Wednesday, November 30, 2005

El arbol es en fuego!

Before (not Christmas):




After (Christmas!):

Monday, November 28, 2005

Thanksgiving weekend movies that surprisingly aren't so bad

Part one: Rent.



I rolled my eyes when I learned they were making this into a movie -- a movie starring 35-year-olds -- but I actually sort of loved it. To be sure, there are plenty of reasons to criticize both Rent the stage production and Rent the film, some of which hold no water with me and some of which are disturbing and compelling. But in the end, it's about friendship, love, community, energy and some darned catchy songs, and I just can't hate it, or believe that Jonathan Larson did his community a disservice by penning it and putting it on a stage.

I don't think Rent sells out its serious subjects or real-life counterparts any more than any musical ever did. Did soldiers and rebels actually mark the French Revolution with big production numbers? When history books reflect upon the Vietnam War, do they focus on the hot action goin' down at the Saigon strip clubs? If you take issue with Rent on this front, then you take issue with the genre in general (which, I suppose, many people do).

Watching the film from a suburban multiplex, it made me long to get back to New York. Even if it only represents a fantastical, made-for-Broadway version of the city; even though the filmmakers superimposed Mars Bar on the middle of a block, my heart swelled every time the camera panned across rooftops dotted with watertowers. The city, if not entirely accurate, was recognizable. (That includes the late-'80s-even-more-ghetto-than-today F train.)

Also, who is cuter than Anthony Rapp? Practically no one.

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

Spotted: Sandy Cohen!

Peter Gallagher (AND HIS EYEBROWS) dropped by my office today!!



He had no business with me, but an intrepid coworker and I did manage to do a walk-by of the meeting and catch a glimpse. He was resplendent in a green mock turtleneck.

Not everyone shared in our display of elation over Sandy Cohen's visit, which is puzzling and sad. If we can't muster excitement over the real-life manifestations of primetime soap opera characters, then what have we got in this world?

Nothing, people. Nothing at all.

(boom) LOST!














So, public opinion overwhelmingly dictates that bitchy Shannon is the one who dies on Lost tonight. Apparently the answer was posted on some horrendous spoiler-propagating website. Which I DID NOT READ, because I am vehmently anti-spoiler. I prefer to remain blissfully in the dark about my television drama. If being anti-spoiler were a religious sect, I would be part of its Pentecostal denomination.

UPDATE: She died. (Or did she?!?!) I hope that didn't spoil it for anyone.

Monday, November 07, 2005

NY Marathon '05: I saw the balls

They were running down the other side of 4th Avenue, so I didn't get a picture. Luckily, someone else did!

I, of course, took the requisite fuzzy cameraphone photos.

So when we first got down there ("there" being the corner of 4th and, oh, 13th or so in Brooklyn), just a couple lone runners were striding by and I thought maybe we'd missed most of it. There was a makeshift band set up across the street under that green awning -- a guy, a girl, their toddler, a guitar, a keyboard and an amp -- and they were playing a Radiohead cover. It was all rather apocalyptic.

And then, all of a sudden, runners started appearing in surges.




It was a very cool sight to behold. We were standing at about Mile 8, so most of the runners were still in high spirits. Two French guys linked arms and were dance-running down the street together. ("They're European," someone behind me said aloud.)



The spectators to my left passed out Kleenex for brow-wiping. Radiohead was eventually drowned out by some canned yet festive Ricky Martin. Further down the street, a band of crunchy hippies formed a drum circle (are there any notable civic events that hippies don't see fit to celebrate with a drum circle?) and people hung off their porches and windows and balconies like they were welcoming troops home from war.

I'd never come out for the marathon before, but it might just replace the U.S. Open on my list of warmest, fuzziest sporting events. If only there had been spicy fries...

Thursday, November 03, 2005

Bombs over MoDo

Oh, snap! Slate gets all up in MoDo's business:

Is Maureen Dowd Necessary? - The Times op-ed columnist adds nothing to the debate between the sexes. By Katie Roiphe


Incidentally, this piece nails everything I can't stand about MoDo the columnist. But in defense of MoDo the girlfriend, I must protest that Carrie Bradshaw never had to put up with this shit.

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

MoDo Rising

Haven't you heard? It's Maureen Dowd week!

New York Times - What's a Modern Girl to Do?

New York - Maureen Dowd's Dangerous Charm

I've never counted myself as a Maureen Dowd fan; even when I agree with the gist of what she's saying in her op eds, I'm often turned off by the way she says it. The Times Magazine piece was a bit different, though. It was thoughtful (seven online pages' worth of thoughtful, in fact), and it struck a chord with some of the women I know, and it at least makes me feel compelled to steal a glance at her new book, but more than that -- it gave me new insight into the heretofore obscure mind and world of MoDo.

Maureen Dowd was never one of those "grubby, unisex jeans and no-makeup" feminists. Maureen Dowd and her girlfriends have had their share of guy trouble. Maureen Dowd is -- gasp! -- like Carrie Bradshaw!

And then I read Ariel Levy's profile of her in this week's New York, which aroused in me the sneaking -- and not a little unnerving -- suspicion that Maureen Dowd might be kind of awesome. I totally want to hang with her and her NY Times girl gang, cruising the Creme de la Mer counter at Saks and dishing about Pulitzers and ex-boyfriends with Alessandra and "Michi." We'd play practical jokes on John Tierney and guffaw about it afterward while shopping for stilettos!

Alas, MoDo, I never knew ye, and now it's too late. You're behind the wall of Times Select, and I may never get to read your column again. I mean, unless I buy the actual print version of the New York Times (ha!).

In the meantime, can we have a follow-up column on that Times article? I still have no idea who should pay for my profiteroles.

Our Asian hero

Ever wondered how Hideki Matsui, least ostentatious of Yankee outfielders, spends his hard-earned paychecks? My roommate just wrote with the following:

"Time Magazine's Asian edition recently did a cover story on AsianHeroes, one of whom is Yankee outfielder Hideki Matsui. And let's just say Matsui really apparently enjoys his Cinemax After Dark among American innovations.

" 'Indeed, his only eccentricity, if it can be called that, is his extensive private library of adult videos. His refreshing ability to laugh self-deprecatingly about his porno collection, reporters say, is one reason why fans and even non fans have taken to him so much. Says former reporter Isao Hirooka: 'Hideki just wants to be like ordinary people.' '

"Even odder is that in the very next paragraph, Matsui is described ashaving, "meaty, calloused hands."


Ew. But he's still my Asian hero!

TIMEasia - Asian heroes