PapaSee: Bello Mania with Bello Nock!

this fat ass is funny, ya'll. for real.

I took MONSTA to see this and had a really great time. Both of us. And don't worry: Bello is nothing like the creepy, lives in a windowless van-type clown we're all afraid of. Check it out if you're in New York. 

Read my review of Bello Mania on NyTheatre.com. 

Hugo Chavez: 1954 - 2013

I think we can all agree it's going to be a very tough week for Sean Penn and the Castro brothers. You're in our thoughts. Really.

Help Me Watch Girls, Or Don't.

Look you guys. It's a garage sale, but I'm calling it a "boutique."

I want to know: are you watching Girls? Because if you're a reader of my blog, then I imagine that we're similar. And if you're watching Girls, then maybe I can learn to watch it too. 

For now though, I don't. And it isn't just because I don't have HBO. I did have HBO when the show started, and I didn't watch it then either. I say "didn't," but the reality is that I couldn't. Something, or someone - a little hater buried somewhere between my liver and kidneys (are they in the same area?) - refused me that freedom. And try as I might to change his feelings, I just couldn't tune in. 

It's odd. Everything about it I should be into. The lead is a hard-working, creative woman who wrote, shot, and promoted a small film (Tiny Furniture) that got her this show. I totally respect that ethic. Also, I live in New York, and always enjoy movies shot on locations I recognize. And the music is mostly stuff that I listen to. So I should be a fan, right? 

But even with so much in the good column, the "hell no not now not ever" column is even taller. First off, I can't stand the flighty, disconnected hipster world view that's so ingrained on Girls. It drives me crazy in real life, so why do I need it on TV, too? There's also the fact that most of the leads are related to famous people. Alright, being the daughter of the drummer from Bad Company is pushing "famous," but you get the idea. Were they right for the role? Maybe. If my parents were "in the biz," would I hate them forever for making me start out scratching and clawing for an Empire Carpet commercial? Fo...sho. But none of that makes it any easier for me to watch the cast of Girls without a strong sense of disgust at the obvious nepotism. (It's also why I hate watching the oldest daughter - another Mamet - on The Neighbors. That, and she's a pretty one-note crap actor.) Also, no black people. Really?! In Brooklyn? 

Here's why I'm asking. Game of Thrones, along with that naked dragon lady, is returning, which means WIFE will demand we get HBO again. With that comes full access to all episodes of Girls, which part of me really wants to get into. I need to know how I can push through and watch it. Or if I even should. 

Thoughts?  

Scarlett Johansson's Amazing Pipes

I'm the first to admit that watching the Oscars with me is no fun. This year was better, but not by much. Why? Because I have standards, damnit! Also, I was born spouting an opinion. ("Could you tug me a little harder next time, doc? Geez") So I complain, and I moan, and I bitch - loudly - about how the craft of acting  in my country is a joke and empty and practiced mostly with little to no training (at least in film). 

Call me a hater, but I'm right.

One of my common targets has been Scarlett Johansson. I first saw her in Ghost World, and while I loved the movie and kind of liked her, I always felt that Thora Birch was way better. But she doesn't look like Scarlett (and apparently has a cray cray daddy), so Team Hollywood chose the other one. And of course, Scarlett does have that "something," and was pretty good in Lost in Translation. And sure, if she asked me to dinner or coffee or wanted me to join her in Fiji for a month, I'd probably go. The actor in me, though, has never felt her work lived up to the hype, especially when asked to play a role that isn't so sexpotty. 

Cut to the Oscars. They're playing the nominees for Best Original Song, and I hear this magical, sultry, totally emotional voice come on the tv. It's playing over striking images of glaciers and other cold stuff, and I'm moved. Like, totally moved. Voices always get me. And just like the first time I heard Robert Flack, or Johnny Cash, or Jerry Garcia towards the end of his run, I found myself getting really churned up by this voice. So I go to Google and...

Can you guess who's it was? Ding. Scarlett Johansson. I was shocked then, and still am. But Papa Matt is happily eating a big ol' mess of crow, cause the girl can sing. Listen for yourself.