This blows.
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Since we're all fiddling while Rome burns, anyway, I figure now is as good a time as any to let loose with a few completely frivolous diatribes against the falsities being perpetrated on us by the pop media, things that will bore a hole in my skull if I don't let them out:
Colin Farrell is not a movie star. "Movie star" used to mean that you were so beloved, a lot of people paid to see your movies. Now you get one Vanity Fair cover, and they're ready to put your footprints in the cement. Young Mr. Farrell, as spicy as he may seem as an appetizer, has yet to make it as the main course. American Outlaws, The Recruit, Hart's War, Daredevil, Phone Boothlousy movies that he was lousy in that did lousy at the box office. Minority Report? Sorry, he wasn't the lead, and, come to think of it, that movie was lousy, too.
Jennifer Garner is not sexy. The Alias star recently filed for divorce so she could openly make out with actually sexy French co-star Michael Vartan. This woman belongs with soon-to-be- ex-husband and former Felicity co-star Scott Foley, driving down Sunset Boulevard in a Nissan listening to Counting Crows. If she weren't rich and famous, she'd be waitressing at TGI Friday's and attending the county fair wearing a sweater with appliqu餠kittens and hearts on it.
No one on American Idol can sing. I'd thought we all knew this show was some hopped-up version of karaoke until an inordinate amount of people I once accepted as relatively sane began taking this contest semiseriously. American Idol is the idea of singing, and a screeching half-notion at that: These people are howling at us. Ruben Studdard and Clay Aiken? The two recent finalists benefited from what no one wants to talk about: The American public will wish you success if you're skinny and white or fat and black. No one wants to admit that the skinny white guy can't sing because our entire economy is based on the success of skinny white people, and no one wants to admit that the fat black guy can't sing because our entire economy is not based on the success of fat black people. It's all about conformity and guilt.
No one on Dawson's Creek was ever attractive. Who was hot on this show? Katie Holmes, who looks like a 13-year-old with a bad cold and dog-eared copy of Lolita? Joshua Jackson, an obvious devotee of Michelob and the craft services table? James Van Der Beek, now lacking a weekly paycheck and capable of renting his forehead out as billboard advertising space? Who, dammit?!!
The Matrix Reloaded sucks. I've heard the words "disappointing," "overrated," and "overblown" used, but as far as I know, no one's climbed out there on the limb. Let's just tell it like it is: This movie blows so hard it could service John Holmes and still have breath left for the next customer. Gonzo car chase, good CGI kung fu, impenetrable Star Trek mumbo jumbo, no interest in Part Three.
swiecking@seattleweekly.com
