Here’s the video of the hit song Let It Go, from Disney’s Frozen, which has now grossed
almost one billion dollars. Idina Menzel provides the voice of
Elsa, the princess who’s tormented by her ability to create a CGI winter palace.
I find this song both thrilling and disturbing,
especially towards the end, when Elsa’s gown morphs
into something skin-tight and sparkling, and she
swivels towards the camera like an unholy combination
of Barbie, a brilliant drag queen and a Vegas showgirl:
Here is actress, model, Bond girl and Playboy centerfold Denise Richards.
In her Bond movie Denise played physicist Christmas Jones.
Denise is currently appearing on ABC’s Twisted,
as the anguished mother of a teen suspected
of murder:
I think that Denise looks like a Disney princess
after a few bad marriages, maybe a little too much
botox and way too much spray tan. I like Denise, because she
was married to and divorced from Charlie Sheen, and then
she volunteered to raise Charlie’s kids from a later
marriage, after those kids’ mother went into rehab. Denise
has appeared on Dancing With The Stars, in a Madea movie
and on her own reality show. Denise
knows things that a Disney princess could never dream of.
It’s been reported that Mark Zuckerberg and Facebook have just paid 16 billion dollars for WhatsApp, a mobile messaging service. Here are some other things Mark could do with 16 billion dollars:
1. He could buy St. Petersburg, Florida and re-name the town
St. Zuckersburg.
2. He could market an online game called Angry Zuckerbirds.
3. He could pay everyone in the world one dollar to say, “No, Mark, I like you for you.”
4. He could give the money to his wife with no strings attached, and then he could leave the toilet seat up, just to see if she’d say, “I can’t live like this!” and dump him.
5. He could get a better haircut.
6. He could rent a space shuttle, fly to the moon and sit there for a few hours, scarfing Lucky Charms and watching porn, without his Mom knocking on the door and asking him what he was doing.
7. He could give Bono all the money to build schools in Afghanistan, on the condition that Bono write an arena anthem called “In The Name Of Mark.”
8. To counteract the effect of The Social Network, he could produce a movie about his life, starring Justin Bieber as the young Mark Zuckerberg, who could’ve been a pop star but instead decided to help humanity by allowing people everywhere to post photos of themselves hugging their BFFs in Cancun.
I adored the playwright Wendy Wasserstein for many reasons, one of which was that we shared an overwhelming love of chocolate. Wendy once announced her engagement to a four-foot tall chocolate bunny in the window of Lilac chocolate, which was then located on Christopher Street.
Wendy and I were once both in a very bad mood about something or other, so to cheer ourselves up we went to a favorite candy store located in the Citicorp building on Lexington Avenue. We bought huge brown paper bags filled with chocolate-covered raisins and other treats, and we wandered through the building’s atrium. A local acting troupe was performing excerpts from Shakespeare on a platform in the atrium. Wendy and I were making so much noise with our chatter and our brown paper bags that a security guard asked us to leave.
Before the rise of the cupcake shop, Manhattan was filled with chocolate chip cookie stores. The most renowned chain was called David’s, and David’s cookies were large, delicious and filled with still warm, melted chocolate chunks. Wendy had gone to college with the woman who was married to David. Using this connection, Wendy and I had dinner at the restaurant which David owned on Third Avenue. Our dinner consisted of a cake which David had generously baked for us, made entirely out of layers and layers of chocolate chip cookies.
There was a branch of David’s Cookies right across the street from my apartment, which was also on Christopher Street. I went to this store pretty much every day, but sadly, almost no one else did. I was there so often that the staff asked me why I thought the store wasn’t more successful. I told them that I was doing my best.
Wendy died far too young, at 55, after an especially terrible illness. I’d like to think that wherever she is now, there are bunnies and cookies and no need for dieting.
This is the video of actress Ellen Page coming out at a recent Human Rights Campaign event.
It’s a wonderful speech, and it’s got me thinking about the whole
idea of coming out.
1. I’ve always found it unfair that only gay people are expected
to come out, as if they’re
required to make a public confession.
Straight people never have to come out as straight; their
straightness is assumed. I think that from now on every
straight person should be legally commanded to stand up in
front of their friends and family and say, “I should’ve
told all of you this a long time ago, but I’m straight. Whew.
Please don’t hate me.”
2. In movies, books and plays, a character’s coming out is often an agonizing experience.
And yes, in real life, when a gay person comes out,
they can sometimes be shunned or assaulted or worse.
The current situation in Nigeria and Uganda defies belief.
But I hate always associating a person’s coming out with
anxiety and tragedy.
That’s why I wrote the movie In&Out as a comedy.
I wanted it to be gay-positive, life-affirming and romantic.
I wanted to use coming out as an increasingly common
social ritual, like a first date or a wedding.It’s a celebration.
3. As so many activists have noted, the more gay people who come out,
the better. This normalizes gay lives.That’s why it’s helpful
when celebrities come out; I’ve always felt that true equality
requires not just gay Nobel prizewinners, but also gay reality
stars, gay supermodels and gay penguins.
4. Of course, some gay people are never satisfied.
Whenever a gay celebrity comes out, they insist that
the ultimate test will be an openly gay male action hero.
5. Whenever a particularly good-looking male star arrives
on the scene, two groups will immediately announce that
he’s gay, especially online. These groups are gay men
and straight men. The gay men somehow imagine that even
if Hugh Jackman was gay, they’d have a chance with him.
The straight men get nervous around good-looking,
well-built men: they don’t like the competition.
Here’s a scene from In&Out on this topic,
featuring the sublime Joan Cusack,
who was nominated for an Oscar:
4. Any sentence which begins with a group identification, as in:
“As a woman…”
“Speaking as a gay man…”
“As a transgendered Asian-American…”
“As a registered Republican…”
“As a tenured faculty member…”
The subtext of such introductions is always, “And you’re not.”
5. If it’s not too much trouble…
6. I know I have no right to ask this, but…
7. I’m listening and I hear what you’re saying but…
8. Maybe because I’m younger than you…
9. Maybe because I’m older than you…
10. But if I were you…
11. Right now I just need you to be quiet and listen because…
12. Hi, I’m calling on behalf of…
13. Speaking as your mother, in case you’ve forgotten that you have one…
14. Excuse me, but this will only take a second…
15. I agree with everything you’ve just said, but…
16. I think we’re all on the same page here, but…
17. I know I keep talking about myself and I promise I’ll stop, but…
18. I can’t remember, but have I ever told you the story about…
After you’ve heard almost any of these openings, you will most likely stop listening, but you should remember to keep looking at whoever is speaking, and nod occasionally.
As the recent hit film Frozen has shown us, snowpeople lead desperate inner lives. The snowfolk below are roadside sexworkers. They hate it when customers make jokes about snowjobs or getting plowed.
This next snowperson is feeling a certain bittersweet joy, because while he’s about to publish his first collection of short stories, he’s worried that this jacket photo makes him look fat:
You may want to look away from this next explicit image, which is a news photo of a snowperson love triangle gone terribly wrong. The depression at the center was just starting college:
His Mom was a snowperson, but his Dad was a jack o’lantern. This is the last time he was seen upright:
Facebook has just released over fifty different options for referring to a person’s gender. But where is the designation for “Someone whose genitals have melted”?
My family took Valentine’s Day seriously. When my brother and I would wake up on February 14th, sometimes my parents would have covered our pillows with those little candy Be Mine hearts. My Mom would bake a cake in a heart-shaped pan, and I would be sent to school with valentines for my teacher and my entire class, which would be stuffed into a decorated shoebox on the teacher’s desk.
But there was a great Valentine’s Day mystery at our house. My parents were very much in love, and every year my Dad would give my Mom several valentines, in envelopes marked SBKR. Back then, all I knew was that my Mom’s name was Selma Klahr Rudnick (Klahr was her maiden name.) Whenever I asked either my Mom or my Dad what the B stood for, they refused to tell me. It was clearly part of their secret language.
I only found out, many years later, that my mother’s middle name
was Blossom. To her dying day, she still refused to talk about it, but I got the impression that she thought Blossom was either a silly or a frilly name, and definitely not her style. So my Dad was the only person who was allowed to call her Blossom or at least to use the initial.
My Dad’s first name also held a secret. I grew up thinking that he was Norman Rudnick, but I found out, again years later, that his mother had in fact named him after her favorite silent movie star, Mabel Normand, and that his legal first name was Normand. Which, like my Mom, he thought sounded too exotic or too French and just not him. Mabel Normand had been the great love of the silent film pioneer Mack Sennett, who created the Keystone Kops, and she was also at the center of the notorious William Desmond Taylor love triangle/murder. She became addicted to cocaine and died at 37, of tuberculosis.
While my parents were Selma and Norman, on Valentine’s Day I think of them as Blossom and Normand.
My own partner, John, has continued this romantic tradition, because he has a tattoo on his shoulder, of a heart with a dagger through it, and my name. We’ve joked that he can always change the tattoo to read I HATE PAUL or RAUL, but I still think it’s the most wonderfully romantic thing anyone’s ever done, especially for me.
And yes, I’m way too chicken to get a JOHN tattoo. But there are photos of me, watching in agony as John happily gets his tattoo. He’s amazingly impervious to pain, but just watching him getting tattooed almost killed me. When I told my mother about John’s tattoo, she thought about it and then decided that she approved because, as my Aunt Lil had remarked,”You can take a ring off.”
Since today yet another snowstorm is blanketing the East Coast, here are some sunny pick-me-ups:
1. Earlier this week in Iraq, as an instructor at a terrorist training school was showing his students how to wear a suicide vest, he accidentally blew himself up, along with at least 22 other potential bombers. When the New York Times interviewed various Iraqi citizens about this event, many of them couldn’t stop laughing.
2. When I saw this photo of KD Lang and Tony Bennett embracing, at first I thought they were a long-time gay couple getting married.
I was wrong, but I still think they’re both wonderful.
3. It’s been entertaining to watch the turmoil surrounding that contestant on The Biggest Loser whom many people feel lost too much weight. Do these people watch The Bachelor and worry that some of the winning couples might not really be in love?
4. Last week I had a piece in The New Yorker, which celebrated the particular lunacy called New Jersey. Some folks felt I went too far. But this week the Mayor of Trenton was convicted of bribery, fraud and extortion. Since 2000, the mayors of Asbury Park, Camden, Hamilton, Hoboken, Newark, Orange, Passaic, Patterson and Perth Amboy, among others, have also been convicted of various crimes. Come on, Ho-ho-kus, Metuchen and Teaneck, catch up!
5. It must be challenging to grow up in Mianus, Connecticut.
6. Soleil Moon Frye, once the star of Punky Brewster, has named her new baby Lyric Sonny Roads Goldberg. He joins his siblings Jagger Joseph Blue and Poet Sienna Rose.
7. On long car trips, children sometimes count cows or out-of-state license plates. In Manhattan, I like to count men wearing peacoats with the collars turned up. If they’re also wearing turtleneck sweaters, chances are that they’re fantasizing about being either A) Daniel Craig, B) Billy Bigelow in a production of Carousel, or C) a rugged guy in an Old Spice commercial, wearing a knitted cap as he strides along a wharf.
8. You know that it’s “a significant weather event” when Channel 2’s intrepid weather stud, Lonnie Quinn, takes off his jacket and does the weather report with his shirtsleeves rolled up. Sometimes he even reports from his Mobile Weather Lab, which seems to be a mini-van with a flat-screen TV in the back. Lonnie used to be an actor on a soap. I think he’s waiting for President Obama to call him on the air, and ask, “So Lonnie, tell me about this icy rain.”
Shirley Temple’s death was announced yesterday, and in the video above she sings
“Animal Crackers”, which is a much more bizarre song
than I remembered, with references to “swallowing animals”
and a janitor named Mr. Klein.
Shirley is undeniably appealing and she’s refreshingly
chubby and upbeat, when compared to the haughty mini-sirens
on the Disney Channel.There’s also something oddly middle-aged
about her; she’s like a good-natured, hardworking housekeeper
who can’t wait to get home, put her feet up and maybe enjoy a
solitary slice of cheesecake with her bourbon.
Unlike many of today’s child performers, Shirley doesn’t
seem neurotic or fragile. While she’s enjoying herself,
she’s doing a job, entertaining us. I can see why she
eventually left show business, because even as a toddler
she seems too sane. She lacks the Norma Desmond desperation
of the child stars who’ll try anything to remain in the spotlight.
I’ve worked with several child actors and they tend to be
either tiny, tireless show biz machines, who mimic adult
behavior, or genuine actors. I was surprised to find that
in both cases, an acting career
had almost always been entirely the child’s idea. I’ve
rarely dealt with a ferocious stage parent, who’s shoved his
or her child in front of the cameras. Most often, the
children had seen other kids on TV, and begged their
parents to let them begin auditioning.
Christina Ricci was ten years old when she first appeared
as Wednesday in the Addams Family movies, and she was
sensational. She was a real actor, who worked from instinct,
and she mastered the necessary comic deadpan. If you click on
the bio page of this blog, you’ll find a photo taken on
the set, where Christina is styling my hair. She
was a delight, which is why the second film,
Addams Family Values, includes a major
Wednesday storyline.
The first Addams film, which I rewrote, included several
flashbacks, to Gomez and Fester as children and as teenagers.
I watched the auditions for the children involved.
It was especially disturbing to see all of the kids who
resembled the large, round, bald Uncle Fester, but on the
other hand, this might have been the one opportunity where
looking like a 9-year-old Fester had become a plus.
There was one little boy who was a little too authentically
Fester-like. He was too scary to cast in the movie, and the
crew referred to him as “the drooler.”
Shirley Temple managed to endure as an American icon
without either dying young or becoming a perpetual
rehab case. Like Garbo, she preserved her image by retiring
from films, in Shirley’s case, at age 22. Unlike Garbo,
she didn’t become a recluse but moved into politics, where
she served as the US ambassador to both Ghana and Czechoslovakia.
When she developed breast cancer, in 1972, she was one of the first
celebrities to discuss her disease openly.
Shirley continued acting on TV, but that’s not how she’s
remembered. It’s the ebullient, tap-dancing Shirley,
in her sausage curls and polka dots, who’s the equal
of Elvis and James Dean and Marilyn. She’s the adorable,
terrifying Great American Child.
While thanks to the hideously discriminatory practices of the Russian government, the Sochi Olympics feel sour and blighted, here’s a look on the brighter side, by which I mean the outfits. This first look feels as if it’s a gay rights protest, but I suspect it’s not:
Here are some of those All-American Ralph Lauren cardigans, which seem like a strange drug reaction:
I didn’t know that the Osmond Brothers were competing:
These Russian guys look like they’re representing a beauty salon bowling league from Queens:
I think it’s called Apres-ski in Aspen, where these coats would be accessorized with oversize sunglasses, shopping bags, cocaine and a private jet:
I believe this is from an earlier Olympics, when the games were less fraught. Or these might be marionettes:
