into open silliness, it's a real conversation that is worth having. During my vacation, the ratings system that is regulated by the MPAA had its 43rd anniversary, and it seems to me this is a good moment to reflect on whether or not it's doing the job it was created to do, what alternatives exist, and what the Internet means to ratings in general.
Need a pick-me-up after the new "Breaking Dawn - Part 1" soundtrack? How about a "Happy Song" with the Muppets?
"The Muppets" 2011 movie principals Jason Segal and Amy Adams help to lead "Life's a Happy Song." The title may make you urp, as may some of the lyrical content, but it may be more digestible considering who wrote it. Bret McKenzie, one half of "New Zealand's second most popular guitar-based, digi-bongo, a cappella, rap-funk-comedy folk duo" Flight of the Conchords, is serving as music supervisor on the film. Blame him for this interestingly gummy original track for the film, due in theaters on Nov. 23. Keep your ears open: Feist and Mickey Rooney also pull a cameo on the track.