Monday, January 30, 2012

That's All I Wanted

Today is one of those days that finds me tired into my bones. How boring. The weekend wasn't particularly action packed, so who knows what the cause might be aside from the general wear and tear associated with having a toddler roommate. HR did reveal a new trick: by accident, but then with some encouraging laughter, he's learned to say "Hi, dude," and it's about the cutest thing on the universe. Especially if you can see it in person, because the shape of his lips on the long O is priceless. It really is these tiny moments in parenting.

Also: I watched Burlesque. It got terrible reviews, I was aware of this beforehand, but such things don't deter me. And you know, it was kind of terrible. The choreography was flat and uninspired (let's all just fall back on the Fosse wrist snapping and rolling and call it homage, yes?). The storyline was dumb and implausible. But it was a fun weekend trifle. And (the unbelievably squandered) Alan Cumming and Stanley Tucci and Cher should be in everything always, and together. Who knew Christina Aguilera was so pretty? When she's not all done up in her drag queen get-up she's quite cute. I understand wanting to be glam and express yourself, but I think her look these days with all the boobs and the hair and the cosmetics is just trying too hard. Honestly though who am I to say? It's so annoying when people say, "You'd be so pretty if..." People wanna look how they look, it shouldn't concern me.

Back to the movie itself, it was sort of thrilling to see some former So You Think You Can Dance faces as the back-up burlesque-ers. And to see Kristen Bell in a dancing role, just because I love her so dating back to Veronica Mars. Jumping tracks, she's also great in House of Lies on Showtime which is a show I do enjoy, but I'm just gonna put it out there - for all the parts I like (Ben Schwartz, great characters like Don Cheadle's awesome kid and dad) there's this undercurrent of misogyny that I can't quite get away from. It's not like it's shocking that all the male characters are out there getting tail left and right - I get it, they're bad boys of business, good for them. But then the one female star has an on-the-road fling and it's revealed--only through the stoner wisdom of the sensitive singer-songwriter one-night-stand-partner, of course--that she's adrift in a sea of daddy issues. I think it does a disservice to her character, and comes across as square, lazy and cliche to make excuses for her sexuality. I'll keep watching, but the writers are officially on mental notice.

Tune in tomorrow as I reveal yet more layers of my rich mental tapestry. This remains one of the great creepy-good songs of all time. 

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