Important Things to Pontificate While We Try and Play Catch-Up: Is Mad Men Too Sexist?
August 9, 2010

Oh man, y’all.  If there’s one thing that’s great about summer Fridays at my place of work, it’s that I get every other Friday off of work.  If there’s one thing that’s not the new hotness, however, it’s that putting in the extra hours to get those precious Fridays off has made me a raggedy-ass bitch when it comes to tending to this particular corner of the interwebs.  Blog productivity has shamelessly fallen to the wayside, egregious errors have been made, and I still haven’t gotten around to discussing the eagerly anticipated/probable train wreck that is Burlesque.  Sure, this little blog may not buy my bacon and eggs, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel obliged to those of you out there who so kindly indulge my crazy.  Anyways, apologies are like the Lost series finale (obligatory, yet wholly unfulfilling), so point being: IT’S TIME TO BUST SOME BLOG ASS AND START GETTING CAUGHT UP ON EVERYTHING.  (That’s my motivational speaker voice.)

In the mean time, though, let’s all ponder the following important question:

I remain of the opinion that there’s no such thing as being too sexist Mad Men strives to create an accurate–not revisionist–portrait of the 1960s, and leveling charges of sexism at Mad Men confuses the sexual and gender politics of the era with those of the show itself.  Mad Men‘s “sexism” is in fact a meta-commentary on sexism, if you will, but that’s just my interpretation.   That being said, let’s go watch a short video that attempts to get to heart of the matter:

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The Music Video for Brandon Flowers’s “Crossfire” Has Got EVERYTHING
July 8, 2010

I’m not kidding, either.  The video for “Crossfire,” the first single off Brandon Flower’s forthcoming solo album Flamingo, has got action:

And ninjas!

It’s got Brandon Flowers as a man-damsel in distress:

Scruffy man-damsel deliciousness!

But most importantly, it’s got Charlize Theron (whaaa!?!):

And–f*ck yeah!–more ninjas!  Seriously, ladies and gentlemen, what more could ask for?  That’s right: NOTHING.  So sit back and enjoy “Crossfire,” y’all:

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Nobody Puts Baby in a Horner’s Anecdote Corner: On Sportiness
March 18, 2010

When one of my coworkers today jokingly commented how I kicked a foil ball like a girl (don’t ask), I realized how terribly unflattering that comment is.  To girls.  Have you ever seen a girl play soccer?  And I’m not even talking professional soccer.  The girls that make up the reject team for the local little league soccer team probably have a more effective sense of foot-eye coordination.  Seriously, some days it’s a small miracle I haven’t yet died going up a flight of stairs.  But I digress.

My point is, I’m all for critiquing my kick style, but let’s keep it a little less gendered and a little more on the nose.  Or in other words, I kick like a drag queen on quaaludes and crutches.  RECOGNIZE!

The Final Poster for The Ugly Truth Gives Me a Headache
July 6, 2009

Sometimes I editorialize images I find on the internet with pithy comments in pink letters.  But sometimes there’s an image that  speaks entirely for itself.  Such is the case of the final poster for The Ugly Truth, which I spotted on the streets while walking to the bank this afternoon:

ugly truth final poster

Yes, ladies and gents, it speaks for itself, and it says, “UGH.”  Even though this is essentially the same thing as the teaser poster (but now with actors),it’s still an embarrassment to anyone with a brain.  Or genitals.

Women love love, so Katherine Heigl’s holding her heart as an object unto itself.  And men love sex, so Gerard Butler’s holding his heart over his business while he lustily smirks at Katherine Heigl.  The lesson?  Men love you to take a ride on their discostick, so do it now in order to make them like you, ladies.  Don’t worry that this probably means they’re emotionally unavailable Neanderthal man-children; just give them a trip down your tunnel of love, and the sparks will be flying!

Look, I fully understand that movies like The Ugly Truth are intended to be light-hearted comedies that deliberately embrace tired gender stereotypes as opposed to having the creativity or intelligence required in saying something innovative about how men and women emotionally and romantically connect, but this Gender Wars 101 bullshit is the dead horse that’s been so thoroughly beaten that all you’ve got in front of you is a bucket of glue.  Never mind the trailer; this poster is so boring I damn near had a narcoleptic fit on Sixth Avenue.

More importantly, though, is how incredibly misogynistic these reductive gender politics are.

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Thanks to Google Image Search, We Can Now Bask in the Weirdness of The Frightened Woman
June 15, 2009

I’m no internet technician, so I can’t attest to understanding the precise ways that a Google image search works, but I do know that often times the results can delight and confuse in equal measure.  Mostly because they make no sense.  

So color me par-for-the-course when a recent search for “frightened woman” gave me this:

frightened woman

Naturally.

A colorful art installations meant to represent the mythical vagina dentata under a search for “frightened woman” is supposed to be representative of a frightened woman?  Frightening, for sure, but hardly frightened.  Or maybe the teeth are like a rattle snake’s rattle, so maybe she is frightened?  I just don’t know.  The lady bits are nature’s great mystery to me, and I fully intend to keep it that way.

But that’s not to say that I won’t still click a link to try and figure out what in the hell is going on, and I’m glad I did.

It turns out that said above image is from a late-60s Italian movie called The Frightened Woman.  According to DVD Times, it’s an erotic exploration of sadomasochism and gender politics set, and the look is apparently steeped in a 60s deco aesthetic.  In other words, it’s trash art with subtitles, and nothing about the movie’s trailer can convince me otherwise:

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For Fans of Trash TV, The Cougar is Your New Favorite Show. Period.
April 9, 2009

Someone in the television industry has clearly been working quite hard to make the absolutely worst piece of television ever.  After much work, though, they look to have finally succeeded.  Seriously.  The Cougar is part competitive reality dating show, part novelty pop-culture buzz word obsession, and a few dashes of totally busted faux-progressive gender politics to spice things up.  I need to find a new phrase other than “train wreck,” because hot damn does that phrase not do this nonsense justice.  Just look at this thing:

This show is like the train wreck of the future, where trains fly through space and are powered by nuclear engines, and then one day several of these space trains crash into each other and create a terrible nuclear explosion that showers the land below with flaming wreckage and radioactive fallout, yet throughout this whole terrible moment you JUST.  CAN’T.  TURN AWAY!  This mess is beyond epic, y’all; it’s bonafide life-changing.  Paradigms are shifting and bars are being raised and Vivica A. Fox needs to find a new agent like it’s nobody’s business.

The Cougar promises to have it all when it comes to the worst in television.  There’s the 20 desperate/pathetic tools spouting utter nonsense (“Stacey is like a gray squirrel I just want to pounce on!” may be the first great simile of the 21st century).  There’s the painfully ludicrous attempt by producers to sell the show as something radical and new (“Welcome to a show that will change everything you know about love, relationships, and getting older” is clearly the most profoundly true interpretation of this show that we shall ever know).  There’s also the tantalizing promise of a bevy of hot 20-something guys taking their shirts off for our collective (collective meaning “strictly gay men and their favorite gal pals”) viewing.

Mostly, though, there’s the Cougar, Stacey.  According to TV Land’s website, Stacey is “a successful and determined realtor” and “a beautiful, blonde mother of four.”  She’s also your fag hag.

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Looks Like David Hayter Will Not Be Invited to Take Back the Night
March 11, 2009

david-hayter-gross

As Videogum noted, one of Watchmen‘s scribes, David Hayter, has posted an open letter on the internet imploring fans to see the movie again this weekend to keep box office up and therefore make studio heads feel confident in green lighting future Watchmen-esque projects.  Much of Hayter’s argument requires him to indulge in a little self-congratulatory ego masturbation, because that’s how you make a convincing argument.  For example:

I’ve seen it twice now, and despite having run the movie in my head thousands of times, my two viewings still don’t’ allow me to view the film with the proper distance or objectivity. Is it Apocalypse Now? Is it Blade Runner? Is it Kubrick, or Starship Troopers? I don’t know yet.

I’m gonna go for d) none of the above.  And also, Mr. Hayter: Kubrick is a filmmaker, so he probably shouldn’t be in a list that consists of movie titles.  But maybe that’s a stylistic choice irksome only to me, so I won’t dwell.

I certainly agree with his sentiment that, particularly when it comes to the film industry, you cast a vote every time you purchase a ticket.  It’s rather tacky that he has to be the one to make this plea for audiences to see Watchmen again; the movie’s as much his (ridicu)baby as it is Snyder’s, so Hayter’s essentially one of those parents with those awful bumper stickers on their vans about how their child’s on honor roll or Mensa.  Except whenever he has you come over and babysit, he makes you pay him.  He’s wrapped the ugliest sales-pitch sweater in a box with lovely pity-party ribbons and glossy sophisticated-taste paper as if that makes what he’s giving you any better.  Thanks, but no thanks.

But when Hayter gets to his climax, in which he uses a particular scene from Watchmen to articulate how the movie’s supposed to be dark and challenging yet ultimately rewarding as entertainment, he completely shits his (crazy) pants:

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Finally, a Movie Review! For Friday the 13th!!!
February 17, 2009

Remember last Friday, when we were still living in a world where Friday the 13th wasn’t out in theaters yet?  Well, now we live in a brave new world where it’s out in the theaters available for mass consumption.  And just as Lost has taught us that you can’t go back in time to kill Hitler, we also can’t go back in time to stop them from making the new Friday the 13th, so I guess we should stop building that time machine and just start adjusting.  That doesn’t change one crucial fact, though:

fth13th-review1

I mean, Friday the 13th is just like Brave New World, except instead of everybody taking Soma to emotionally anesthetize themselves while worshipping Henry Ford, everybody’s taking stupid pills while worshipping boobs.  Seriously, so much of the boobs in this movie.  

But I’m not here to (only) complain about boobs.  Nope, I’m here to complain about Friday the 13th. (more…)

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