Random thoughts while watching college basketball; specifically, watching Texas and Kevin Durant get massacred by USC. First, I know they’re young, but could there be a bigger disconnect between the Longhorns’ talent and their ability to play as a team? Second, despite my Bruin bloodlines, it’s fun to see the Trojans have some success in roundball; it’s no fun beating up on a bad team. Now if we could just wake up Karl Dorrell…

Still catching up: Movie review

Anchorman (2004). Mildly amusing and generally inoffensive; Will Ferrell pulls off being a likable boor, and his co-stars are adequate. But the setups are much funnier than the bits themselves; there were a lot of those “boy, this is gonna be funny…. ummm, well, kind of…” A lot like an SNL sketch; funny premise, disappointing execution. Some potentially great cameos suffer the same fate; there are several well-known faces given almost nothing amusing to say or do. One telling sign of its mediocrity: you walk away remembering no killer lines that bring to mind killer scenes. Okay, I'll give them one: during anchor Ron Burgundy's struggle for newsroom supremacy, his signature sign-off is sabotaged on his teleprompter, and what results is pretty funny. That's one. Maybe I'm just not Ferrell's demographic; to paraphrase the late great Dr. Frank-n-furter, "I didn't make it for you!"  C+

Still catching up: Music review

Two Lights, Five for Fighting (2006). I really liked “Superman,” but I didn’t buy FFF’s first CD. I really liked “100 Years,” but I didn’t buy the 2nd CD either. So when I heard “The Riddle,” I thought it was time to buy the CD. Good call. Reallygood call. John Ondrasik (yes, it’s a guy, not a band) is clearly a product of his influences; Elton John, Billy Joel, James Taylor, a certain ineffable Southern California point of view). This album is mostly piano ballads; several are topical, about a nation at war (“Freedom Never Cries,” “Two Lights”), some are dreams of a better place (“World,” “Road to Heaven”), and some are simply love songs (e.g., “I Just Love You,” which at the end gives a wonderful twist on the relationship being considered). But it’s certainly not all ballads; “Policeman’s Xmas Party” is truly odd but great fun, “California Justice” is sarcastic without being strident (and is full of SoCal references), “65 Mustang” is an upbeat throwaway, and “Johnny America” is out and out exuberant. If you like Harry Chapin and Steve Forbert  and my patron saint, Jackson Browne, I think you’ll like this. If you prefer songwriters to poseurs and melody to noise, and if the presence of a piano doesn’t cause you hives, I think you’ll like this. Grade: A.

Happy birthday to George Foreman

He’s 30 today. That probably needs some explaining. Spiritually, it’s his birthday; 30 years ago today, after losing what appeared to be his last heavyweight fight, Foreman had a religious experience that turned him to Christ. "He was a bad guy," says boxing promoter Bob Arum. "Surly. Mean-spirited. He had abused women, got in a lot of street fights. He was selfish, self-centered, had episodes of mistreating people if he didn't get his way.” A changed man, Foreman retired, started a ministry, and spent ten years quietly serving God before launching a comeback that would improbably result in regaining the heavyweight title. He’s left boxing for good now, but he’s still God’s man: "It's a pleasure to be a part of his life," says Arum. "He's a kind, caring, terrific person…. It's sincere, man, it ain't an act."  Foreman is throwing himself a huge birthday party in Houston. Happy birthday, brother…

On my small screen this week

The Life Aquatic (2004). They’ve got cameras. They’ve got glocks. They’ve got a ship you wouldn’t cross the LA River in, ‘though it does have a sauna and a very nice kitchen. They’ve got funding issues, interpersonal issues, mutiny issues, midlife crisis issues, love triangle issues, pirate issues… they’re Team Zissou, and they’re in search of Bill Murray’s personal Moby Dick. 

Talk about a movie that defies analogy and categorization; in plot and look and feel, it’s not really like anything else out there. It’s a feast, visually and musically; wonderful undersea footage (and stop-action animation), richly saturated colors, and a Bowie-based score with throw-ins from the Zombies, Bach, and Iggy Pop (of course, the Bowie cuts are all sung in Portuguese, so there!). The oversaturated colors and writer/director Wes Anderson’s unconventional cuts (and a couple of truly amazing theater-style scenes on a cut-away version of the ship) give it a delightful but somewhat artificial feel, the feel I get from a well-done comic book; enjoyable but very clearly not ‘real’ (which could of course spark the Film School 101 argument about what cinema is supposed to be, anyway…).

Yet it’s also neither zany, nor naïve, nor even melancholy; gently surreal, maybe, like a mild buzz from the joints Murray’s character smokes throughout. Murray has nearly perfected droll-and-despairing; one reason the movie works so well is that its pacing matches Murray’s perfectly. Anjelica Huston is, well, Anjelica Huston; Owen Wilson plays southern-sincere so syrupy that he’s almost Leslie Howard; Cate Blanchett does okay with an interesting but oddly unfinished character; Willem Dafoe gets to turn his trademark intensity on its ear; and for heaven’s sake it’s got Jeff Goldblum and Bud Cort in the same movie! What more could you ask for? It’s truly odd, but not odd in a dark way at all… if you’ll grant Anderson his conceits and just enjoy the ride, it’s a heckuva ride indeed. A-