Truly Outrageous

When I heard they were making a live action “Jem and the Holograms” film, I was over the moon. Why? Because Jem is excitement. Jem is adventure! JEM IS OUTRAGEOUS!! See??

She squeezes her earring and she and her bandmates--who run a foster home for girls, because they’re that selfless--become technicolor marvels. Glamour and glitter, fashion and fame! And more! They take on bitchy “enemy bands” with as much panache as they do while taking on a God damn volcano!

They are superheroes in their own right--saving royalty from being unseated, foiling the plans of cheaters in the many, many battles of the bands, and bringing attention to important issues like world hunger. And they did it all while looking amazing and singing a song.

“Jem and the Holograms” was an amazing part of the 80s. So naturally everyone was excited when the news came out that there was a film in the works. And then the trailer was released.

What you just saw is outrageous for all the wrong reasons. It surpasses awful. It does not even slightly resemble the original canon. It looks like a Disney Channel movie. (And not one of the good ones. If only it could end up as great as “Zenon: Girl of the 21st Century” we’d be okay!) They’ve completely changed the spirit of the original material. This is now a coming of age story about girl who learns about being herself and the real meaning of friendship and family. And that’s a great, sugary, cliche story that’s worth being told. Again.

And if it had been told as “Judy Smith and her Rocker Girlfriends!” I’d politely clap and say, ‘That’s very cute!’ But that’s not what’s happened here. What’s happened is director Jon Chu of Justin Bieber concert film fame and his similarly credentialed team decided they’d take something with a previously established following, use the names in order to bring along that built in audience, and wrote a completely unrelated story. It’s like fan fiction, except at least EL James had the decency to change the names of her characters.

But there’s more at stake here. Female superheroes have been facing an uphill battle for years. The fact that there have been how many superhero based movies (I’m not going to count them, just think about all of them though) and only one centered on a female lead is atrocious. And well, yeah, the movie was atrocious too.

 Execs gave in, (finally) deciding to do a Wonder Woman flick--and it only got greenlit after “Batman vs. Superman” and the “Justice League” films were picked up. Prior to that, attempts at getting a female superhero movie were shot down repeatedly.

‘But Jess! Look at the Avengers! Black Widow is a major character in the film!’ Yeah, well consider this: In the current hit “Avengers: Age of Ultron.” Black Widow has a badass scene where she drops out of a moving plane on a motorcycle and proceeds to look badass while kicking many an ass.

But what happened when it was time to develop the toy? Oh, they gave the badassery to Captain Americain one version of the toy and Iron Man in the other version. There is no toy version with Black Widow.

How does this all relate to what looks likes to be a shitty “Jem and the Holograms” movie? It’s all symptomatic of this idea that girls can’t kick ass. They can fall in love, lose their way, turn their back on friends, realize that there’s no place like home, and have a group hug with the people who really matter, but they can’t save the day. They are capable of rom-coming. And that? That’s detrimental. It goes beyond pissing off a fandom. It becomes damaging to society. It’s pandering, it’s limiting, and it reinforces the idea that men are physical beings and women are emotional beings.

I hear what you’re saying. “Jess, you’re judging a movie solely based on its trailer! Isn’t that jumping to conclusions?” No, because the people responsible for that trailer wanted the public to come away with an idea about the movie’s feel and narrative direction. Look at that and tell me I wasn’t supposed to get a rom-com vibe. You can’t.

There’s a missed opportunity here; an opportunity to tell a fun, female led story with a kick ass message, wrapped in a color palette that hurts your eyes. And that missed opportunity? Well, that’s truly outrageous.

Robin Williams, 1951 - 2014

I remember the first time I heard “Reality...What a Concept.” I’m not sure how I got my hands on it, but I know I was not quite 9 yet because I hadn’t seen “Aladdin.” Obviously it was not age appropriate, and I knew it at the time. I remember listening to the cassette in my bedroom with the door shut. About 60% of the content went way over my head, but that which didn’t left me laughing, hard. It was my first experience with stand up comedy that I really liked. I remember looking at the cassette and thinking 2 things: 1) This was Robin Williams, that guy from that Nick-at-Nite show, “Mork and Mindy,” and 2) I wanted to hear more stuff like his stand up and less “Nah-Nu, Nah-Nu.”

Like every kid my age in America, I saw “Aladdin,” “Fern Gully,” and “Mrs. Doubtfire.” I begged my parents to let me see “Toys” and “Dead Poets Society,” but I wasn’t allowed. See, I was just a kid. A kid who knew great jokes about Village of the Damned People.

I remember when I saw “Hook” for the first time, and I was one of the Lost Boys. “You’re playing with us, Peter!” He portrayed a man who, as it turned out, never really grew up. Not really. And it seemed even then that maybe Steven Spielberg might have been typecasting. Because I don’t think for a minute Robin ever grew up, and maybe that was why it hurt so much to be him at times.

When I was 13 I used Napster to download “A Night at the Met.” It was one of the first things I ever downloaded. I still have the CD I burned it onto. And being older, I started to get a lot of the jokes and references, even though several of them were, again, above age appropriateness. But I was hooked. It was intelligent humor, a display of a genius at play, and the funniest thing I had ever heard in my young life.

See, for me, Robin Williams was more than an actor or a comedian. He was the man who introduced me to my sense of humor, my particular preference for smart comedy that went beyond the juvenile humor of my peers. He was topical and playful; smart, yet not above a crude joke. A master of characters and play, he seized upon every opportunity to adlib and improv, exploited irony, and used history and facts to delight and make you think at the same time. His humor made me feel validated and less alone because even though I didn’t laugh at the same things as my peers, here was a guy who represented that which I found hilarious. He made me laugh in times when I was so very much alone and sad as a kid. He taught he how to make jokes that elicited laughter from adults and eventually kids my age, and it was through humor that I learned how to fit in and deflect the worst parts of being a kid and teenager.

As I got older I saw many of the movies he was in and loved them. I’m nowhere near having watched everything he’s ever been in, but I guess I need to apply myself more. I won’t go through the full list, but there are so many bright spots and very few ‘wrongs’ in his career, as far as I’m concerned. Except for “Death to Smoochy.” *shudders*

His HBO specials, “Live on Broadway” and “Weapons of Self-Destruction” were nothing short of brilliant, and I frequently reference and quote both in everyday conversation. I had the privilege of seeing him live TWICE: Once in Richmond,  while he was on a stand up tour, and once on Broadway in the production of “Bengal Tiger at Baghdad Zoo.” It was after the latter that I met him.

They say don’t meet your heroes, and I’m betting there’s some truth to that, but thankfully not on this occasion. The crowd around the railing was pretty thick after the show, but I had somehow managed a spot at the front. Everyone was taking pictures with him and getting his autograph. I got my program autographed as well. As he was signing it, I stammered, “I am such a huge fan. You taught me about comedy when I was only 8. I think you’re brilliant. Thank you for all you do!” He murmured a ‘thanks,’ and then posed for a picture with me. He was really tired and there were a lot of people around. The only problem was the woman who took the photo didn’t understand camera phones and got a shot of my elbow. She asked if I wanted to try again, and I said, trying to keep the note of sadness out of my voice, “I don’t want to take up anymore of Mr. Williams’ time. Thanks though.” He immediately turned back to me and asked, “Would you like to try again?” I beamed, “Yes sir, please!” And he did! He gave me a smile and shook my hand, giving my hand an extra squeeze. I remember walking back through Times Square like I was on a cloud. I couldn’t wait to call my parents and friends and tell them I met Robin Williams, my hero and favorite comedian.

There’s a movie that sometimes gets poorly reviewed and regarded, but I love it. However in light of today’s events, it’s gone from one of my favorites to possibly the most tragic: “What Dreams May Come,” a film in which his character, who has died and gone to Heaven rescues his wife from Purgatory after she commits suicide, out of grief.

Robin Williams left the world this morning, most likely at his own hands. He left behind three children, a wife, numerous fans, and unfinished, brilliant work. I won’t speculate on the hows or the whys, but we can all surmise that he had to be in a very dark place to do such a thing.

I have been crying off and on since I heard the news this evening. To those who think I might be overreacting, boo-hooing over some celebrity, I say this: Robin Williams was more than a genie, a nanny, a cabaret club owner, a doctor, a bat, or an alien. He was, to my mind, my professor of humor and comedy, my hero and inspiration, and a man who taught me how to be me, starting at age 8.

I hope that he’s found peace, and a great reward for all the joy he brought to so many of us. I believe that the pain and pressures of life are gone and that he can finally let go. And I hope that when I reach the same place--wherever that might be--there’s a stage-side seat for me. Because God knows even he’ll be able to work up some amazing material about the afterlife.

You’ll be missed, Robin. Thank you for everything.

Genie, you're free. pic.twitter.com/WjA9QuuldD
— The Academy (@TheAcademy) August 12, 2014

Conscious vs. Conscience

My vaguely insulting blog entry that discusses the difference between Specific vs. Pacific is consistently one of my biggest traffic generators. I had no idea there were so many people who needed the clarification. And yet somehow, I'm not surprised.

I had several snide remarks ready to explain why I'm not surprised, but then I remembered that I probably shouldn't insult people taking the time visit my blog. Besides, I live to better society! I'm kind of like Batman, when you think about it.



And in the spirit of Batman, I'm going to teach you the difference between 'conscious' and 'conscience.' That way you can avoid looking stupid. I'm like a vigilante; preventing vocabicide!


Conscious has several meanings, but for our purposes, we're going to go with these definitions:

Example: Cartman proved Kenny was not conscious by waving a dollar in his face.

Classic episode.

'Conscious' is used pretty often as a part of other words like 'unconscious' and 'consciousness.' The former word indicates a lack of the latter word.


Conscience has a completely different meaning and application. Namely this:

This is what crickets looked like in 1940.

Or more precisely:

Your conscience is that voice that tells you the difference between right and wrong. Depending on who you are, it can be kind of aggressive.

Hopefully that clears up any confusion there might have been. It bothers me to no end that people were unclear on the proper usage of these—but wait! Citizens! It is the Bat-Signal! I must go and render assistance!

Which can be purchased from this vendor.

Name That Storm!

It's been a while since I've last posted, and no, I'm not going to address my blog laziness. Needless to say,

I'm not even going to discuss the purple Tina Turner wig Elton's wearing. It's here and it's queer, get used to it.

It's still winter, despite a Pennsylvanian groundhog's prediction, confused crocuses, jonquils, and foxgloves (I wish I'd thought to snap some pics!), and my friend Karri's terror/joy of possible snow.

And with winter comes winter storms, all of which the Weather Channel has independently decided to name. As irritating as it is to have a television station unilaterally decide that all storms will have names we're all supposed to address the storms by, the names themselves have been FANTASTIC.

So far, we've had:

Draco

Gandolf

I don't care if they've spelled it differently.

Iago

I was only disappointed that the 'J' storm was not named 'Jafar.' How badass would that have been???

Nemo

Okko

Since we're nearing spring/global warming, it's possible we may not see these storms left on the list, even though their names are equally amazing:

Triton

Xerxes

Skipping the scissoring joke.

Yogi

I'm hoping for a Winter Storm Boo Boo next winter.

Zeus

Incidentally, there was also a Winter Storm Athena,

Who is Triton's dearly departed wife and Ariel's mother in Disney's "The Little Mermaid."

Now obviously they're going with a lot Greek/Roman gods and goddesses and Shakespearian characters (because when I think snow, I think of Shakespeare.) And all of the names are pretty cool, with the exception of Ukko, which is just begging to be added to the blooper reel after some poor weather girl accidentally says, 'Fuck-o' on the air. But the best name by far is the storm current burying eastern California and western Nevada: Winter Storm Q.

And I immediately thought of/made this:

You're welcome, world.

While we're on the subject of snow, my family and I have this fun tradition: Whenever it snows where ever one of us might be, that person calls the other family members and sings the opening lines of "Snow" from "White Christmas." It's off-key, it's silly, and I love it. It never fails to make me smile!

So while spring is on the way and I'm really looking forward to not having heating bills for $124 (hey, eff you 103 year old house with poorly sealed door and windows,) I can't help but feel a little sad that we haven't had a really good snow yet this season.

 

We got enough for me to make a mini-snowman at a bus stop near my place, which was great, because I'm actually 10.

Still, I'd like one more really good, deep, city paralyzing snow. Maybe Winter Storm Rocky won't disappoint?

And yes, I'm going to blog more often.