Nothing For Now

I Missed You So

As I flipped through my RSS feeds today, look what I found at the magnificent Baseball Toaster- an interview with John C. McGinley, otherwise known as Dr. Cox on Scrubs. And yes, he's a Yankees fan. *grins*

But the thing isn't all baseball talk- there's also an infuriating explanation of why my favorite hospital comedy's premiere has been delayed until next Tuesday. Read on for the incredibly stupid details.

Anyway, I have a gigantic Chanukah party to prepare for, so off I go. :)

Home, where my mind's escaping...

I'm baaaack! *watches as America cringes in horror* After thinking I'd missed my plane, being delayed for 2 hours due to "mechanical problems" (that wasn't scary...), completing about 30 Sudoku puzzles, watching the heartwarming endings of A Beautiful Mind, Seabiscuit, and Cinderella Man all in a row, and being extorted for a $3 luggage cart (shame on you, JFK), I managed to drag my exhausted butt past Customs and get home. Woohoo!

I've received a few Chanukah presents already, including way too much chocolate, which I'm trying not to munch all at once. I also went to my precious library and took out Watchmen for a school essay, a book on identity and the Internet for another paper, the first book of Neal Stephenson's Baroque Cycle because what I need is another 900-page techno-historical fiction head trip, The Red and the Black because it's referenced in A Little Night Music and I'm pathetic enough to think of that as a Sondheim product endorsement, and Preludes and Nocturnes because I've delayed my reading of Sandman for far too long. *pant* *pant*

You know what else I want? SHOWS. Namely, Sweeney Todd. Like, now. *twitch* Also, I have many movies to see. Brokeback Mountain, The Producers, Memoirs of a Geisha, Munich, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, Syriana, Transamerica, Capote, The Dying Gaul, Match Point, Paradise Now, stuff I missed like Jarhead and Shopgirl if I can...uh, yeah. I'm not sure I even have that much money. BUT I WILL FIND A WAY. Because I'm back, baby!

Like Squeezing a Sponge

I'm trying to wring 200 more words out of my brain. Seriously, guys. You try writing 3,000 words of serious analysis on a given topic as it relates to the 1941 screwball comedy Ball of Fire. I mean, it's a cute movie with a well-written screenplay, but geez.

That's Over With

My film final consisted of a 1-hour writing session about one 5-minute clip of any of the movies we studied during the course. It went something like this. (All of my dialogue is internal.)

Me: Please not The Third Man. Anything but The Third Man.

...

Me: Okay, not Citizen Kane, either. Please?

Professor: Okay, the clip starts with the red light, so if we lined it up wrong, just ignore everything up until there.

Me: *thinks* Taxi Driver! Great!

*clip starts*

Me: Taxi montage! *furiously writes down shots*

*clip continues* *Travis enters a diner*

Me: Menacing black people! Woohoo! *scribblescribble*

*clip continues*

Me: C'mon, c'mon....SELTZER SHOT! YES!

And then I wrote a lovely essay and finished 15 minutes early. :)

Return of the Rocket

The Yankees and Red Sox are both circling tentatively around Roger Clemens, who's free to negotiate with anyone since the Astros didn't offer him arbitration, and the possibilities are intriguing.

Least interesting, of course, is if Clemens retires. He'll pitch in the World Baseball Classic then settle down and wait five years to be easily inducted into the Hall of Fame. Another option is that he'll simply wait until May, when he's allowed to negotiate with the Astros again, and join the team for the rest of the season, saving himself some wear and tear so maybe he won't collapse in September and October, as he did this year.

Then comes the really fun stuff. Clemens left Boston, then his first and only team, almost ten years ago amid bitter recriminations and accusations that he'd gotten lazy in the last few years of his contract. (Which were pretty inaccurate- he'd gotten injured, screwed by his defense, and angry at the front office, but not really lazy.) It's still considered one of the nastiest episodes in franchise history, and fans there seem to be split between those who thought Roger was mistreated and those who think the fat bum deserved everything he got. :D Ah, sports theatrics.

So imagine the hoopla if ten years, 4 Cy Youngs, and 2 World Championships later, and after having easily the lowest ERA in baseball last year, Clemens came back to the town that let him go after thirteen years of service, thinking he was in "the twilight of his career." I think a few sports columnists' heads might explode. And if he succeeded? The subsequent "Rajah"-worship would just be hilarious. So really, there's no downside to this scenario. Except...well, I'm a Yankees fan. Luckily, you can always trust Big George to sniff around any big free agent, even in his old age.

To the surprise of absolutely no one, the Yankees have made overtures to Clemens, as well. Really, you can't go hugely wrong with him- he's a fantastic pitcher who only requires a one-year commitment. And even though the rotation is the one place where the Yanks have too much depth, Clemens will easily be at least the #2 pitcher in the setup they have now. New York has its appeal for him, as well- it's the town that gave him his World Series rings, and where his (insane) elder statesman's role was cemented. He had a very good working relationship with Joe Torre and got along well with his teammates, too.

Of course, his very favorite Yankees teammate is playing for the Astros now. So really, who can say what will happen? The best story of the offseason is the guy who can't make up his mind.

A Real Heartwarming Christmas Story

Yeah, forget about cherubic children meeting Santa and learning about the spirit of the season blah blah blah. This is real, and pretty amazing from my admittedly outside perspective.

"A youth wing affiliated with Indonesia's largest Muslim group Nahdlatul Ulama, some 40 million strong, told Reuters that members would guard churches for the coming Christmas festivities and it had persuaded youths from other religions to join the project."

Indonesia is about 85% Muslim, and has been the site of some immense terrorist bombings before. So hearing about this kind of sensibility warms the shriveled cockles of my heart. Evidently this isn't the first year the group has done this, and one of their volunteers got killed by a church bombing in 2000. As far as I've seen, this has barely been publicized in the U.S. A bit of simple Google-fu reveals that this year they formed an alliance with Muhammadiyah, another major Indonsian Muslim group, to work against terrorism.

""We are cooperating with each other and with the government in order to disseminate true Islam," said Din Syamsuddin, president of Muhammadiyah. "We must control the false interpretations of jihad."

Isn't this exactly what America wants to hear? Why did I find this out through doqz' LiveJournal?

Cash Lays Down the Law

If anyone had any doubts that Brian Cashman was really taking over Yankee operations this winter, they might want to consider resting at ease. This offseason is already looking about 10 times smarter than last year's, just by virtue of the fact that the team has passed on all the mediocre free agents available and chosen to maintain flexibility instead, even if it means not filling in all the holes in the roster. Better to leave money lying around for problem-solving than to overpay for poor solutions to those problems.

So in lieu of getting new players, the Yankees have been shedding less-than-satisfactory ones like an old skin. John Flaherty, the backup catcher who couldn't hit to save his life? Gone. Kevin Brown, whose most memorable achievement as a Yankee was breaking his hand by punching a wall? Sayonara. Ruben Sierra, Matt Lawton, and Alan Embree? See ya. Surely we can build a better bench than that.

But most delightful of all- Tony Womack, quite possibly the worst full-time player in major league baseball? The offensive black hole who inexplicably stayed in the lineup for months on end? Gone. And not just gone, but traded to the Reds in exchange for two minor leaguers who might actually contribute someday. This is a classic Cashman deal, the magic trick, the deal so one-sided you can't even comprehend how the other GM was talked into it. Our man is back in the saddle, and while it might take a couple of years for him to get rid of the leftovers from winters past, he looks to be making the best of the situation he has now.

Woohoo!

Guess who got a single-type space despite a crappy lottery number and picking midyear?

Oh, yes. That would be me. And my magnificent, wonderful proxy. *blows kisses*

Seriously, I thought I was going to be stuck in housing hell for the second year in a row, but now I have a room that's on-campus and non-smoking? How much better can it get?

Okay, okay, so I'm sharing a 2-room double with a guy I've never met, and he has to walk through my room to get into his. So I guess sitting around naked is out of the question. *le sigh* But other than that? Unless Mr. Roomie #3 has serious personality issues, I'm set.

*victory dance*

Ian McKellen's panto and the Tower of London. Also, chocolate.

I'm really, really tired. Just thought I'd say that straightaway. I was once again bored out of my ever-lovin' mind in class (thank goodness term ends in a week), so after scarfing a tuna sandwich, I was glad to be off-campus.

I started by visiting the biggest Tourist Attraction Like Woah that I hadn't covered yet- the Tower of London. Which isn't really a tower. I felt less stupid knowing that in advance.

Actually, it's more of a castle...thing. With houses. Bits and pieces were added to it over a period of hundreds of years, so it's kind of a patchwork creation.

Naturally, after walking around the medieval historical bits for a while, I headed for the good stuff- the crown jewels. We weren't allowed to take photos there, but they sure were sparkly. Especially that one big honking diamond. That thing was huge.

And you know, when I go to a place that's best known for torture, domestic intrigue, and royal executions, I think ice skating. Don't you?

After the Tower, I had my first drink at a bar. Okay, it was the Harrods chocolate bar. And you're jealous. :) Sure, I paid about $7 for a mug of fancy hot chocolate, but it was really good hot chocolate. And I refrained from eating the cookies. Or going downstairs and eating the pastries. Trust me, that takes more self-control than you think.

Then it was off to the panto, probably my most English cultural experience to date.

It was kind of weird sitting with an audience that seemed to know what to do when I didn't have a clue- and the audience definitely has a role in these things. From the first moment the villian appeared, he was hissed and booed, much to my surprise. I'm not used to talking back in the theater, but I adjusted. :) There's a lot of organized backtalk here, and even a (horrible) sing-along.

The overall show was a mix of slapstick, literally groan-inducing puns, dirty talk, topical jokes, and somewhere behind all the silliness, the story of Aladdin and the princess he loves. This ain't Disney, and that's putting it mildly. For one thing, the action takes place in Peking. Why? Who the heck knows, but it's probably rooted in modern panto's Victorian origins, which probably also explains my squirms at some of the Asian stereotypes used. To be fair, most of that stuff was studiously avoided, and there was even self-conscious commentary on the fact that all the "Chinese" people...well, weren't. But that horrid sing-along consisted of demented "Chinese" lyrics, that totally prevented me from getting into the fun of it.

That said, most of the time it was easy to ignore the cultural background, especially when the script made jokes like this one, told in a laundry room:

"Oh, what have we here? It's George Bush's long johns."

"But what's this flap in the back for?"

"It's so Tony Blair can hear what he says."

That one got a roar of laughter out of the audience. :)

Alright, on to the actual performance. Neil McDermott was an endearing and athletic Aladdin- cute and slightly dim, with a solid singing voice, he spends most of the show wearing jeans and a loose shirt. But that quasi-mullet needs to go now. Kate Gillepsie's Princess matched him well in simple sweetness. The greater comic load was carried by the other characters.

Matthew Wolfenden and Andrew Spillett were amazingly acrobatic as the inept police officers Hanky and Panky, but their Beavis and Butthead act wore on me in about 20 seconds. The ending to their subplot was adorable, though. Sporting a potbelly and mustache, Frances Barber did well as Dim Sum, Aladdin's family friend and eternal voice of reason. Tee Jaye carried the small part of the genie through sheer vocal power and enunciation, not to mention really flashy entrances. The ensemble was attractive, energetic, and strong-voiced.

Roger Allam really shone as the hissable villian Abbanazar- he's probably still picking scenery out of his teeth. With a Pointy Mustache and Goatee of Evil and a wonderfully plummy speaking voice, he was easy to hate.

Ian McKellen couldn't possibly be more fabulous if he tried. Strutting the stage in a succession of ever-flashier outfits, he's clearly having the time of his life, hamming it up and basking in the audience's adulation. He has absolutely no problems milking his physical and vocal limitations for comic effect, and hearing his divine phrasing when singing "I feel witty, and pretty, and gay" almost made me piss myself. And the man moves better in high heels than I do. He makes a perfectly hideous woman, but that long, creased face is capable of about 52 expressions a minute, and he uses it to its full advantage. Kudos to him for pulling off all those costume changes, and walking around in everything from a spandex bodysuit to a glittering evening gown with perfect aplomb.

Finally, designer John Napier deserves a lot of credit for his gorgeous, extravagent-cheap sets. Everything from palaces to a jeweled cave is rendered with imagination and visual flair.

Dumbass Headline

CNN.com - Man killed after bomb claim at airport

Now, that's a nice, accurate headline. But that's not what my RSS feed said. It said "Man's luggage exploded on tarmac".

Now, strictly speaking, you can say that's accurate. After a man was killed for claiming to have an explosive in his carry-on and refusing to let go of it, his luggage was "exploded" with water to make sure it didn't blow up. But no, there weren't any explosives in there. Nice work, CNN; way to sacrifice accuracy for the sake of making a sensational link for people to click on.

No. Freaking. Way.

Mel Gibson Developing Holocaust Mini-Series

Uh, what? It's a well-known fact that Gibson's father is a Holocaust denier, and the man himself has done some rhetorical contortions to avoid contradicting those views directly. Then again, he could very well have been trying to acknowledge historical truth while avoiding estranging his dad. Which is fine. But cripes, Mr. Passion of the Christ working on a Holocaust-themed mini-series? What's next, Al Sharpton sponsoring a KKK documentary?

What I found most interesting is that this will be based on the memoirs of Flory A. Van Beek, a Dutch Jew who was protected and hidden by her Gentile neighbors. So this could end up being all about the wonderful Christians in the end.

If Ms. Van Beek is okay with it, I'm not going to freak out. Still, check out the photo of Gibson that accompanies the article- forget the mini-series; I wouldn't want that guy coming near small children.

I Need a Bookstore

So pretty.

*wants*

*le sigh*

Small Beans

Drinking coffee when you're tired only turns your brain from a puddle of mud into a river of it. Sure, it's going somewhere, but who the heck knows what's going on inside. Same goes for continuously munching on gummi candy for 3 hours. Not that I'd know or anything.

More Thoughts on Sunday

In my ecstatic initial ramble, I forgot to mention a few relevant points about the Menier Sunday in the Park With George.

First, the design- the costumes were pretty much the same as in the original production- functional period wear for Act I, and extremely 80s dress for Act II, so the time periods could easily be established. The only difference I can think of is that Dot's dress didn't split open in the first song. It did, however have that convenient reversible bustle. :)

The sets were both simpler and more complex than those of the original production. There were no cutouts of monkeys, dogs, soldiers, or Georges, but what replaced them were excellent animated projections. Nothing too complex happened here- they usually had one simple movement that was employed at judicious times, usually for comic effect. The soldier would suddenly turn his head to look at something, the dog would roll in the dirt, and "George" would start gesticulating as he spoke with a potential sponsor. It was all nicely executed and not too enamored of itself- the effects never, ever came close to superseding the book or score. Projections were used for the backdrops as well, making it easy to move from La Grande Jatte to the museum and back. It was especially fun to see George "sketch" a few initial lines on a white canvas in the beginning of the show, and after all the "color and light" of the two acts, to see him once again standing happily in the middle of a completely blank room, filled with possibility. The stage was his canvas, which is exactly how it's supposed to be.

Finally, I'm pretty sure there were a few small lyric changes, most noticably in "Putting It Together." Did Sondheim revise his lyrics for the first London production of this show, or for any occassion at all? Or are there words in the DVD but not the OBC?