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Even superheroines, those paragons of unrealistic and unattainable bodies whose depictions in comic books have permanently skewed the expectations of generations of fanboys, aren’t immune to feelings of insecurity, with many of them too distracted to fight the criminals, evil geniuses, and superpowered thugs that plague our fair cities each and every day. Worrying that their skintight leather, lycra, or nylon costumes are unflattering means that many of our most gorgeous heroines are opting for fatigues, capes, and even business suits to hide their justice-delivering figures. When will this madness end? Not soon enough for this reporter, who holds on to cherished memories of superheroines of ages past who thought nothing of fighting for The American Way in high heels, short skirts, and push-up bras.
In a sign that Mickey Rourke’s bad-boy days aren’t entirely behind him, the Academy Award nominee has proposed that the tight competition for Best Actor be settled by an old-school wrestling match. “This promises to be one of the toughest races Oscar has seen in years,” said the star of The Wrestler, the best-reviewed but least honoured movie of 2008, “and it only seems fair that the eventual winner should really have to earn the title.” The category has everything: Pretty Boy Whose Looks Overshadow His Talent (Brad Pitt), Pure Talent Whose Intensity Intimidates Everyone (Sean Penn), Guy Who Everyone Has Seen In Some Movie But Couldn’t Name If Their Lives Depended On It (Richard Jenkins), and Dude Who Played Dracula and Skeletor (Frank Langella). Rourke sees his best chance coming down to a sheer test of physical strength and stamina: “Fight Club? C’mon–who couldn’t beat up Edward Norton?” Little does he know that Richard Jenkins was a Green Beret before making his big-screen debut in the 1985 western Silverado.
This recording of Christian Bale screaming at the lighting guy on the set of the Terminator movie is everywhere, and completely overblown. I’m sure many of us have had arguments at work which we’d be embarrassed to have made public, and thank God no one was recording us. Hell, I’ve had protracted screaming and cursing fits at inanimate objects on plenty of occasions–I’m glad no one was taping last week’s rant when I accused Microsoft Excel of being completely unprofessional. At least the lighting guy could defend himself.
Dakota Fanning was a guest on The Late Show with David Letterman tonight, discussing her new movie “Coraline”. She walked out wearing shorts and showing a lot of leg–she’s fourteen folks–and Paul and the Band played “Young Girl” as her entrance music, with no comment by anyone. “Young girl, get out of my mind, my love for you is way out of line… you better run girl–you’re much too young girl.” There’s a largely overlooked tradition of bandleaders and ballpark organists playing songs that subtly mock the guest or opponent, because no one’s paying attention to the music. Mr. Paul Shaffer, you are a genius.
Ms. Fanning’s latest project is playing Cherie Currie opposite Kristen Stewart’s Joan Jett in the new movie The Runaways.
It’s probably going too far to say that George Bush won’t tolerate criticism (his supporters are another matter); he simply for the most part ignores it. If he acknowledges criticism it’s most likely to respond that history will be his judge. Likewise, Nickelback can point to the charts or album sales in response to criticism of their music as juvenile and banal. Don’t believe either George Bush or Nickelback: you are totally justified in believing they suck.