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movies

Vampire In Brass Plum

by anna on 11.04.2009

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So I was tooling around the West side yesterday, just trying to kill some time while my geriatric cat was having tests done, and at some point I found myself on the third floor of Nordstrom. After a pointless perusal of TBD, I took a right at Individualist and was just about to board the down escalator and check out the cosmetics department when HOLY FUCKING HELL was that a vampire I just saw in Brass Plum?

Hey, he looks just like that kid who played Cedric Diggory in the fourth Harry Potter.

Hey, he looks just like that kid who played Cedric Diggory in the fourth Harry Potter.

Now granted, the lighting isn’t all that great at the WSP Nordstrom, but it still seemed pretty bright for a vampire to just be walking around like that. And there was definitely some early afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows at the edges of the store, but dude was NOT sparkling for shit. Not at ALL. He was just standing there. Big let down.

Of course, then I realized that there wasn’t just a vampire there. There was also a really stupid-looking werewolf.

But, you're right, you don't really want your dogs to be SMART. You want them to be obedient.

But, you're right, you don't really want your dogs to be SMART. You want them to be obedient.

I mean, there are some smart dogs, but it’s not like the species as a whole is known for being intelligent. Still, I feel like this looks like a really stupid breed of dog. I could be wrong. I didn’t talk to him or ask him to fetch anything. Also, sometimes you don’t want a smart dog, right? You want your dog to be obedient, and friendly. That’s why golden retrievers are more popular than poodles. Also, the fact that golden retrievers are way cuter. What was I talking about?

Oh yeah. So all this talk of vampires and werewolves, and I started wondering what I would look like, if I were Bella, tragically torn between two supernatural beings that wanted to devour me. I’m not sure, but I think I’d probably wear a lot of flannel, and be like 40-50 pounds lighter than I am right now, and bite my lip a lot. I can almost picture it.

High-heeled feet are super flattering.

High-heeled feet are super flattering.

I’m going to have to work on the lip-biting emo stuff. But I’ll get there.

Maybe motherhood has made me soft. Maybe I’m just getting old, I don’t know. But I think it’s time to quit with the Joaquin Phoenix parodies, people. I’m not sure how to articulate why I think this is important: I just have a bad feeling about the whole situation. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love a good parody. But there’s something about parodying this behavior, from this person, right now, that I’m concerned is going to lead to some kind of unspeakable tragedy in the near future if we don’t cut it out pronto.

If you didn’t catch Joaquin Phoenix’s appearance on Letterman last week, you can watch it here:

It has been suggested by credible sources that Phoenix’s “retirement” from acting and the subsequent bizarre media appearances are part of some kind of “project” in the works (possibly a mockumentary in the vein of This Is Spinal Tap) by Phoenix and his friend, Casey Affleck. Far be it from me to step on the toes of the entertainment writing industrial complex, but I am having a hard time finding the “anonymous tips” from “sources close to the actor” cited by these writers to be credible.

Here’s why. I’m not buying Joaquin Phoenix as a comedian. For starters, the dude cannot take a joke.

Am I the only one who remembers the Oscars from a few years back, the year after Jaime Foxx had won Best Actor for Ray, when Joaquin Phoenix had been nominated for Best Actor in Walk the Line. And Jon Stewart was hosting, and he made a joke that Walk the Line was Ray for white people. (Which? by the way–funny.) But when they panned to Joaquin Phoenix’s face in the wake of the joke, he looked crushed. I mean seriously crushed. He couldn’t hide it. It was just a joke, and not even directed at him specifically. I remember looking at him then and thinking something was wrong, and yeah, I’m not a psychiatrist, and yeah, this armchair diagnosis was done through a TV set, but whatever, I’m a human and I know disappointment when I see it.

Let’s not forget, either, that Joaquin is River Phoenix’s brother. Before he became Joaquin, he was known as “Leaf” Phoenix, and he’s the one who had to call 911 while his brother was dying in his arms. Listen people, that shit doesn’t wash away, even with a few Oscar nods. And Joaquin Phoenix has always demonstrated a sensitivity that is palpable, it is probably part of what makes him a good actor. But I don’t think it’s going to far to suggest that he might have a few demons that would scare the shit out of most of us. I think we should shoot for leaving those be for as long as possible.

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As an amateur comedian, I do find it hard to resist the low-hanging fruit, don’t get me wrong. But something about these repetitive parodies rubs me the wrong way. Now, if I think about why they occur, I think it is this: if you watched the original Letterman skit, it begs for some kind of explanation. It is very difficult to believe that somebody who valued their career–whether it is as an actor or as a “hip hop artist” (WTF?)–would go on Letterman and act like that. So I think when you see the parodies, these are not simply a desire to cash in on the whole utter WTF aura surrounding this thing for comedy, but also part of our collective effort to understand what the hell is going on. Is Joaquin Phoneix on drugs? Is he depressed? Is this some kind of Andy Kaufman renaissance?

The thing is, parodies are best when they are very very close but take it just a little too far–just a little beyond the believable, so that you are still able to distinguish the parody from the real thing. Take Tina Fey’s Sarah Palin–she was uncanny, and when she said that she could see “Russia from her house,” as an example of her foreign policy qualifications it was totally believable, even if Palin never actually said those precise words. She was just an inch away from being frightening, and that is why she was so funny.

Joaquin Phoenix is a different story. First we had Alec Baldwin mocking him on The Conan O’Brien show. Ben Stiller (at the Oscars) and Jason Sudeikis (from Saturday Night Live) are not so much parodying as they are straight-up reenacting Phoenix’s Letterman appearance. If Phoenix really were doing some kind of weird Andy Kaufman thing, then Stiller and Sudeikis are straight-up stealing his act, since they don’t really add anything new. And if Phoenix is being sincere, well, then Stiller and Sudeikis are essentially making fun of somebody in the middle of a nervous breakdown. And that kind of sits badly with me. Like kicking puppies.

This is not the only time I’ve seen this kind of boyish desperation during one of Phoenix’s interviews. I’m not even a big fan of his, but I always remember him in interviews because he seems so fragile. Now, maybe it will turn out that I’m wrong, and that this whole thing has been a publicity stunt from the beginning, and to be honest, I hope that is what’s going on. But what I see is a fragile human, possibly struggling with depression and/or drug abuse, forced to go on a national TV show in order to meet the terms of his movie publicity contract. And the dude may be successful and famous, and therefore we may all feel like, “Oh boo fricken hoo” about him, but I’m telling you something’s not right. Something bad is going to happen. So LAY OFF.

Hooray for Hollywoodland

by anna on 09.25.2008

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It’s premiere week in Hollywoodland, can you feel the magic?
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Do you know what Hollywoodland is? I mean, other than that movie with Adrien Brody and Ben Affleck, that is? Hollywoodland was the name given in the 1920s by a real estate developer to the area now known as Beachwood Canyon. The Hollywoodland sign was originally erected as a means of promoting the real estate development in a big studio picture kind of way. Since the sign was visible throughout the city–although it wasn’t much of a city back then–it cultivated interest in the growing LA population as to what was going on up there. Even if it only made people wonder what the heck kind of newfangled community it must be, to have a sign built for it straight out of the side of a mountain?
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The original Hollywoodland real estate developers went bust in the Great Depression. And after years of neglect and fire, the “land” portion of the sign fell off, along with some of the other letters. Pranksters with too much time on their hands would go up there and move the letters (and pieces of letters) around to make it spell “Ollywood.” Or “Holywood.” Or “Hollyweed.” Finally, a bunch of people–including Hugh Hefner–got together and decided to make the sign a historical landmark for Hollywood itself. They started a foundation in charge of the maintenance and historical preservation of the sign, and since then it has remained in pristine condition, even when the rest of LA is shot to hell.
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Now, people come from around the world to see the sign. They drive up my old street in rental cars, and stand in the middle of the street, racing to get a picture of themselves in front of it–if only from afar–before the next car speeds up or down Beachwood Canyon. Sometimes when I was out walking Sidney, they would ask me how to get up by the letters, like they did in that old episode of 90210, after the gang’s graduation from West Beverly. And I would tell them that I don’t know. But that from what I understood, it involves going through Griffith Park, and you can’t get there from here.
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And so, if you’re following at home, you can see that history in Los Angeles tends to be constructed in the following way:
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This process is true for everything. Stars, writers, directors, studios, signs, buildings, neighborhoods, genres. Well, not so much producers. Producers have a way of floating above this cycle. But you know, everyone else. When I lived in Hollywood and premiere week would roll around, I used to feel like I was a part of it myself. Even though I was about as far away from being a part of it as would be possible. But it pulled me in, and it makes believe these larger-than-life signs still have a magical power over people.
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Most big cities have their own way to handle grand-scale advertising. New York has Times Square, with giant billboards advertising Broadway shows, fashion brands, mass market products, and electronics giants. Leicester Square in London is similar. I have never been to Tokyo, but from what I can discern based on the movie Lost in Translation, their advertising is much like Times Square’s except for the persistent use of A-List American celebrities in ads for products ranging from automobiles to whisky.
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Los Angeles is no different in its need to advertise mass products to a mass audience. But here we have a movieland magic to the practice of advertising that makes you feel–even if just for the few minutes[singlepic=205,560,440,,right] (or hours, depending upon the time of day) that you spend winding down Highland and through the heart of Hollywood proper–like you are part of that magic. That you are big. And important And have somewhere to be. So give me my advertising straight up, on the side of the road. And no twist.
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Hollywood proper used to be a shithole. Many parts of it still are. But they are definitely taking stabs at gentrification, with the Hollywood and Highland project that was finished many years ago, and the soon-to-be completed W Hotel. Hollywood Proper is home to most of the clubs at which you can catch celebutantes working their magic–even when you read of a club with a new name, it is usually an old club with updated decor and a new name. What was Concorde four years ago is now Shag, and Club LAX, once it loses its coolness, will be turned into something else very close to the original, but somehow different. Whatever it becomes will be repackaged, dropped into dialogue on Entourage, claiming it (and constructing it, at the same time) as the Place to Be. For a while.
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Even things from so far away take on a different sheen in Hollywood. In spite of yourself, you must look at them differently. Are they a little more polished? But a lot less innocent. Perhaps they are richer, but they also seem sadder. And they are definitely more glamorous.
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Maybe it’s the proximity of major landmarks, made far more famous by The Industry than they ever would be otherwise. Maybe there is pixie dust in the masonry of buildings like Capitol Records. Maybe someday you’ll walk into that building like the Beatles did way back when. Maybe one day you’ll be a star! Lots gets written about Hollywood, but most of it just talks about how bad it is for the rest of the world. How unrealistic it sets our expectations. Maybe that’s true.
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But maybe there is something to it. Maybe there is something magical in a dream.

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