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The turnout at Cinema 21 for the cancer fundraiser for Doug was nothing short of incredible. Every silent-auction item sold (including, to my mild surprise, all three donated copies of "Santa's Lil' Gimp"). The readings and the music came off well. Spirits were high. And the preliminary estimate of money raised is in the five figures.
Shawn Levy has the full post-show report, with photos.
There are at least two more D.K. Holm fundraisers in the works. More info soon.
As mentioned earlier: My pal D.K. Holm has cancer and no insurance. There's a fundraiser this Sunday (April 27) at Cinema 21.
The latest CulturePulp comic is an extra-long installment previewing the Stumptown Comics Fest -- set for this weekend (April 26-27) at the Lloyd Center DoubleTree in Portland.
Here are three ways to read the strip:
(Oh, and while you're at it, be sure to check out the other Stumptown preview comic, which Mudron and Dylan Meconis crafted for the April 24 Portland Mercury. And here's a big list of media mentions of the Fest.)
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CulturePulp 73: Inside the Stumptown Comics Fest (Webcomics Nation)
From today's Oregonian....
Memo to smart, funny TV stars in smart, funny TV shows: When you take similar wares to the big screen and expect me to pay full ticket price to follow you there, I'd better laugh at least as hard as I did at home.
Is that unfair? Yes. Does it ignore the vicissitudes of the creative process and the sad statistical march of time? Absolutely. It's especially unfair today, with the best TV writing enjoying a sophistication seldom matched by the modern studio comedy (Judd Apatow notwithstanding).
Nevertheless, major TV comedians: You set your own bar. Deal. Steve Carell: Every comedy you help bring to the multiplex must be as clever and provocative as "The Office" and your "Daily Show" segments. Oh, and Tina Fey: Your "SNL Weekend Update" was the best since Dennis Miller's, and "30 Rock" is one of the funniest, strangest shows on TV.
But "Baby Mama," I'm sad to say, is just sporadically funny, bland, talent-wasting junk.
The movie -- written and directed by Tina Fey pal Michael McCullers -- concerns an upper-middle-class executive with a "bad uterus" (Fey) who hires a trashy woman-child (Amy Poehler) as a surrogate mother. Poehler soon moves into Fey's tidy magazine spread of an apartment, and easygoing "Odd Couple" gags start slowly tumbling down the slopes of Mt. Sitcom.
"Baby Mama" is fairly good at three things:
It serves as a showcase for Poehler's superior comic chops; she bounces off straight-woman Fey like a Superball, and layers her character with amusing detail (including what must be the least convincing offer to contribute gas money in cinema history).Unfortunately, the movie throws in a stupid plot twist just when it starts to build the slightest puff of satirical steam, and the rest of the film is an easygoing, chuckle-to-yourself farce peppered with crappy music, uninteresting drama and a superfluous romance with Greg Kinnear. It's not horrible, but it's droopy, and it left me craving "30 Rock"'s vastly superior skewering of the privileged and self-involved. Fey should stick to writing her own material.
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C; 96 minutes; rated PG-13 for crude and sexual humor, language and a drug reference.
On the Friday, April 18 "Cort and Fatboy" broadcast, we discuss:
Oh, and be sure to check out Cort and Fatty's terrific long-cut audio interview with the "Adaptation" filmmakers.
Cort and Fatboy (Friday, April 18, 2008)
From the Friday, April 18 Oregonian....
So here's the good news:
Jackie Chan and Jet Li, the twin titans of Hong Kong martial arts, the master comic and the peerless technician, finally made a movie together.
Both kung-fu icons are relaxed and funny (Jet Li has a full-on laughing fit at one point, which is bizarre if you've only ever seen him glare), and they have surprisingly good onscreen chemistry. Even better, they fight each other, in a long scene choreographed by the legendary Woo-ping Yuen -- and it's clever enough that you almost forget to grieve for what might have been if they'd only done this 15 years sooner.
Here's the not-so-good news:
Jackie Chan and Jet Li play supporting characters in the movie.
The film in question is "The Forbidden Kingdom," and here's what its advertising largely fails to tell you: The main character is a mopey, perpetually agog white kid from South Boston named Jason (Michael Angarano).
Jason is forced by bullies to help them rob a shop belonging to an ancient Chinese man named Hop (Jackie Chan, buried under old-age makeup). The bullies shoot Hop in the chest. Meanwhile, Jason grabs an old, ornate bowstaff from the back of the shop -- and promptly falls through a magic portal into a mythic, ancient China where nearly everyone wears a bad wig.
Once there, Jason promptly stops worrying about the old dude he helped get shot. He also falls in with a wine-swilling immortal (Jackie, offering occasional flashes of his awesome "Drunken Master" schtick), a lethal monk (Jet) and a vengeful girl (Yifei Liu) as they try to return the bowstaff to the Monkey King (Jet, again), who was imprisoned in stone by the evil Jade Warlord (Collin Chou).
Cue wire-fu and people fighting with their hair and Chinese superstars struggling with varying success to say their dopey lines ("I will kill you, witch!" "Not if I kill you first!") in English.
"Forbidden Kingdom" is directed by Rob Minkoff, whose best work tends to be animated ("The Lion King," a couple of terrific Roger Rabbit shorts). But he keeps things moving briskly enough here, and when he's working with Jackie and Jet -- who both seem in unusually playful moods -- the movie has an easy charm that almost allows you to forgive the script for making these two legends play second banana to the mope best-known as Jack's son on "Will & Grace."
Minkoff lets the fight scenes go on for a while, which is nice, and all the best bits are in the middle, when Jackie and Jet spend a lot of time playing off each other. In addition to their epic face-off, there's a great scene where they torture Jason as they both try to teach him kung fu at the same time -- bickering with each other as they smack the kid repeatedly and bend him into uncomfortable positions.
My pleasure in this sequence may have been heightened by my annoyance with the obvious high-concept marketing forces behind the movie. I could just hear the producers in the board room, cigar smoke swirling around their fat heads as they barked into their speakerphones: "Those Hong Kong guys are too old! We need an American in here to capture the Western markets -- someone the 10-13s someone can relate to! How about a Shia LeBeouf-lookin' kid who talks to the cute Chinese girl about Fenwick Park during the slow bits?"
That said, I think the "10-13s "are probably going to enjoy this flick. If it inspires them to seek out the genuine classics shamelessly referenced throughout "Forbidden Kingdom," well, then, maybe this slight bit of fun was worthwhile.
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C-plus; 113 minutes; rated PG-13 for sequences of martial arts action and some violence.
'The Forbidden Kingdom' (The Oregonian, April 18, 2008)
From the Friday, April 18 Oregonian:
Judd Apatow-produced comedies tend to revolve around schlumpy men hurt, befuddled or frightened by women (see: "Knocked Up," "The 40-Year-Old Virgin," "Superbad" et al).
"Forgetting Sarah Marshall" is no exception.
The movie was written by Apatow regular Jason Segel (who was brilliant as a schlumpy teen in "Freaks and Geeks"). In "Sarah Marshall," Segel also plays the lead, Peter, a soundtrack composer for a lame TV show starring his girlfriend Sarah (Kristen Bell). Pete dreams of writing a puppet-theatre rock opera about Dracula (something Segel apparently once considered doing in real life). Mostly, he spends his day in sweats, eating Froot Loops and coasting on his modest charm and talent.
Until Sarah dumps him.
Peter devolves into a blubbering giant, listening to The Smiths in the ruins of his apartment. He flees to Hawaii. And of course, in one of those wacky rom-com coincidences, he ends up in the same resort hotel where Sarah is enjoying the favors of a free-sprited British rock star (Russell Brand). Awkwardness ensues. A cute desk clerk (Mila Kunis, very charming) may provide Peter with emotional succor.
On a basic-premise level, "Forgetting Sarah Marshall" sounds like any number of rom-coms. But Segel and director Nicholas Stoller (who helmed episodes of the brilliant but fast-cancelled Apatow show "Undeclared") go to the trouble of making the little details funny and filthy, and they have fun messing with the formula.
Segel, for example, plays the supportive, commitment-craving dumpee -- the rom-com role that usually goes to a woman. (Bell, meanwhile, plays the player.) Segel also gets most of the movie's nude scenes, and as Jerry Seinfeld would put it, they are very "bad naked."
The supporting roles are sharp, too: Jack McBrayer (Kenneth on "30 Rock") is hilarious as a newlywed confused and repulsed by sex. Paul Rudd plays a 44-year-old surfer with no short-term memory. And Brand has a way of dryly throwing away his lines that makes his sleazy "other man" character impossible to hate. In fact, I usually found myself rooting for the British hedonist over Peter -- who's such a sad sack, it's nearly impossible to believe that Kunis, meeting him for the first time, would take such pity on him that she'd let him stay in a $6,000-a-night suite gratis.
That possible deal-breaker aside: Segel reportedly drew on his own romantic misadventures for the script, including that "bad naked" scene, and he works in a few sharp, honest moments -- especially during a montage of Peter's horrible one-night stands and during a funny/ugly dinner scene where everyone tries (and fails) to be "adult."
Make no mistake -- this isn't a relentless button-pushing joke machine like the best Apatow schlumpy-man comedies. I guess I'd describe it as "agreeably ribald."
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B; 112 minutes, rated R for sexual content, language and some graphic nudity.
'Forgetting Sarah Marshall' (The Oregonian, April 18, 2008)
In the '80s, three Mississippi teenagers filmed an incredible shot-for-shot remake of 'Raiders of the Lost Ark'. You can see it this weekend at Portland's Hollywood Theatre. Here's a slightly longer version of the story I wrote for today's Oregonian about it.
In the 1980s, Chris Strompolos and two friends, Eric Zala and Jayson Lamb, filmed a shot-for-shot remake of "Raiders of the Lost Ark" in Mississippi. Strompolos played Indiana Jones.
It took them seven years -- using camcorders, friends, family and whatever props they could cobble together.
"Here was this seven-year odyssey of being a total geek," recalls Strompolos, 37. "For me, it represented a chapter in my childhood that was very exciting and very turbulent -- a lot of changes, a lot of parental stuff going on, figuring out my awkward teenage self.... I think for many years, my relationship to that movie was one of embarrassment." After he got his life sorted out and got married, he says, "I never watched it. I never showed it to anybody. My wife didn't even know. I tucked it away."
But then something extraordinary happened. The remake -- dubbed "Raiders of the Lost Ark: The Adaptation" -- leaked to the world. And the world was awed and amused by the insane level of detail these young men invested in their homage to Steven Spielberg's adventure classic.
And the world (and a few Hollywood fans) saw fit to make it a cult sensation, changing Strompolos' life forever. In fact, he and Zala are (proudly) hosting three screenings of this remarkable, obsessive act of movie love this Friday and Saturday (April 18-19) at the Hollywood Theatre.
The rest of this fairly incredible saga after the jump.
Continue reading "Raiders of the 'Raiders of the Lost Ark' " »
So my friend and colleague, the film writer D.K. Holm, is in a serious spot of bother.
He recently found out he has esophageal cancer, explaining the months of earth-shaking coughing fits that led up to the diagnosis. Until recently, Doug was an insured employee at Powell's City of Books, but recently left to pursue a full-time writing career. He now ruefully describes himself as "the American nightmare" -- uninsured and facing thousands of dollars in medical bills.
The good news is that the cancer is very treatable. The doctors caught it early (stage 2, if memory serves), and chemotherapy combined with what I'm told is a very unpleasant surgery is probably going to lick the problem within a year. The bad news is that the debt is going to be staggering, and the treatment is currently kneecapping the energy and concentration he needs to write.
Living expenses are, to put it mildly, a serious problem for him at the moment.
Some friends of his are throwing a fundraiser at Cinema 21 on April 27. This Web page has all the details. You should go, participate, or at least drop the man a spot of cash if you've enjoyed his work.
Much praise of my slightly mad colleague after the jump. It will completely mortify him, I'm sure.
On the Friday, April 11 "Cort and Fatboy" broadcast, I get wound up about the hammy slice of ham salad with extra ham that is Forest Whitaker in "Street Kings."
Also discussed: An impending fundraiser for my cancer-stricken friend D.K. Holm, and the impending Portland screening of a shot-for-shot remake of "Raiders of the Lost Ark."
Cort and Fatboy (Friday, April 11, 2008) [ iTunes ]
