America Held Hostage: Hour 3

Make him stop shouting. For the love of God and the spirit of Johnny Carson looking down and wincing, make Chris Rock stop freakin’ SHOUTING. Will someone please tell this guy that if your material sucks, then kicking it into high decibels doesn’t make it better; it just makes it louder.

An occasional amusing line is tossed in here and there, but most of what he says is achingly unfunny. During his man-in-the-street interview sequence, the twenty second appearance of Albert Brooks made it clear that Brooks is infinitely more qualified to host than Rock. Jesus, Edna Mode is more qualified to host.

It is painful to see time-saving bits like lining up all the nominees or bringing the Oscars to people’s seats, like pizza delivery, with a caste system that says some people belong on stage and others don’t, and then watch the show hemorrhage time with Rock’s routines and other lugubrious presentations.

Not to go all Comic Book Guy, but this is going to go down in history as one of the worst Oscar broadcasts ever.

PAD

Attending the PBA today

Peter will be at the PBA Cambridge Credit Classic today which will air on ESPN at 12:30 (Sunday Feb. 27, 2005). If you watch the broadcast, he is wearing a shirt with the Fantastic Four emblem on his chest and a blue bowling shirt. Ariel will be sitting next to him in a simular bowling shirt. We’re cheering for Chris Barnes who is a really nice guy.

COWBOY PETE–CLIMBING BACK INTO THE SADDLE: SMALLVILLE & WEST WING TO START OUT

It’s been a while since I put on the spurs. I missed a couple of episodes, got behind, didn’t even know where to start to catch up, and then just kind of backburnered it. But let’s start climbing back in while we’ve still got some season left of stuff, shall we?

Spoilers:

‘Tis a Silly Place

Just came back from seeing “Spamalot” in previews. What a wonderfully loopy time THAT was.

Although obviously beholden to “Holy Grail,” only a few sequences are basically word for word. The rest wanders astray into side sequences and songs–some relevant, some spectacularly not–that both send up Broadway cliches while simultaneously adhering to them.

Tim Curry looks like he’s having entirely too much fun, Hank Azaria is hilarious as Lancelot (never realized how much he looks like John Cleese; it’s the chin, I guess), and David Hyde-Pierce not only out-does Idle’s Sir Robin, but he’s easily got the best song in the show: A second act show stopper about how, if you’re going to succeed on Broadway, you need Jews in your show (it’s a nice companion piece to “The Producer’s” song about gays…not that gays go untrounced in “Spamalot.”)

Bottom line, it’s a shamelessly mercenary endeavor exploiting the Python legacy, and no one, including myself, had the slightest problem with that.

We hung out afterwards and the three leads came out and signed autographs. I got them to sign the interior of my giant killer rabbit’s mouth. Curry hesitated slightly and, divining his suspicions, I said, “I swear to you, I won’t close the mouth on your hand.” He trusted me and I restrained myself (which is nice since usually people have to be called in to apply restraints on me.)

PAD