Thighs Wide Shut

Paraguayan javeliner Leryn Franco

American javeliner Lamar Latrell

Jemaine chooses his jemaine (wo)man

you are not what you own: Dischord Records goes digital

Gavin Rossdale’s daughter shows us her BUSH [NSFW]

I Left My Death Star in San Francisco

Zodiac letter receiver Melvin Belli as Star Trek‘s Gorgan [Time Werespanko]

the movie poster quiz [Ross At Our Balls]

geeky stained glass windows [b3ta]

and

slides from a les ghetto IBM presentation about crappy computers of the future!

Neil Diamond
Madison Square Garden
(A Hot) August (Night) 14th

[mo pics from another nite from HarveNYC]

Doooooooooode! NEIL FORKIN DIAMOND! HE SHONE ON, that crazy arsed DIAMOND did he, and now we can mos slap happily cross him off our muss see before he and we die list, like we dids with Stevie Wonds months ago. With a crowd consisting of only Wonder Bread white peoples and a median age of 62, Neil D (father of Dustin and Mike D) totally gave everyone their moneys worth and kevin duckworth, digging deep into his impressive vault of hits and beltin out a few new tunes from his solid and not gaseous current Rick Rubin produced effort Home Before Dark. It was all PRETTY AMAZING… GRACE. SWEET jesus and CAROLINE tit twas! He made us want to stay FOREVER IN BLUE JEANS. Someone didn’t BRING HIM FLOWERS, but everyone showered him with love. Don’t feel bad for the SOLITARY MAN cause he has a zillion adoring singletary women screamings non-stops. THANK THE LORD FOR THE NIGHTTIME and for creating Neil, who’s like a hotter, more talented Mike Damone from Fast Times. Play him? PLAY ME cause he AM and he SAID! HELL YEAH! SONG SUNG BLUE made us white in the pants and made our palms CRACKLIN ROSIE. So glad we popped our Neil CHERRY, CHERRY the other TOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOODAY. Wees and I’M A BELIEVER!!!

Susic Mobbery saw the show a few nights before and had more intelligible things to spray

Vicky Cristina Barcelona
A Latesummer Night’s Sex Dramedy
Trailers & Mo

The two names that proceed Barcelona in the title are two American tourists BFFs who are spending a month long holiday in Spain’s second largest city before heading back to reality. Vicky (Rebecca Hall, with the film’s finest performance, which is saying something considering how great everyone else is), essentially the Woody Allen character here, is the straight-laced one with her future well planned out, including her upcoming marriage to a boring NYC finance guy (Chris Messina). Cristina (Scarlett Johansson, who always exudes sexy, and awkward acting) on the other hand, is the free spirit, ready for whatever adventure comes her way. One night, while the two are dining in a restaurant, a famed local painter named (Don) Juan Antonio (Javier Bardem) approaches them with an offer to whisk them away for a whirlwind weekend of fine wine, art and fornication. Cristina is overly charmed and ready to jump in, and while Vicky is hesitant at first, she ultimately agrees to join them. Juan Antonio guns for Cristina, but she gets very sick after a heavy night of drinking, forcing him to spend the next day and night with Vicky. She tries her best to resist his charms, but this is Javier Bardem we’re talking about! The two tryst it up, leaving her shaken and stirred. The threesome return from the weekend, and Cristina and Juan Antonio pursue a steamy relationship, while Vicky starts to second guess her life’s plan and pending nuptials, finding a good ear in an expat who’s been in a similar situation (Patricia Clarkson)

It sounds like there’s enuff drama here to fill up the rest of the film, but things get a lot more interesting when Juan Antonio’s ex-wife and soul mate Maria Elena (Penélope Cruz, whose English keeps gettin better flick by flick, but is at her best when speaking in her native Spanish tongue) reenters his life and lights the screen on fire. She’s down in the dumps and Juan A has no other choice but to let her live with him and Cristina. It’s an fragile grouping from the get go, but by looking at the image above, you juss know things will eventually get a lil bit saucy between them. Yes, there’s a ménage à trois between beautiful peoples Bardem, Cruz and Johansson, but before you pack yer Kleenex and Jergens lotion and head off to the theater with yer pants around yer cankles, please note that this hot action occurs, sadly, off screen, save a lil smooching d-tease. Don’t let this panty bunching prevent you perverts from seeing Woody Allen’s latest European Vacation, which is dripping with plenty o’ luscious lust-er, and gorgeous scenery that isn’t flesh-based

While not as brilliant as Match Point, or as goofy as Scoop, or as gripping as the vastly underrated Cassandra’s Dream, VCB is still an enjoyable romp around the Iberian Peninsula. The more the Woodman stays away from Manhattan, the less his movies feel like… a Woody Allen movie, and after a decade of mediocrity, this is a mos welcome sojourn. Must be something in the Old World’s water that has the ability to tone down his usual New World neurosis and output something that feels fresh, yet still retains a hint of the Allentown we all love to keep visiting year after year. VCB‘s got more charm than a 24 pack of Charmin, so break out the rolls and wipe this baby up!

Voice Male: the film’s narrator, Christopher Evan Welch, is most well known for providing the voice of Tails in the cartoon The Adventures of Sonic the Hedgehog when he was a kid. these days, you can hear his growns up vox on many an audiobooks

Verdictgo: Jeepers Mos Def Worth A Peepers

A Girl Cut In Two
(La Fille Coupée En Deux)
An Obtuse Astute Love Triangle
Trailers & Mo

Lovely TV weather gal Gabrielle (Ludivine Sagnier, for once, not in NSFW mode) has gots some men issues. She’s the part-time mistress of a renowned French author (François Berléand, last seen as the police detective in Tell No One), who totally enjoys a good tumble under the sheets, but he can’t really commit to her, being married and taking frequent trips to an high-brow sex club. Then there’s the wealthy brat Paul (Benoît Magimel), who will stop at nothing to win her affection, although he only seems to love himself, and his hamazin hair. As the author starts to pull away, tearing Gabrielle’s heart… IN TWO, she finds uneasy comfort in Paul’s arms. While Paul may have won the prize, he can’t help but feel like sloppy seconds. This leads him to do something quite dastardly that we won’t reveal here. The plot is hactually based on what this man did to Madison Square Garden (version II)’s architect (don’t click one the first link unless you want yer milk spoiled), and it isn’t even the first time these events have been fictionalized. It was the subject, mos famously, of the 1955 film The Girl in the Red Velvet Swing and the 1975 novel Ragtime. French New Wave director Claude Chabrol blends the love tragedy in Girl with some nice bits of humor, and shows that for a septuagenarian juss like Allen, he isn’t showing any signs of rust. And while we’re still figuring out what exactly happened at the end, we suggest y
ou start at the beginning

E Femme Rule: Paul’s sisters are quite the cutie patooties. pay love and respek to Clémence Bretécher and Charley Fouquet

Verdictgo: Jeepers Worth A Peepers

Anita O’Day:
The Life of a Jazz Singer
Not All That Jazz
Trailers & Mo

Anita O’Day led a mos colorful life. Nicknamed The Jezebel of Jazz, her unique voice has stood the test of time (peep Ms O’Day at the 1958 Newport Jazz Festival kick out the jams ‘Sweet Georgia Brown’ and ‘Tea For Two’), even dropping her last album right before she passed on at age of 87. She’s been as highly revered as such other legends as Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holiday and Sarah Vaughn, sang alongside sum luminary musicians like Gene Krupa and Stan Kenton, and had more than her fair share of professional and personal highs (she loved to drink and smoke marijuana) and lows (and dabble with heroin and multiple husbands as well). This basic documentary, pieced together over 4 years by her adoring manager Robbie Cavolina and Ian McCrudden, shines when the camera’s pointing at Anita, but the rest of the other surrounding pitter-patter will probably only eggcite the diehard fans, which leaves the uninitiated feeling that if it don’t mean a thing, it juss aint got that swing

Hat Tip: although currently not available on DVD, don’t forget to seek out Hats Off, about another classy olde dame by the name of Mimi Weddell

Verdictgo: Sum Merit But No Stinkin Badges

all three films open in limited release today

until next thyme the balcony is clothed…

Rock The Bells
Jones Beach
Aug 3rd

Dem bells were mos certainly rawked yesterday, as we spent 8ish alcohol-free long hours out on Strong Island taking in the rapper delights that ruled our white subURBAN adolescence: A Tribe Called Quest, Nas, Method Man & Redman, Ghostface & Raekwon (so why again didn’t they play ‘Daytona 500’), De La Soul, Mos Def (taking a break from his illustrious acting career), the Pharcyde, etc, rapcetera. The performances ranged from OK (Nas was good, but he didn’t rule the world) to A-OK (Meth was more on fire than all the blunts lit up at the amphitheater) to Z-OK (why does De La always put on a lackluster show?), but there was a sense of unity between the acts as they all called for ‘peace’ and to ‘f%ck the police’. Good to know some things never change, like spreading mixed messages of love and hate

Outside of Afrika Bambaataa and the Zulu nation tearing it up on the second stage, no one main act stole the show, for it was a bunch of surprise guests that truly raised the the roof beam more than JD Salinger. It was mad killah to peep Jay-Z duet with Nas, and have EPMD, Keith Murray, Talib Kewli (joining Mos Def, duh), Bust Rhymes (we missed his scenario with Tribe cause we had to head home and watch the Zorn era come to life on DVR) and Slick Rick pop their heads out throughout the day, but the realiest and illiest manilliaist shiznits to fliztizlits were hands and thighs down hearing ‘nobody beats the’ Biz Markie electrify the crowd with a third of ‘Just A Friend’ and DJ Kool dusting off his go-go classic ‘Let Me Clear My Throat’ as we tried to clear our own smoke encrusted lungs. Those are two one hit-wonderful anthems that we’ve always wanted to hear live, but would never want to sit thru a whole Biz or Kool concert to make that dream a reality

So yer probably wondering about the dude in the picture above with the flannel turban and granny smith apple in his right hand, who looks like Randy from My Name Is Earl, right? Well, we’re still wondering about him too, as he was without a doubt the king supreme HIGHlight of the entire day. He never took a single bite of that apple or even bothered to remove it’s sticker. Wees thinks the apple was his environMENTALly-friendly equivalent of the devil horns. As if that wasn’t enuff to cement his status as coolest kid on the playground, he’d often run laps around the second stage’s standing area, only to return to where he was previously standing and continue on in is apple ‘hard’ core antics. Bless his soul, de la that is

The X-Files:
I Want to Believe
A Sorry X-Cuse For A Second Feature
Trailers & Mo

Like with Dr Jones, it’s a pleasure to catch-up once again with our old pals Mulder and Scully, we juss wish the reunion was packaged with something both familiar and mind-blowing, and not lackluster and half-assed. This second X-Files big screen adventure is a lot like the first one, cept it has less to do with the show’s delicious mythology (if yer looking for aliens see Crystal Skull instead) and more to do with wasting everyone’s time (unless yer really into questioning faith and religion). The production of the film was shrouded in secrecy, but what’s the point when there’s nothing within this basic serial killerish film worth holding the beans back from spilling. Guess the only secret was how plain this film turned out to be. It is kinda entertaining, but we expect more from team X, as this stand-alone piece is just that, standing by itself, far from what made the series so darn franztastic to begin with. While we are treated to sum lovely tender moments between Duchovny and Anderson (although they spend way too much screentime apart… probably the result of shooting schedule conflicts), everything else in play is ho-hum. The only thing supernatural goings on here is Billy Connolly as a child-raping priest/physic, and the rest seems very super-unnatural, like newcomers Xzibit and Amanda Peet, who both add very little to the effort (they should left Xzibit off the screen and figured out a way to use his killah song ‘Paparazzi’ instead). We’re kinda tossed on whether they should even bother with a third flick, but the fact remains that the truth is still out there since I Want To Believe is juss a bunch of truthiness

The Hank Moody Boobs: Mulder is so yesterday’s news thanks to Duchovny’s work and all play banging hot chicks on Showtime’s Californication [NSFW]

Verdictgo: Sum Merit But No Stinkin Badges

Mamma Mia!
My My, How Can We Resist You? Very Easily
Trailers & Mo

This past decade has seen its fair share of stage musicals making a bumpy transition to celluloid. For every Sweeney Todd or Hedwig that are able to make the magic work, there are at least a handful that repoop it up like Phantom of The Poopera or Poopspray or Low-Rent or The Pro-Poopers or Nightmaregirls. Mama Mia! is another one to add to the poopfest list. They woulda been better off calling it Dia Rrhea! OK, it’s not as awful as one would think, but after about 3 songs into this ABBA karaoke-a-thon yer gonna wanna run home and listen to Agnetha, Björn, Benny and Anni-Frid sing the tunes instead of whatever butcher shop Meryl Streep and co have opened for bidness. We’re glad that they were having such a great time onscreen, but maybe they could figured out a way to transfer some of that fun to the paying audience. This may not be the movie musical’s Waterloo, but it’s certainly its Waterpoop

Remington Shrill: we pity poor Pierce Brosnan. he’s got a lovely voice for talking (and audio tours), but not so much when it comes to singing. he’s down right slight yer ears off repoopulous, yet we can’t stop listening to his duet with Meryl on ‘S.O.S.’ [d]

Verdictgo: Sum Merit But No Stinkin Badges

both films are playing at a theater new Jews

until next thyme the balcony is clothed…