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one of the most colorful movies i've ever seen, ran, this 1985 3-hour epic loosely based on lear and set in feudal japan, was one of kurosawa's last movies though proved that as he was losing his sight, he could still do fucking amazing work. i try watching it every time it's on tv, even if i just mute it and listen to music. honestly, the colors are enough.
beyonce proves that her art-pop appearance in gaga's "telephone" extravaganza wasn't a fluke in this ode to 1950/60's housewife perfection. however where cute references seem entirely natural to ms. germanotta, it seems almost too forced in b.b. homemaker's hands. it just proves kitsch (the unofficial word of 2010) is finally stepping its way over into the mainstream for better or for, gulp, worse.
even if corporate greed and degradation is not your thing, the timeless power-synth score is the best of the 80's. add retro michael douglas, sober charlie sheen, a dopey darryl hannah, metropolitan art deco, some of the best lines written about american capitalism, and you have a modern morality play that will never go out of style.
art? i think so :P
r.i.p. high society: march 2010-april 2010. probably one of the most incredibly and shamelessly dramatic reality series ever pitched and most likely never to return ever again, this show made wednesday nights one of the best of the late-winter/early-spring season with its clash of upper crust new york morality you do not see outside of an edith wharton novel and modern me-first, booze-enchanced narcissism of its young(ish) stars. though boring 30something socialite divorcee tinsley mortimer was whom the show revolved around, it was her group of unscrupulous "friends" such as the cracked-out, video-game-playing racist jules kirby, and the outlandish, trendy one-liner king paul johnson calderon that truly made the show trainwreck-lovely. and who could forget dale mercer, tinsley's southern belle mom who breathes moral code and consults high-class blind-dating services for the new mr. right and devorah rose, the editor of social life magazine and all-around fugazi, who is hated by most of "high society" and would be better suited in the hands of a shrink with license to prescribe heavy meds? more dangerous liaisons than cruel intentions but that's why i loved it; just the right amount of champagne-slinging, porn-star-kissing, german-prince-dating drama one needs in the middle of a hectic week. so long, my aristocratic brats, it was fun while it lasted.
in a complete francoise sagan mood with more ennui than all of her spoiled heroines combined. just gimme a pack of gauloises, dark shades, a tall caramel frapp, and i'm set.
i've already been watching e!'s latest trashfest pretty wild almost as religiously as a priest dreams of coital bliss, but after actually reading the vanity fair article detailing the myriad of hollywood burglaries done by a group of pothead, fame-obsessed valley kids, i have a new fascination for the scripted drama starring miss alexis neiers as the "innocent" who "fell in" with the "wrong crowd." okay, alexis, i used that excuse with my parents to avoid being grounded too, you can fess up now.
