Archive for August, 2009

Sandra Bullock, Now the Star of Your Worst Nightmares
August 10, 2009

Can we talk about All About Steve, y’all?  Seriously:

It got pushed back from March to the cinematic dumping grounds of September, which is never a good sign.  Sandra Bullock’s hair looks truly dreadful, as does Bradley Cooper’s hair.  Also, Thomas Haden Church looks to be rockin’ one ferosh fake tan, and I don’t mean that as a compliment.  All About Steve looks like a hackneyed comedy with a dialed-up-to-obnoxious level of quirk and haircuts that look like they styled with a weed whacker, but I’ll go there: It looks entirely passable as a rental from Netflix.  

I find Sandra Bullock to be incredibly appealing actress.  She certainly needs to make better career choices, but I imagine the roles available to women that are over 40 and aren’t Meryl Streep make for some pretty slim pickings.  Hollywood tends to be sexist like that, so I’m not about to fault her for just trying to keep busy.

However, I will gladly fault her for the poster for All About Steve.  Because it’s going to haunt my dreams for weeks to come:


You’re Tearing Me Apart, Copyright Laws!!!
August 10, 2009

It’s no lie that I tend to find the fickle nature of YouTube clips and their battles with copyright law to be terribly annoying.  I can’t stand that any music video that falls under ownership of the Universal Music Group cannot be embedded, and the same goes for the trailers and clips of anything owned by Disney.  This explains the disappearance of Shmathan’s favorite clip on parenticide, which was surreptitiously removed from YouTube on account of copyright infringement, but that doesn’t make it any less annoying.  Or confusing, for that matter.  I personally would rather not want to claim any credit for such an embarrassingly ridiculous clip, but that’s just me.

Anyways, it’s with a heavy heart that I must today announce that the Powder Blue clips have been taken down from YouTube.  Yes, the glistening gems that inspired much camp glee have been taken from us.  I’d like to think all my ridiculous ranting and raving in some way preserved some of the train-wreckery that graced this blog, but I can’t help but feel like there’s now a Powder-Blue-shaped hole in my heart.  Of course, these clips cannot compare to the glorious Godawfulness that is watching Powder Blue in its entirety, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to put my cranky pants on over this situation.  Sure, I cannot claim to understand the finer nuances of the legal matters behind this indecency, but I can Photoshop up some indignation with the best of them:


The Magnum Opus of Nobody Puts Baby In A Horner: Reactions to Powder Blue
August 9, 2009

Well, dear readers.  It is Saturday night, and the work week is done.   Nothing remains other than a complete and utter surrender…to excess.  The wine is chilled, the movies are bad, and the desserts are filled with empty calories.  So without further ado, let me introduce you to…

Ladies of Leisure

Allow me to introduce your hostesses this evening.  I am Shmathana, Comtesse de Homósexualitat and joining me is her exalted majesty, Benjilina, Duchess of Gaylandia.  And this evening, it is our delight and privilege to bring you at last, and as so long promised, the official Nobody Puts Baby In A Horner review of…Powder Blue.   You’ve longed for it.  You’ve dreamt of it.  And now, it is within your reach.  Yes dear readers…

And without further ceremony, let’s pop the bottles, and dive right in! (Please Note, this post is NSFBM…Not Safe For Benji’s Mom)


BREAKING NEWS: Somebody’s Been Getting Some Blog Love!
August 8, 2009

Oh dear, I think I have a histrionic homoment coming on, y’all:

Why the sudden ridiculousness?

Well, I’m not one to usually toot my own horn.  Mostly because it just sounds dirty, but also because I like to maintain at least some sense of modesty.  That all said, I can now inform you that–should you find yourself in these interweb nether regions of batshit insanity, camp appreciation, pop culture dissection, and general bitchery–you are indeed at a blog of awesome.  See:

blog of awesome

Once it’s written on the internet, it becomes fact.  Duh.  At least I’m pretty certain how that works.

More importantly, no good shout-out should go unreturned, and so I highly recommend heading over to BluEyedDaizy.  Her musings are eloquent, intelligent, and frequently hilarious.  It’s great stuff, filled with witty observation about life, politics, and pop culture.  Personally speaking, though, she had me at “piñata.”

I Guess There Truly Is No Such Thing as a Stupid Question
August 8, 2009

Remember that one time at blog camp when I accepted the fact that I was going to see Post Grad because of its impressive trifecta of attractive male leads, excellent supporting cast members, and an infectious final song at the trailer’s end?  Sure, that song has elsewhere been described as mediocre, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t grab you by your ovaries (real or imaginary) and make you swell up with the sort of emotional angst and swooning romanticism that can only happen when your pop culture diet includes Josh-Schwartz-produced teen soap operas and the entirety of of Mandy Moore’s filmography.  Seriously, it’s the trailer song that just doesn’t quit (at turning you into an teenage girl):

Oh man, is it my heavy flow day for my wide-set vagina?  Nope, it’s just the inimitable sounds of Carolina Liar that have you rooting for Alexis Bledel to figure out her post-grad work situation and get her man.  That’s just how generipop works.

But, before I told you, I bet you too were asking yourself, “Just what the hell is that damn song in the Post Grad trailer?” when you first heard it.  I asked that question months ago and Shmathan quickly provided the answer.  Little did I know I’d apparently asked my first Hard-Hitting Question, a question that hits so hard that plenty of others (likely teenage girls) found themselves Googling the same question.  And so now there’s this:


It’s Official: Where the Wild Things Are Is My Favorite Movie of 2009
August 7, 2009

I don’t even care that Where the Wild Things Are isn’t out for another two months.  Actually, I do care because I’m over-it-and-a-half with this whole “patience” thing.  Seriously, the first trailer has been around since the end of March!  MARCH!!!  Spike Jonze, the madness must stop!  Even from the first teaser, I was convinced:

where the wild things are the bestest

So convinced from the get go.  But now?  I’m double-convinced!

The  full trailer has finally arrived, and it’s chockfull of stunning imagery, the Arcade Fire goodness, and enough childhood innocence to reduce you to a blubbering mess.  Just like a bomb made of hyper-concentrated nostalgia for the halcyon days of youth, it’s pretty much designed to make a teary-eyed believer out of even the staunchest of cynics.  So have you got your Kleenexes ready?  Good.

Let’s do this thing:


Thank You, John Hughes
August 7, 2009

I’m pretty much at a loss for words about yesterday’s sad news.  John Hughes left a long and memorable imprint on popular cinema in a way that few filmmakers ever have or will, and his passing is a reminder of that indelible mark; nevertheless, because we all remember his movies and how they matter to us in very different ways, it seems foolish to wax nostalgic about his body of work so broadly.  Yes, John Hughes made movies that were broad in their appeal, but they were smart and sincere and–like any great piece of pop culture–capable of making you feel like they spoke straight to your own experience.  As such, I feel it apropos to share a few personal reflections on his work, and I encourage you to do the same in the comments.

My first significant experience with John Hughes as ’80s teen movie master was the sci-fi/teen-comedy masterpiece Weird Science.  I saw it in the mid ’90s, back when USA ran the comedy series of the same name and premise.  Most of the film’s humor indubitably went over my head, but even then I could appreciate Kelly LeBrock’s bawdy fierceness as she asks the lingerie saleswoman for something in barbed wire, and sweet mercy will I always love the Oingo Boingo theme song:

When you think about it, it was only natural for me to love a movie that’s essentially about two teenage boys who recreate The Bride of Frankenstein and end up creating the ultimate British dream fag hag.  Whoops, I mean girlfriend.


Mad Men Takes New York. Benjamin Inevitably Wets His Pants
August 6, 2009

In case you didn’t know, I’ve something of a Mad Men obsession.  Is it the 1960s aesthetic?  The artful way dramatic tension builds both over individual episodes and the entire season?  Is it simply my inimitable love for the World’s Second Greatest Joan?  Je ne sais pas, but it’s probably all of these reasons and an endless slew of others.  So you can only imagine my reaction on the subway yesterday when I read that New York Magazine is co-sponsoring a slew of themed events centering around my chief obsession.  Yup:

mad men fans

That subway cop was NOT amused one bit.

But really, it’s almost too much to be true.  Hell, it is too much to be true!  Take a trip to the Hilton New York for a selection of vintage cocktails inspired by Mad Men?  Why, I simply must pretend I work at Sterling Cooper and go to there for lunch!  And then return that evening for more cocktails and a video installation projects 1960s vintage ads on the side of the Museum of Arts and Design?  That may be a bad idea, so let’s do that on a Friday!  

As for the Mets game?  Well, I’m not going unless I’m guaranteed a fedora, so I’ll just pass.  It’s not like I’d actually go to watch the game!  HA!

The pièce de résistance, though, is the main reason I simply can’t contain myself:


Instead of Going to See G.I. Joe: Rise of the Cobra, Why Not Rent Obsessed?
August 6, 2009

Recessions, y’all.  They’re the worst.  The economy’s a bailout black hole, unemployment rates just seem to keep rising, and movies are a leisure that are increasingly unworthy of the $12.50 price of admission.  Yeesh!  Who wants to pay that much money for a movie about terminating robots, or a movie about transforming robots, or a movie talking guinea pigs (that, given this summer’s crappy movie trend, might also be robots)?  And this weekend we get G.I. Joe: Rise of the Cobra, which is not about robots, but looks to include robot suits and performances that are equally stiff:

Admittedly this looks more mediocre than flat-out terrible, and one could argue that Sienna Miller’s quip about shoes is a welcomed moment of camp, but mediocrity is rarely worth $12.50.  Instead, might I suggest renting the camp ridiculousness that is Obsessed?  Sure, I already reviewed it months ago, but now it’s out on DVD, and that means you’ve no excuse not to see it!  Just look at Beyonce give good (bitch)face and tell me it’s not worth the meager cost of a rental:

obsessed beyonce face

But wait, there’s more!  So much more!


There’s No Way I Won’t Be Seeing I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell
August 5, 2009

Holiday!  Celebrate!!!  There’s a trailer for the film adaptation of the book adaptation of the blog by the one-man awful machine know as Tucker Max.  Indulge your curiosity in seeing just what depths of monstrousness humanity can dive to and watch this train wreck:

Sweet mercy does this movie looks like a bona fide UGHapalooza!  I’m not going to even bother explaining to you why I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell looks positively terrible; its terribleness is self-explanatory.  I know I’m the antithesis of its target audience, and I’m certain I will simply loathe it, but a movie this mind-blowingly egregious is the sort of rare spectacle that I must witness.  

For free, of course.

No no, I would sooner start training for Olympic muff diving than see my money go to Tucker Max.  He’s already built an empire on encouraging frat boys to be misogynistic assholes, so I won’t be financially encouraging his behavior.  Hell, I refuse to be bothered paying for a bootleg, that’s how neanderthallic this movie looks.  Instead, I’ll sneak into a theater to kill my last remaining shreds of faith in humanity.  It’s just my blog cross to bear, y’all.  Mine to bear, and yours to enjoy.

That said, I must admit that it’s rather disappointing that Richard Kelly is producing this movie.  I can only hope that he’s doing this ironically and that I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell is in fact a razor-edged satire against Tucker Max’s repugnant behavior.  Otherwise, this can only mean one thing:


The P.C. Police Need to Calm Down About Orphan; or, Disclaimer Is the New Black
August 5, 2009

orphan controversy

I had every intention of simply ignoring the whole story about how adoption groups have been getting all pissy about Orphan much in the way I ignored when the gays got cranky over Brüno.  This was in part because I actually want to revisit Brüno when it’s out on DVD to really take a nuanced look at that controversy (though my initial reaction was that it was hysterical, and its graphic sexuality and general flamboyance were more subversive than damnig), so I’d prefer to make a well-rationed argument as opposed to a knee-jerk rant.

Oh, and there’s also the fact that the call for an Orphan disclaimer may be one of the dumbest things I’ve heard in my entire life.

So when the story popped back up today at Celebitchy yesterday like a killer in a horror movie coming back for one last scare, I kinda felt the need to address it as both a fan of the movie, a serious love for film, and a person with both a modicum of intelligence.  In order to have this discussion, though, we must address Esther’s much ballyhooed secret, so consider yourself SPOILER ALERTED.

The case against Orphan, as laid out in the following quote (which was originally reported by Fox News Pop Tarts), is precisely everything irksome about activists groups complaining about movies:


Blessed Saints We Are Saved!
August 5, 2009

Rejoice my friends!  Open your ears and partake of my glorious news!  I know, dear readers, that we live in Dark Times.   The Twihard Hordes roam our lands unchecked, carrying with them the Sparkle Inquisition, demanding loyalty to their new religion and sacrificing unbelievers before shrines of Edward Cullen as they read from their Dark Tomes of Fanfic.  But hope, it seems, is on the horizon.  Perhaps the old divinities have strove at last to free the cowered masses from the Brooding Usurper, and now offer us the promise of salvation.  For you see, I have heard my friends a call that rang out from the heavens, with the news that there will be Twilight MMORPG.

I know your fears, gentle readers.  Will not the power of the Twihards grow even more?  Will not a Massively Multiplayer Online Role Playing Game allow their domination of the internet to expand still farther?  Nay, friend.  Calm your mind.  For it is the nature of evil to turn upon itself, to indulge its rapacious appetite with such reckless abandon that it can at last only turn in upon itself.  And here today, the forces of Twidom have done just that, and sown the seeds of their own destruction.

For the MMORPG is a demanding mistress, as many a wizened geek will tell you.  Once begun, it cannot be cast aside lightly.  It haunts your thoughts, your dreams, subordinates all desires and needs to its whims.  It makes life nothing more than a pale shadow, a tortured existence as you continuously slave away to level up just once more or find that rare item or complete that hidden quest.  And now the foolish Twihards have sought out its powers, seeking in their zealotry to see Twidom given form.  It is a trap from whence they shall not return.

They shall come before their computers reverently, and offer their souls to the Twilight.  They shall spend their days and nights wandering the pixelated dusk as vampire or werewolf, living out the dark fancies of their twisted hearts.  And then they shall be as the living dead.  For when the might of the MMORPG is joined with that of the Brooding Usurper, an unholy power shall rise from the depths of the abyss, and bind those caught in its web for all eternity.  They shall not eat, they shall not sleep.  And no more shall they go forth into the world to spread the bile of their false doctrine.  The Sparkle Inquisition will fail, enmeshed by its own fanaticism.  And we, dear readers, will be free.

So keep the faith, friends.  Salvation is on the horizon.  And there will be much rejoicing:

Your steadfast servant,


PS-The use of the Return of the Jedi: Special Edition version of the ending theme, complete with the statue of Benji’s blogging alter ego, Emperor Palpatine, being torn down is in no way meant to suggest that Shmathan believes Benji’s blog empire is crumbling or that Shmathan intends to pull a Darth Vader and toss him into a Death Star reactor.  This week, anyway.

Drop Dead Delightful
August 4, 2009

As has been alleged and avowed, I am a geek, and I am pretty damn gay.  Often, these two facets of my personality come together in celebration of life’s grandest things.  Whether it be my comic book inspired love of Daniel Cudmore, or my adoration of Jane Austen and Zombies, gay geekery has brought many wonderful things into my life.  And today, I share my latest discovery.


You see, I am currently indulging in that most glorious of pursuits:  the staycation.  With the bar exam  now nothing more than an unpleasant memory, and month before I enter the gentlemanly practice of law for the rest of eternity, I have nothing to do but sprawl out on the couch and enjoy about a month’s worth of DVR’ed TV ranging from re-runs of the The Big Bang Theory to HGTV’s Design Star.   Included on the list is the latest effort from Lifetime, whose fine programming has entertained housewives and homos for years.

The moment I saw previews for this small-screen gem, I knew I would love it.  I have to admit, I have a love of trashy legal shows.  It is a closely guarded secret, but the path to my legal career began when  fourteen year-old baby gay Shmathan first viewed Ally McBeal.  It made corporate law seem fun and full of wacky hijinx.  Those false expectations aside, I owe my law degree to Calista Flockhart’s short skirted escapades.   So obviously, I am always eager to watch whatever legal comedy television has to offer, and Drop Dead Diva delivered in spades.


Set Your Anticipation to Campalicious: Carla Gugino’s Joined Zack Snyder’s SuckerPunch
August 4, 2009

Watchmen, the 168-minutes of moving images that was less a coherent film narrative so much as a cinematic summary of the events of Alan Moore’s acclaimed graphic novel, was one of the few movies that has effectively stayed with me since I saw it in theaters.  That’s less an endorsement of excellence so much as an admission that I find the movie to be an unsolvable puzzle.  I’ve rewatched it nearly half-a-dozen times since it came out on DVD, and though it is terribly faithful as an adaptation, I still feel like it never quite comes together in the way it should.

That said, Carla Gugino stole the show with her boozy Sally Jupiter.  It was camp, to be sure, but not the sort of camp rooted in being terrible.  No no, it’s the sort of camp that comes from being ferociously unrestrained.  Think Sister Ruth from Black Narcissus, but less Technicolor red lipstick and a much higher BAC.  Seriously, Ms. Gugino, should you ever find this blog on account of a Google alert, please know:

carla gugino fabulous

ANYWAYS, my major frustration with Watchmen was the lack of giving her little else to do in that movie beyond getting almost raped.  Blech.  Thankfully, though, I was looking over the headlines at this morning and read that she’ll be joining the cast of Zack Snyder’s upcoming SuckerPunch.  But what exactly is SuckerPunch about?  Well, here’s article’s plot summary:


The (Zombie) Beatles Will Be Your New Favorite Band
August 3, 2009

You know what has caused countless generations to just totally lose their shit and embrace their inner hot mess?

beatles fan

You know what else has caused countless generations (of nerds) to just totally lose their shit and embrace their inner hot mess?

zombies fan

But zombies are no longer just for nerds, y’all!  Between box office successes like 28 Days Later and Dawn of the Dead and big-deal books like World War Z and the Shmathan-approved Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, it seems that zombies have wormed (pun intended ‘cos it’s a joke about decomposing bodies, GET IT???)  their way into the popular zeitgeist.  

Now, according to a piece The Guardian, the Beatles will get their own zombie mashup with the book Paul Is Undead: The British Zombie Invasion:


Shakira Has Just Ridicudanced Her Way into My Heart
August 3, 2009

Ridicudancing, y’all.  Whether it’s the sensational moves of Nomi Malone or the sublime artistry of Sara Carlson, I love it when someone burns when they dance.  That said, it’s hard to find truly excellent ridicudancing.  There’s plenty of bad dancing, for sure, but great ridicudancing only happens when the proper proportions of talent, batshit crazy vision, and a total lack of inhibition combine.  It’s truly like chemistry, and judging by the video for “She Wolf,” Shakira has mastered the science.

Admittedly, saying that Shakira’s dance moves are ridiculous is like commenting on how blue the sky is, but trust me when I say that the moves she busts out in this video are truly avant garde in their insanity.    Maybe it’s helped by the fact that “She Wolf” is an inherently ludicrous (yet insanely catchy) pop song about lycanthropy as metaphor for ladies having a case of the hornies, and we all know ridicusongs demand ridicudancing.  Whatever the case, you simply must click the picture and take a ride on Shakira’s crazy train.  Seriously:

shakira she wolf

Whoah there, lady friend.  I don’t even know where to begin with this one, but that doesn’t mean I can’t try!


Internet, Make (Alternate) Dynasty Happen!
August 3, 2009

Remember yesterday’s nightmare?  How could you forget it?  It’s sadly burnt itself into my memory for all eternity.  Sweet mercy was it the worst!

Fortunately for us, the internet is sorta like Newton’s third law of motion, and so for every nightmarish thing that should not exist there is a brilliantly insane thing that most certainly should exist.  Such is the case of this video for an alternate opening for Dynasty, which envisions what I’m pretty certain is an even better version of Dynasty than the one that already exists.  Seriously:

Mon dieu!  All that genius has temporarily stunted my capacity to speak in English, so I’m stuck with responding in French: 


Things That Should Not Exist: The Duck Tales Video of Your Nightmares
August 2, 2009

I’m sorry, but these are my eyeballs right now:


But, let’s keep this in mind, most certainly not in the fun way.  No no, quite the opposite, really.  Why?  Because I’ve seen the interweb’s greatest nightmare-generator/nostalgia-killer/life-ruiner.  It starts innocently enough, but then just spirals into batshit insanity.  It’s not necessarily unsafe for work, but it’s certainly not safe for my mother.

Also, I’m pretty sure that this video’s already made the rounds, but that doesn’t necessarily guarantee that you’ve see it, so here you go.  As it’s wont to love company, here’s a little misery for your Sunday afternoon.  And if you’ve seen it already, just consider it salt on your mind wound:


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