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Late Night
21

David Letterman Probably Likes David Letterman Less Than You Do

by | February 13th, 2013

Once, when Terri Garr was a guest on Late Night with David Letterman, she tried to make small talk with her host during a commercial break. The World’s Most Dangerous Band was playing too loudly to allow for conversation, but Garr managed to ask Dave how he was doing.

Rather than attempt to shout over the music, Dave scribbled a note on a piece of paper and pushed it across the desk to her.

“I hate myself,” it read.

Garr assured Dave that that was silly, that he was a very talented man and a famous celebrity.

Dave took the note back from her and scribbled some more before giving it back.

“I hate myself,” it read. READ MORE

Geography
0

Not In My San Diego: How 'NTSF:SD:SUV::' Has Perfectly Captured My Hometown

by | November 7th, 2012

Like a lot of San Diegans, I’m originally from somewhere else. My family moved here when I was but a slip of a lad, however, and I’ve definitely lived here longer than anywhere else. When I first moved here at the age of 12, I hated it intensely, bristling at the intense cultural differences between suburban Los Angeles and suburban San Diego in the way only a seventh grader can. But that hatred blossomed into a weird love/hate relationship that can only be justified by the glowing eye of my television set.

Other than Simon & Simon, there haven’t been many successful TV shows set here in America’s 8th largest city. I don’t count Veronica Mars because even though it was largely filmed here, it was set in some fictional California berg (as far as I know, I mean, I never actually watched it)(though I did linger around the set if and when I could because, well, y’know). FX’s Terriers got shellacked before it ever had a chance. I’m not even going to mention That ‘80s Show or Cavemen, except I already did.

Meanwhile, you’ve got what amounts to our East Coast counterpart in Miami racking up all kindsa hit shows like The Golden Girls, Burn Notice, Miami Vice, and of course CSI: Miami. I mean, hey, we’ve got beautiful beaches, women in bikinis, 300-plus days of sunshine. What gives, viewing America?

And this bush-league status of San Diego, California, is exactly the point of my little diatribe here. Sure, the film Anchorman put us on the map quite a bit, but you can only hear that “whale’s vagina” gag so many times. But as it stands, America’s Finest City is pretty much a metropolitan punchline, and as it stands, I couldn’t be more pleased with that situation. READ MORE

Heroes
22

I'm Your Uncle Buck: The Low-Key Career Path of John Candy

by | October 1st, 2012

I saw Wagons East! in the theater during its short run. I used to ride the bus down to the comic book store every Saturday, and if I had any money left over, I’d catch a matinee up the block. This week, I set that part of my allowance aside in advance. I got there a half-hour early as was my custom, but I was the only person in the theater. It was a major bummer, for a number of reasons. I knew the film had been roundly panned by critics and was tanking at the box office, but this was John Candy’s final film we were talking about. I didn’t care if it sucked, it was going to be my last chance to see the big lug up there on the screen. Still, even during that final shot of Candy’s character riding off into the sunset, I was too depressed to even feel depressed.

Two years later, Martin Knelman published Laughing on the Outside: The Life of John Candy. The book is not horrible, but it does feel a bit rushed at times and eager to make connections that seem fairly vague, assertions of a darker side to the man. Kind of a less mean-spirited version of Bob Woodward’s Wired. One thing the book discusses, though, which sounds accurate to me is just exactly why John Candy appeared in so many awful, awful films.

Generally speaking, there is almost always something needy about performers, a drive to be understood or at least accepted by large numbers of people. I think John Candy’s career speaks to this: the guy obviously had a hard time saying no. But even though he did about as many bad movies as he did good ones, it is exactly this eagerness to please which makes the man’s work so endearing. If he was a less talented man or less charming, this may have come off as pathetic (insert your favorite reality-TV star here). But if there was one thing John Candy possessed by the truckload, it was talent and charisma, and there simply was no other path his career could have taken. READ MORE

Lovely Ladies
10

Pals and Confidants: The Golden Girls in (Mostly) Their Own Words

by | September 13th, 2012

Writers write. Sometimes, actors also write. Sometimes, actors should just stick to acting. But some other times, when actors write, they allow us a look inside their personalities and processes which engenders an even better understanding of their acting work, a nice seasoning that enhances the flavor of the main dish. And at still other times, their silence speaks volumes.

People are pretty much always going to want to know more about their favorite actors, what they’re really like as people. When a group dynamic is introduced, public curiosity seems to heighten—people want to know not only about the actors’ individual lives, but if they get along as well off-screen as they do on. I’ll be the first to admit that public curiosity is not currently at its height concerning my chosen subject, the cast of The Golden Girls. Indeed, on first blush, my love for this show would make more sense if I were a menopausal woman (which, sadly, I am not). But aside from any personal maternal-TV crushes (which also apply to Roseanne Barr and Phylicia Rashād), The Golden Girls to me represents the last of the golden-age of the sitcom, showcasing the talents of a cast who helped build TV comedy and gave us one last hurrah with this traditional format before The Simpsons came along and began rewriting all the rules. READ MORE

Personal Histories
8

The King of 'The King of Comedy'

by | June 18th, 2012

It is the year 2000. I have moved into my grandparents’ basement in Roswell, New Mexico, and am pecking out a skin-peelingly bad novel. I am 23 years old and I am lonely. I work nights down at the local Blockbuster Video, which enables me to catch up on a lot of movies I have yet to see. One afternoon, I watch the 1983 Martin Scorsese film The King of Comedy, starring Robert De Niro and Jerry Lewis. My immediate reaction: “I have never related more to a film’s protagonist.”

It is the year 2010. I have moved into my mother’s guest room in San Diego, California, and I am pecking out a slim existence working jobs below my level of education, but my writing no longer peels skin. I am 33 years old and somewhat depressed, but my therapy has been going swimmingly. I spend many a night watching VHS cassettes that my friends have dumped on me, the last man in Southern California with a hooked-up VCR. One evening, I watch the 1983 Martin Scorsese film The King of Comedy, starring Robert De Niro and Jerry Lewis. My immediate reaction: “I have never been more embarrassed to relate to a film’s protagonist.”

This is the story of how I went from king for a night to schmuck for a lifetime. READ MORE

Movies
23

No More Comedy Sequels: Five Cautionary Tales

by | May 23rd, 2012

Anchorman 2, huh? I mean, yeah, I’m down, but it’s a bit weird to me that everyone’s so excited for it. Sequels to movies, even to crappy ones, are almost always met with contempt and fart noises. Then again, people never seem to shut up about them. Folks seemed truly disappointed when it was reported that Ghostbusters 3 had fallen through, but when National Lampoon celebrated April Fools’ Day by announcing on their Twitter the impending release of Animal House 2, people could not get up in arms fast enough.

Everybody knows the old song about how The Godfather: Part II and The Empire Strikes Back surpass the originals, and the same argument could also be made of other sequels, like The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly and Predator 2. But with drama, you can take a premise and explore it, expand on it, and this can lend depth to already well-known characters. Try and do that with a comedy, and you just get the same old jokes. Exhibit A: Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me.

So here for you, in handy list form, are five reasons why there should never be any more comedy sequels ever again. Go make Do the Right Thing 2: The Wrath of Radio Raheem, if you need a sequel to something so badly. Hell, I’d see that before Bridesmaids 2: Electric Bride-a-loo. READ MORE

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